The Dreamer Stones (34 page)

Tristan rose,
his face pale, and followed his mother back to the Valla house.

The instant he
judged them out of range, Torrullin ground out, “What happened to
my grandson?”

Silence.

Caballa could
not say the words.

Kismet lost
what little courage caused him to move earlier.

Quilla rose.
He was grim, quite unlike himself. He stared at Torrullin and
rather than attempt the limitations that went with words, imparted
the news in the most effective manner available to sorcerers. He
watched Torrullin’s already pale face turn ashen with shock.

Moments later
he sat and lifted his goblet, tossing the wine therein back in one
gulp. Quite unlike Quilla.

“You. Placed.
Your. Vallorin. In. The. Gauntlet?” Torrullin said, his words
dangerously punctuated. “
How dare you
?” he cried out,
rising, sending his chair crashing back. Caballa flinched. “
Who
gave you that power over my grandson
?”

Kismet tried.
“My Lord, it …”

“Kismet.
Caballa.” He glared at them. “
Remove yourselves from my sight
this instant or I shall kill you
!” His voice carried into every
corner of Grinwallin’s little spaces.

Deathly pale,
Caballa and Kismet dematerialised.

The
Enchanter’s eyes were midnight black.

“Torrullin!”
Saska cried and jumped up.

He turned on
her. “Someone
must pay
!”

“
No
!”
she screamed when he pushed her aside to stride away. In the
background, amid agitated noise, a babble of voices, she heard
Teighlar round on Quilla.

“Tactless,
birdman!”

“I’ve never
lied to him, Senlu!”

Saska hastened
after Torrullin and saw Lowen boldly step into his path.

“Get away,
Lowen!” Torrullin snapped out.

“No.” She was
calm. Everyone else was crazy and she was calm. “I’ve seen the
results of Destroyer. You will not do this.” She folded her arms
and blocked his path.

He halted.
“This time I am with him. Get out of my way.”

“If someone
must pay,” Lowen said, “let it be your Warlock son. Do you seek to
burden yourself already? Is it fair to those counting on you? Is it
fair to yourself?
Did you learn so little? Elixir?
”

Deadly
silence.

Would he push
her away? Vanish? Worse?

Torrullin’s
hands came up trembling to thread his hair. “They should have
waited.” Hands stilled on his head and a thoughtful expression came
into his eyes. “Payment later then. Right now I must go after
him.”

“Do not go
after the dead they said, remember?” Lowen whispered. “Advice
offered for your sanity.”

Saska reached
out and turned him to face her. His eyes were grey. She glanced at
Lowen, who continued to hold Torrullin’s face in her regard.

Torrullin
looked away from his wife … back to Lowen.

“This is why I
need you,” he said.

Saska
shivered.

“I see that,”
Lowen said. “I say yes, but reserve the right to change my mind
later.”

“Agreed.” A
moment longer he held her gaze and then turned to Saska. “We need
to talk. Now.”

Quilla was the
only one who did not stare at Lowen in wonder as she returned to
the table. She was an extraordinary child - she was an
extraordinary woman.

His gaze
followed Torrullin and Saska heading down the stairs instead. He
knew he was Elixir. He knew about his cabinet, then. He had to know
Declan and Belun were the first recruits.

Lowen just
became the third. He knew then about the fate that awaited the
Q’lin’la.

The way ahead
was terrible.

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

Sanctuary, A
sanctuary is a sacred place, whether of religion or from a personal
ideal, but it is also a place of safety for fugitives,
dispossessed, abused and hopeless souls. It is both first and last
resort and is a state of mind, as well as a place to lay a weary
head.

Dictionary,
Titania Edition

Grinwallin was
busy on this autumn day.

“Forest.”
Torrullin strode to the little postern gate in the northern wall.
Saska followed more slowly.

Torrullin
slowed as he went down the leaf-strewn path and started to talk. He
told her about Lowen, Krikian and Cèlaver. He told her about the
rings and the portal and then, haltingly at first, told her about
his dream realm and the cleansing.

The latter was
without detail and without real description of his feelings, but
she read between the lines, understanding how difficult it was. She
also comprehended the gift, despite the difficulty. She was
relieved for him and wished she could find a way to heave out guilt
and anger, even if it meant losing all innocence. The loss of
innocence, she further understood, was not a literal losing, but a
knowing of oneself. Innocence, in its true form, could never be
expunged.

He did not
tell her of Lowen’s image; every time he thought of Lowen now, the
coldness invaded his soul.

Next was the
temple on the hill, the Abyss, and what lay in the darkness below.
Here, too, detail was scratchy, but he explained enough about
Tymall, Digilan and his own status so she saw where his choice
lay.

She understood
about the Vallas, the Medaillon, and saw also there was a sacrifice
in the offing. She wondered if he realised it. In giving the Vallas
over to safety in the care of the Medaillon and the Syllvan, he had
no bulwark himself.

Either he
would lose his Valla blood, by force or deliberately to fool
Tymall, or he would enter Digilan and take Tymall back as living
proof the Warlock had failed. She wondered if he understood more
than one choice lay before him.

She understood
about Lowen.

The leaves
underfoot were dark and moist, with the unique odour of the forest.
Among the evergreen trees, there were amber, russet and gold.
Already there was a bite to Luvanor’s air.

She recalled
how ominous this forest appeared the first time they came, before
Grinwallin arose anew. Now it was friendly, and yet she thought it
could turn on an invasive presence. Its friendliness was a mask -
well, maybe she was fanciful.

Saska reached
out, put her arms about her husband and held him. After a moment he
responded, drawing her close to bury his face in her hair. He
sighed deeply, a sigh that said; thank you, yes, now I am home. She
had to believe that or go insane.

He kissed her
gently before putting her away from him, asking her to tell him
about Vania and Tannil. She did, and he expressionlessly added what
Quilla sent regarding the Throne and the gauntlet the Elders
subjected Tannil to, ultimately causing his death.

She was
horrified and understood the swift rise of Destroyer. No doubt she
would want to kill someone too - in fact, she could cheerfully
murder Caballa and Kismet herself.

To distract
him she proceeded with news of Valaris, of the darkling defeat, the
death of Valaris’s leaders, Marcus’ paralysis, and then the better
news, the recovery of land and water, steady growth of crops and
importation of livestock paid out of the Valleur treasury. She
explained the Valleur were regarded as rulers of Valaris, Margus
had behaved, and told him she left Luvanor briefly to lead Valleur
and supplies to Valaris. She had not placed herself in danger, she
added, and had meanwhile regained lost fitness.

He did not
comment.

The Pillars of
Fire was an afterthought, but caused him the most distress after
Tannil and Vania. He knew what Tymall symbolised with that
particular action.

Then she
paused.

“You have left
something out,” he murmured.

“Two things,
but one we shall discuss later with Samuel. The other concerns
Fay.”

She told him
of the wedding on Beacon and explained the confrontation between
Tannil and Tymall, ending with the fact Fay was now in
Grinwallin.

He was
thoughtful after. “Tymall saw Tannil just before he returned to
Valaris?”

Like to
Quilla, he then had real cause for his grandson’s insanity, aided
as it was by too much loss and tension. Perhaps he could have
reversed the effects, and perhaps not. In the past, for mind
healing, he used the Lifesource Temple, and Quilla did exactly
thus, and it had not helped. Perhaps there was no reversal possible
for Tannil, but he should be in care, not gauntleted. He would
never forgive.

Only he knew
the Throne accepted Tannil as Vallorin upon his demand - it
regarded
him
as true Vallorin. Had he been more forthcoming,
the Elders would have known not to test the Throne. Tannil would
now be alive. He could blame Tymall and the Elders, but he needed
to accept part of it.

His vessel
filled fast.

“Does Ty love
Fay enough to allow her to live?” he wondered next, aloud. “He
could expunge her Valla blood, for the precedent already exists.
She would, of course, lose it permanently. He married her, so there
is a bond, but is it enough to save her? And Fay? How is she?”

“Full of
remorse, hurting over Mitrill and Caltian, ranting against Ty for
not telling her. She appears depressed, but also seems to want to
make amends, start afresh. Tannil got her out in time, I
think.”

“Yet she seeks
no annulment? You don’t find that strange?”

“She has a
point about possible advantages.”

Torrullin was
noncommittal. “I’ll speak to her.” He turned on the path, ready to
begin the return journey. “Saska, about Lowen …”

“It’s all
right. I understand. If she is half the person she was as a child,
I get it. Lowen who can see into people with miraculous instinct.
Lowen who is the seer most sorcerers only ever dream of becoming.
Lowen the honest to the point of pain.”

“Yes, all
that, and yes, she frightens me with honesty, but know this … for I
do know you, my lady wife.” He smiled at her. “I’m not going to
stray and particularly not with Lowen. Gods, that’s almost
incestuous. I know she brings Cat into your thoughts, but speak to
her, and know yourself how swiftly Cat fades into the background.
Trust her, even if you have doubts over your husband.”

She wriggled
under his arm, pressing to his warmth as they slowly walked back to
the city. “I’m all right, don’t concern yourself.”

He pulled her
even closer. “Good.” A few paces further he said, “I love you,
Saska.”

He had to
believe that or he would go insane.

Under the
portico, the table was clear.

Relegating his
grief to the spaces behind his defences, Torrullin was calm as he
sat. Saska, appearing happier, sank into the chair next to him.

Samuel rose.
“We need Kismet and Caballa,” he said to Torrullin. “And you need
to recall them.”

“Your
confidence has grown. Something changed for you.”

“Yes, and they
are part of it. Well?”

“I shall send
for them in a moment. There is something I need say first.” A
pause. “Lowen has told you of Digilan, right?” Nods. “Have you seen
there is sacrifice in this path?”

Saska
sighed.

Quilla said,
“For Tymall to believe he is the last Valla, the boys must be safe
and you are able to do so. Fay will either not survive or her blood
will be nullified. Samuel will do what he must - succeed, lose or
go into similar hiding. And you, Enchanter, will either expunge the
Valla in you, or enter Digilan as proof of the Warlock’s failure.
Have I got it about right?”

Belun groaned
aloud. “Gods, not that again. Torrullin, why can’t you bloody stay
put?”

Torrullin gave
a wry smile. “The complicated dogs me, Belun, always.” He inclined
his head at the birdman. “About right, yes. Now let me say this, it
is not sacrifice, and it may not come to that. The road ahead is
too unclear to know what is required. However, just as I stood at
the edge of the Abyss, so does the way of life we know. Change
comes, do not doubt that.”

Teighlar gave
a satisfied smile. Had he not said change would mark the
Enchanter’s return?

Torrullin
ignored him and went on, “Small changes and profound ones, and we
shall not balk. The curve is great and when we are here once more,
we must know we would make the same choices. Even the wrong ones,
for there are no absolutes.”

Another pause
and then he stood.

“Lowen has
spoken of Elixir and while I am uncertain as to differences between
that and Enchanter, I am that. It is my great and profound change,
although I stumble in the dark. Elixir will have a cabinet. I call
it a Kaval, a system of government, if you will. The members of the
Kaval will accompany me into the future or, more correctly, along
the curve. Discussion of this will come later, but I now name the
first three members. They are answerable to no one but me.”

Torrullin
glanced left. “Belun, please stand.” The Centuar did so, his
humanoid face composed. “Belun, last Centuar, bonded himself to me
after the demise of the Guardians, and is now Kaval.” He shifted
his gaze. “Declan, please stand.” The Siric did so, his face
deadpan. “Declan, last Siric, did the same, and is Kaval. Both are
also treasured friends.”

He smiled,
indicating they should sit. This they did with bows in his
direction.

Torrullin
stared across the table. “Membership is achieved in two ways.
Either you are the last of your race, and an Immortal, or you are
the only immortal among your kind. Lowen, please stand.” She did
so, looking only at him. “Lowen is the singular immortal Xenian,
and is Kaval. Hers is a qualified membership, for she has reserved
the right to reverse her decision, which I accept. Thank you,
Lowen.” She sat and Torrullin took a deep breath and looked at
Quilla. “Old friend, I know you know what this means, and I am
truly sorry.”