The Dreamer Stones (98 page)

Tymall waited
for the day his son would come of age.

Saska, finding
her husband gone from Luvanor as well, hearing from Teighlar he
said he would never divorce her, went to Merrix. In anger, she
threw herself at Sinsen, stayed a while, and then left. In all that
she realised one thing, Torrullin loved her enough to keep their
marriage legal.

It would have
to be the driving force of her existence until they met again. She
went to Lily, the Lady of Life, and together they transformed
Nemisin’s long-dead, long-sterile world into a wondrous place
teeming with life. One day, she hoped, she would bring Torrullin
there.

Agnimus …
well, Agnimus hid well, and he was not done.

The Elders met
and agreed to leave the Valleur Throne in its cloaked state in the
Keep until Tianoman was of age.

The Maghdim
Medaillon, having returned with Curin and the boys, was placed
within the Keep to await the future Vallorin’s decision. It did not
remain that way; Torrullin sent for it.

Torrke
waited.

As did the
sentient Throne.

Many threads
still floated.

Who would
gather them together?

Epilogue

Torrullin
leaned on one elbow to look at her as she slept.

He could not
smile or grimace. Feelings had fled, other than appreciation of
beauty. She was striking, more so when she slept soundly.

In her, he saw
Cat, Catalina Dalrish who died a miserable death not knowing she
carried her salvation in her womb. In her, he saw Lycea, the
Changeling Averroes who bore him two sons and died a terrible
death, ostracized from her boys.

She, this
woman, could not die, thank the gods, but she would suffer as had
the others; he could not give enough of himself to take that away.
She was as unique as the others were, and still it did not
satisfy.

He loved Saska
most. And that, too, was now insufficient.

Why this?
Again?

Sighing, he
lay back and closed his eyes. He had damped them to a more normal
and acceptable grey. Elixir’s eyes filled him with dread.

Now Eternity
awaited. Perhaps in there at some obscure time he would find the
right answers. Perhaps Elianas had them. Apparently soon.

His heart
thudded once.

Lowen
awakened, sensing his restlessness. She looked at him with those
startling eyes that churned his gut, and he looked at her. She knew
he could read her bleak soul, but did not attempt to hide it from
him - it was how she could hurt him. She desired to hurt him. And
hated herself for that.

“Kiss me,” she
murmured.

He did, for it
was the closest he came to emotion.

“He will
come,” Quilla said, more to himself than the others. “He needs to …
ah, I don’t know what happened in Grinwallin, how can I know what
he needs!”

“It’s been
weeks,” Jonas complained.

Declan
snapped. “The Kaval functions as he’d expect, and we’re frequently
absent also. Gods, stop moaning.” The Siric was worried.

Belun paced
the Dome floor, saying nothing. What use words, when Torrullin was
Elixir, as good as a god? Elixir was a law unto himself.

Fuma, the
Deorc Mind Delver, read their individual concerns and spoke, “He
has had a long life, not as long as some, but it will certainly be
longer than any other, and such longevity is cumbersome. All
Immortals long for death at one time or another and occasionally we
deliberately seek it. Elixir has not that small choice and it is
numbing knowledge. Who wants to live forever?”

“Your point?”
Jimini asked.

“He will
vanish periodically to retain sanity. Quit your anxiety and allow
him this time.”

“Yes,” Quilla
nodded. “But … he has always been, Fuma. Beginning and end, and
that cannot be measured.” He looked up. “Torrullin became aware
only recently of his soul and that at his first birth, but he is
older than that. Do you not see? He is Time.”

“Metaphysically,” Jonas said. “Right?”

“I don’t
know,” Quilla sighed.

“Nobody knows
where truth and fantasy divide,” Belun murmured. “If they divide
for our Torrullin.”

The Dragon
ogive chimed.

Elixir’s
doorway.

Well, what do
they say about speaking of the devil? Belun and Declan glanced at
each other, and then faced the Dragon entrance.

The rest of
the Kaval rose.

Torrullin
ambled in and stopped to study the seriousness, the anxiety, the
relief … and the welcome. Clearly, they were discussing him.

“Forgive me.
Next time I shall warn of an impending absence. Well. To business,
then, and to getting to know our strengths and weaknesses.” He
smiled, enveloping all in its warmth.

“Lowen?”
Quilla echoed.

“Later. She
will come later, or perhaps not at all. We shall find a replacement
if she chooses another path.”

Cold,
Torrullin.

Welcome to
my soul, Quilla.
“Right. Belun, what is priority at this
time?”

The Centuar
blinked and grinned. “An easy one - a volcano on Lari, with a twist
in that they think anything with two legs is a danger!”

Torrullin
returned the grin and ambled to the console of lights. As ever, it
blinked.

“I’m here,” he
whispered at it and then gazed over the thirteen Kaval. “We have
the time we need to get to know one another and I look forward to
it, but let us take this slowly, shall we? With time to hand the
distraction of discovering who you are and what you are capable of
is something to be cherished. There, now you know something about
me - I hate that time is all I have to hold onto. And I require the
occasional distraction.”

They stared
back at him. Those who did not know him well, were discomfited, and
those who did know him, prepared to shake him out of his
emotionless state. He was friend as well as leader.

Torrullin
opened his hearing, sight, taste, smell and touch senses, and
sensed first the mixed emotions within the Dome.

They would
learn where the lines were drawn. This time he possessed clearly
demarcated lines.

“Jimini, you
will go to Lari; Erin, we need discuss your previous mission;
Quilla, Beacon’s dragging swordfish from Lexus again; Jonas, you
and Fuma are off to Ceta to study their new spacecraft; Declan, I
have a personal mission for you; Galarth, take the next transport
from Scortas to Lax … you will soon know why …”

And thus it
was that Elixir and his Kaval assumed the roles the Immortal
Guardians filled for millennia. Taranis, Lord of the Guardians and
Torrullin’s father, would be proud. He would also be especially
concerned. His son’s mental health was not in perfect order.

Taranis, alas,
was no longer there to point it out.

After the Dome
cleared and Torrullin had discussed Erin’s results, Declan
approached.

Belun, too,
was on a mission.

He watched the
man stare at the console of lights. Something heavy weighed upon
him. Something that could undo him.

“Torrullin.”

“Declan, do
these lights react like this to everyone?”

“No.”

“Amazing.”

Yes, it
is.
“Torrullin, you have a personal mission.”

Torrullin
stepped from the console and began wandering along the perimeter of
the white Gatherers’ Circle. “I need someone to watch the Valla
boys.”

“The Elders
…”

“No. Someone
objective.”

“Torrullin, I
know Siric are traditionally objective - cold fish, some have
called us - but I lost my objectivity the day you held my soul in
your hands. I’ll watch them with pleasure, but do so with absolute
bias.”

Torrullin
stopped and swung around. He smiled. It was a genuine smile. “Maybe
that’s better. Thank you.”

Declan ambled
closer. “What is so heavy?”

The shutters
came down. “The burden is mine.”

“Fine, but
tell me this, is it because of that night in Grinwallin?”

“It’s a host
of issues, Declan, including Saska, Tymall, the boys, Valaris …
and, yes, what I learned that night. Gods, and Lowen. Some things
should not be spoken of … and we did. God help us, we did.”

“I don’t
understand.”

“But I do. She
does. How long before it destroys …? Never mind.”

Declan
wandered away, not as enlightened as he hoped, but more in the
frame. Personal demons, then. Time would smooth some of it, and the
road would get easier.

Then Torrullin
said something that caused the Siric to realise the main problem
went deeper and was more profound than anybody anticipated.

“Someone
enters the stage of time soon … and then
everything
will
change irrevocably.”

“Who?” Declan
whispered.

A grim smile.
“His name is Nemesis.”

Lore of
Reaume
is followed by the four volumes in
Lore of
Sanctum
.

The Nemesis
Blade
– Lore of Sanctum I

Other Books by
Elaina J Davidson

Lore of
Arcana

The Infinity
Mantle

The Kinfire
Tree

The Drowned
Throne

The Dragon
Circle

Secret
Remedies

Lore of
Reaume

The Kallanon
Scales

The Nemisin
Star

The Sleeper
Sword

The Dreamer
Stones

The Tinsal
Deck

Short Stories
and Novellas

Latticework

Our Friend
Thomas Henson

FingerNale
Tales

Ancient
Illumination

About the
Author

Elaina is a
galactic and universal traveller and dreamer. When writing she puts
into words her travels and dreams, because she believes there is
inspiration in even the most outrageous tale.

Elaina was
born in South Africa and grew up in the magical city and surrounds
of Cape Town. After studying Purchasing Management and working in
the formal sector as a buyer, she chose to raise and home-school
her children.

She started
writing novels around 2002, moving from children’s stories, poetry
and short stories to concentrate on larger works. She lived with
her family for some time in Ireland and subsequently in New
Zealand. Returned to South Africa, she realises the vibrancy of
Africa has much to do with the inspirational side of her work.

Something
happens daily, something to shock, something to uplift, and the
colours and diversity of nature itself fires the imagination.