The Nemesis Blade (29 page)

“I read about
the Dancing Suns on Nemisin’s bier,” Declan said.

Torrullin
stared at the Siric. “His bier?”

“Saska showed
me.”

“His bier is
still there?”

“Untouched.”

Torrullin
closed his eyes. “Well, well, another piece of the puzzle.”

“None of this
explains why we need Agnimus.”

“Sabian,”
Sabian corrected.

“Whatever,”
Declan muttered. “Torrullin, how does he fit in?”

“I told you we
need an Ancient to speak to us of Time and sent you to find
Agnimus. However, we need four.”

“Four, Suns …
solve …” Declan whispered.

“Quilla is of
the Dancing Suns,” Torrullin pointed out, “and Sabian. Teighlar is
of the Dancing Suns also.”

Declan burst
out, “Impossible. Even if we follow the threads, the Luvans only
began six billion years ago, and the Senlu came after that.
Teighlar wandered ethereal for ninety million years. It makes him
old; it does not make him an Ancient.”

“Two niggling
factors change it,” Torrullin said. “One, the Luvans reincarnated
and, two, Teighlar is not Senlu. He is Luvan.”

Declan
sighed.

“High King …
always.”

“Emperor,”
Declan understood, and sat.

Quilla sighed
then.

“Birdman, you
better talk soon,” Torrullin frowned.

“Once you have
heard the rest. In the Dome.”

“Wait, wait,”
Declan said. “That’s three Ancients. Who else? The Siric may be
regarded as Ancients, but we are of an epoch after the Dancing Suns
- which leaves me out. Who else is there?”

Sabian
smiled.

Quilla
stilled.

Torrullin
stared up. “Me.”

Dead
silence.

Torrullin sat
up and then stood. “The Animated Spirit. Elixir of Life. Me. The
Curve is round, Declan.” He sighed as well. “I wish memory kept
apace of time.”

“I do not
understand,” Declan said.

“Neither do I
… yet.” Torrullin drew breath. Released. “It is time to hear the
rest. Sabian, another choice is before you.”

“There is only
one choice.”

Torrullin
nodded. “Come, then.” He walked out and Sabian followed.

Declan snapped
his gaze over at Quilla. “
High King is the One
… does that
not put Teighlar in opposition with Torrullin?”

“They already
are. Come, let us get to the Dome.”

The Dome

At the console
Torrullin said, “Meet Sabian, a master historian. He will sit in on
the balance of this meeting.”

The Kaval
studied the fair man with interest and most offered a nod by way of
greeting. Sabian, to them, was what they expected to see - a man of
learning, contained and in control.

He bowed in
their direction.

“Prima, make
space for our guest,” and Prima shifted, spoke a command and an
additional seat rose from the floor.

Declan and
Quilla entered to retake their seats.

“Back to
order. Galarth, if you will?” Torrullin leaned onto the console, by
all appearances listening, but Quilla soon realised his mind was
elsewhere.

Galarth began
to speak. “Inundation. As mentioned, Sanctuary has a long history
of those.”

“Why?” Prima
interrupted. “This world seems stable enough.”

“And is, for
long periods,” Galarth agreed. “However, Sanctuary has heavy ice
caps, one far larger than the other, and so it always is here.
She’s top heavy, so to speak, and the caps encroach century by
century until Sanctuary tumbles off her axis. The oceans move,
bringing waters onto the land, and the caps melt swiftly, lifting
the level. New caps form as swiftly and the cycle begins anew. We
are at the start of new stability, yet the day comes when we must
act in the interest of survival.”

Erin murmured,
“I guess, then, the landmasses today aren’t quite what they
were.”

“Actually,
they’re not that changed. They are, however, situated in different
climes.”

“What of
Luvanor?” Declan asked.

“Luvanor has
experienced rising sea levels, but nothing on the scale here.
Flooded coastlines, but no radical annihilation. The Luvans were
safe anyway - they chose high ground to settle on.”

“Grinwallin,”
Jonas murmured.

Torrullin’s
head lifted and he focused.

Declan
frowned. “Gal, wait a while, will you? Shedo, what of the Senlu?
They are part of Luvanor’s history.”

“Admittedly,
and play a huge role. Unfortunately Luvan history is all I
uncovered.”

“Titania has
nothing on the Senlu?”

“Nothing.”

“Why is
that?”

Shenendo
shrugged.

“Because the
Senlu are Luvan,” Sabian spoke up.

“Impossible.”
The remark came from Jonas.

Torrullin
said, “True. We forget how much time passed. The last of the
Diluvans made it to a new world, where they called themselves the
Luvans. They settled across five continents. A time came when there
was great upheaval, volcanic disturbances and massive earthquakes,
and for thousands of years one continent was forcibly separated
from the others by impassable fires and deep trenches in the
oceans. Time moved on and volatility collapsed, and in the ensuing
settling of nature, those who were on the fifth continent not only
regarded themselves as separate, but were also regarded as another
race by the Luvans of Tunin, Atrin, Kantar and Limir. The people of
Senluar became known as the Senlu.”

“Gods,” Declan
muttered.

“Is Teighlar
aware of this?” Erin asked.

Torrullin
leaned long over the console. “Teighlar may be in denial.”

“Why would you
think that?” Ignatius frowned.

Quilla tapped
the marble slab. “We are off track now. Leave Teighlar, the Senlu
and the Luvans. Galarth, please continue.”

Galarth rubbed
at his cheek. “There are undercurrents here in this Dome, and it’s
not right.”

Torrullin
straightened. “At this time, Galarth, they will remain, for your
protection.”

Galarth
swallowed. “Yes, my lord.”

“Continue your
report.”

“Yes.
Inundation. There are many such events, encompassing many worlds.
Most every world has a tale of the waters rising and receding.
Sanctuary holds the record for frequency, but doesn’t hold the
record for the largest total annihilation of a people. The Diluvans
were made extinct, yes, yet the loss of life was small compared to
another event.”

Galarth paused
to add drama. He had everyone’s attention, including Sabian’s.

“Gods,”
Torrullin ground out. “Will you say?”

“Akhavar, my
Lord.”

“Never heard
of it,” Declan said.

Sabian smiled.
“There is a legend of Akhavar …”

“Sabian!”
Torrullin’s voice was a whiplash. “You speak when you are asked to
offer an opinion.”

“Torrullin?”
Belun murmured. “Man, are you all right?”

Torrullin drew
breath. He was ashen, the golden tint in his skin missing. He
glared at Quilla. “Which stones, Q’li’qa’mz?”

Quilla dipped
his head, acknowledging Torrullin’s intuition. “Akhavar’s stones,
Enchanter.”

Torrullin
gripped at the console. “Total annihilation, Galarth?”

“Thus the
legend states.”

Sabian cleared
his throat.

“Some
survived?” Torrullin demanded of him.

“Those in the
mountain halls survived,” Sabian murmured, “and thus a new time
began.”

“It begins to
fit.”

Sabian nodded.
“Indeed.”

“Nothing
fits!” Jonas burst out. “We talk of Sanctuary and Luvanor as if
they’re connected, and maybe they are, but Akhavar? And where does
Nemisin’s world fit into all this?”

“Nemisin’s
world?” Torrullin repeated.

“Yes!” Jonas
blurted. “The geological date points to Nemisin’s world! Which has
bugger all to do with Sanctuary, Luvanor or bloody … what was it?
Akhavar.”

“Your brother
says Nemisin’s world?”

Jonas swiped a
report from the slab and waved it. “In black and white, and after I
told him you thought it might be Luvanor, and I collected samples
from Luvanor and Sanctuary. They didn’t fit, he said, so he found
some obscure sample - Nemisin’s world.”

“Which time
does your brother assign?”

Jonas sighed,
paged through his report and read from it, “Indications are of
early sediment, such as would be found after …” He looked up and
stared at Galarth. “… inundation. A new world arose from the
receded flood, one a geologist must date at prehistory. Fossil
records suggest the Epoch of Krombia.” Jonas threw the report down.
“There’s more geological jargon, but that epoch is his best guess,
given the little he had to work with and constraints of time.”

“All worlds
older than ten billion years have an Epoch of Krombia,” Prima
murmured. “How did he come to the conclusion?”

“Oh, for
crying out loud … that’s what he does!” Jonas shouted. “He just
knows.”

“The Epoch of
Krombia is also known as the Dancing Suns,” Torrullin said. “And
thus we are back to ancient time.”

Declan sat
forward with his head in his hands. “Gods.”

“And Nemisin’s
world was known as Akhavar,” Torrullin continued.

Declan
groaned.

Sabian
grinned.

Quilla rose
then. “Allow me to make sense of this.”

“Please,”
Ignatius muttered.

Quilla paced
around the slab and came to stand next to Torrullin. The birdman
was not much bigger than the console.

He pointed up
at his companion.

“My Lord
Elixir hears disturbing news this day, so we must forgive his …
recalcitrance.”

He glanced up
as Torrullin glared down at him, and then faced the Kaval.

“Let us put it
together, shall we? Top of the list is the Three Kingdoms prophecy.
In it we have the Three, which is a direct assumption of the time
Orb was divided; it is also a warning of the three Valla heirs.
Past and present melding. The prophecy further mentions the Vacuum
of Time, which refers specifically to legendary time, and that
would be the Dancing Suns … or Krombia. That past is connected to
this present. How, you ask?

“And I answer
by reminding you of a Kingdom that will arise Thrice. The first
time was the maturing of a young race, the second was the new race
after a severe inundation, and the third is due now. My friends, I
speak of the Valleur. First there were the sentients who became the
Ancients of the Dancing Suns, and they went on to become the
Valleur of today. They began on Nemisin’s world - Akhavar - a world
recently brought back to life … for the third time. The Valleur
bridge Time, do they not? They were first, they settled on Luvanor
and Valaris, they helped build this new Sanctuary and still they
are with us.”

Torrullin
touched Quilla on the shoulder. “I will take it from there.”

Quilla smiled,
bowed and stepped away.

“The Force of
Myth refers to rumour,” Torrullin said. “The army we are supposedly
preparing here, but it also refers to the army that came sweeping
into Orb at the time five hundred had already left for Luvanor. A
Valleur army, Kaval, headed by Nemisin.”

“Uh-uh, the
time frame is off,” Shenendo interrupted.

Torrullin gave
a tight smile. “So it would seem, but Nemisin could manipulate
time, a little trick the Dragon Neolone taught him. He was of
Krombian time and he railed against the fates that gave him no one
to war on, to prove mastery over, and thus he sought opponents in
the future.”

“Dear god,”
Jonas muttered.

“
He
thought he was a god,” Torrullin said, “and even his army did not
realise it had crossed a barrier. They found the remnant Diluvans,
they finished them off, and returned to Akhavar with the tale of
Others. The Valleur Throne came into its own then, as did Nemisin
and the Vallorinship; the Golden needed a strong arm to deal with
intruders.”

“That is
diabolical,” Prima whispered.

“Nemisin was
not a saint,” Torrullin admitted. “Akhavar, Sanctuary and Luvanor
are thus connected, and connected by an Ancient crime.”

“A puzzle,”
Erin remarked, “and slowly the pieces fit. Someone else knows about
this and is stirring, creating the Force Real.”

“Exactly,”
Quilla said.

“Who?” Prima
asked.

“Agnimus?”
Jonas suggested.

“It isn’t
Agnimus,” Torrullin said.

“How can you
be sure?” Jonas demanded.

Declan stared
at his hands as Torrullin replied, “I am sure.”

Jonas
grimaced, but did not push.

“Kaval, I am
the Link spoken of in the prophecy. I do not claim to be a Creator,
but that is one aspect of Elixir. I am the link because I am a
Walker of Realms and I have spoken with Nemisin.”

They knew that
about him.

“It has been
revealed today Nemisin’s bier stands intact on Akhavar, and thus
another connection is forged. Not only is Nemisin’s soul still
restless, but also is his body preserved. I know him and thus am
one of the Four who must solve the riddle.”

“Five, and I
don’t care what the bloody prophecy says. I am in this until the
very end,” Declan stated.

“Which four
and what riddle?” Shenendo demanded.

“The last
Ancient Four, of which I am one, being the link. The other three,
and that stubborn Siric, are Quilla, Teighlar and … Sabian.”

“Sabian?”
Prima exploded. “Thirty-eight year old Sabian?”

“Yes,”
Torrullin said, “and that is all I have to say on the subject.”

Sabian was
then regarded with suspicion, but he remained unfazed, merely
watching and listening to Torrullin.

“Undercurrents,” Galarth muttered.

“
The Curve
creates the Three anew …
” Erin quoted. “Orb and Valla heirs, is
that what you’re saying? And if Orb is the victim of an ancient
crime, and Orb is connected to Luvanor, my Lord Elixir, does it not
fit logic that the source of these rumours is on Luvanor?”