The Nemesis Blade (70 page)

As they were
about to transport out, a point in time, a consensus wordlessly
attained, Elianas laid a hand on Torrullin’s arm.

“Wait. I need
you to know this. If ever you are lost, if I am missing, seek this
place. Find it again.”

A beat.
“Missing?”

“I am just
saying. I will know to find you here, and it works the other way,
too.”

“We are out of
time, actual time, Elianas. Finding this again will not be
easy.”

“I know.”

“Then
why?”

“Because our
home is an answer.”

“And the
question is?”

The dark man
loosed a sigh. “Us.”

“Elianas, the
city …”

Immediately
shutters veiled the dark man’s expression.. “We deal with what we
find. Just remember this place, no matter what happens.”

“As if I could
forget now.”

It was a
reference to the night, the storm, hands on skin, and Elianas gave
him a searching gaze.

“It is time to
go.”

It was
overcast in the morning and rain threatened.

The city did
not appear oppressed by the weather. It was a city of light and
could thus never be dark.

Quilla sat on
one of the park benches before ‘their’ building and was deep in
thought. The others came and went, to eat, to use the bathroom, to
talk, to go off exploring, to return to make contact, but Quilla
sat on.

He listened to
the stones.

The stone the
buildings were constructed of did not sing, but they possessed
another manner of communication. Their vibrations had pattern and
rhythm and that was what he listened to. The vibrations were coded,
a mixture of technology, magic, time and emotion, and he floundered
in a sea of conflicting messages.

It would not
prevent him attempting to find clarity.

The birdman
pushed external distraction out, even the peripheral awareness of
the others, and tunnelled his concentration to specifics.

The others
noted the fierceness of his meditation and chose to leave him
alone.

Gradually they
dispersed, except Declan, who perched on a boulder, equally deep in
thought. Near him was a plaque where the name of the city had been
smoothed over. He stared at it periodically, as if searching for an
answer in a lack of name.

Thus it was
they were only two in proximity when Torrullin and Elianas came;
they were also so deeply away they remained unaware.

For Torrullin
and Elianas, remembrance restored their power; they transported
in.

Or perhaps
restoration was due to their familiarity with the domain they now
traversed, be it of memory or reality. Whatever it was, they had
power returned and they came to the place where they sensed a
greater warmth, and there discovered Quilla and Declan.

It meant the
others were in the city also; they had hoped to find it deserted.
The team headed west too fast.

Perhaps
witnesses were required.

After glancing
at each other, in complicity, Torrullin ambled over to Quilla and
rested his hand on the birdman’s shoulder.

Initially
startled, Quilla then broke from his reverie to look up. Relief
flooded into his face.

“Torrullin,
thank the gods. You made good time.” He paused, sensing
undercurrents. “Any news on Lowen?”

Declan,
hearing the birdman’s voice, focused. He was about to smile when
the strangeness in both Torrullin and Elianas arrested him. He
approached, breaking out into a sweat.

Lowen had not
featured in the preceding hours. “Nothing on Lowen yet,” Torrullin
murmured. “We were led somewhere else.” He gazed into the city, a
twitch in his jaw betraying tension.

Elianas’ gaze
swept everywhere, an expression of suffering on his face.

Torrullin
said, “Her name is Kalgaia.”

Quilla slowly
rose. He discovered Declan breathing strangely beside him.

“Glittering
soul of all earth,” Elianas whispered.

Torrullin drew
breath and raised his voice to shout out, “Kalgaia, your name is
restored!”

Elianas’ eyes
shone.

A bird sang
out.

Elianas
laughed.

Another joined
in and then birdsong filled the spaces. A city of music.

“The city was
built on music, and thus she lives forever,” Torrullin
murmured.

Elianas smiled
and wandered over to the plaque Declan had been sitting with. His
hand stroked there. “Kalgaia, you have your identity returned.”

Declan drew
breath. Dear gods.

Rose and
Teroux came running. “Did you see? Names are appearing everywhere!
Torrullin, you’re back!” Teroux cried out.

“What names?”
Quilla asked.

“Mostly
Kalgaia, but Kalgil, Gaiamor, and hear the birds, Quilla! It’s as
if the city is coming alive!”

“It is,”
Declan murmured. “Its master has returned.”

“Where?”
Teroux then realised what the Siric meant. He stared at
Torrullin.

Torrullin
ignore the reaction; instead he asked, “Which building opened to
you?”

Rose pointed
it out.

Elianas
grinned. “Gaia Hotel. Makes sense.”

“Torrullin,
please, will you talk?” Quilla asked.

Torrullin
looked at Elianas. “So many witnesses.”

The dark man’s
amusement vanished. “What was it you said about paying? This is a
small price.”

“You are
right.”

Declan stepped
up to Torrullin and laid his hand over Torrullin’s heart. “You have
remembered. You know who you were and are.” He closed his eyes and
pressed harder with his fingers. “You are not alone.” The Siric
removed his hand, opened his eyes and retreated.

“What is he
doing?” Elianas snapped.

“A true soul,
you said so yourself. Declan lent me his strength.” Torrullin bowed
to the Siric. “I thank you.”

Declan
inclined his head.

Elianas bowed
also. “You are worth many men, Siric. I salute you.”

Teroux
blinked, his gaze swivelling from one to the other. “Please, what
is happening?”

“Reopening old
wounds,” Torrullin responded, and then he was decisive. “Call
everyone together to meet on the bridge at the aqueduct.” He smiled
at Teroux, but tension lay in that gesture. “A city’s soul is
people, but its beating heart is the water. To restore the heart we
must give homage. The Lifesource.” His gaze swept to Quilla.
“Always we acknowledge the waters of life.”

“Yes,” Quilla
said. “And the first freedom is in the naming.”

Torrullin
bowed. “You understand, as ever.” He straightened. “Come, my
brother, it is time.”

They walked
swiftly away.

Quilla swung
to Declan. “Can he hold?”

“Yes,” Declan
sighed. “Whatever happened here, they did it together. There are no
longer four Ancients here, but five, and those two are so close
they are virtually one. Come, let us find the others. Teroux, you
two go that way.” When they were alone, he said, “Strength may not
be enough in the long term, Quilla. He remembers … and that will
fell him.”

Quilla, wise
birdman, was speechless.

“He is too
calm and also too tense. He holds in and thinks. He will think too
much, and shut down will follow. Maybe not today, Quilla, but one
day soon. Elianas was right; this is about Torrullin.”

Quilla
sighed.

The Siric held
a finger aloft, adding, “This is another instalment in The Valla’s
saga …”

“… but?”
Quilla murmured.

“Elianas is
part of it.”

“I still hear
a ‘but’.”

The Siric murmured, “Soon Elianas will carry a title the
universe will recognise him by, akin to Elixir for Torrullin. This
is about Torrullin, yes, but it is also the unveiling of a power
equal
in every way
to him.”

Quilla, wise
birdman, was again speechless.

Chapter 52

Life.
Beautiful, a rose upon a stem of thorns.

~ Arc,
poet

Kalgaia

T
he aqueduct system was not merely
functional; it was beautiful.

From a series
of crystal lakes, canals radiated out into the city, some vanishing
below ground, others along flower bordered streams and others
crossing arched stone bridges. The whole had the sense of
antiquity, and functioned as if erected the day before.

Torrullin and
Elianas waited on the broad bridge that spanned the central lake.
This bridge was for pedestrians and benches lined both sides, as
well as flower boxes and potted trees.

Teighlar and
Dechend were last to arrive. “I hear something is about to happen,”
Teighlar said.

Torrullin
said, “You heard right.”

Teighlar
heaved an exasperated sigh. “Naturally. But, for Aaru’s sake, do
not tell me you built this city.”

Torrullin gave
a laugh. “Sorry.”

Teighlar gave
another sigh, this one long-suffering. “I figured. Damn it.”

“You built
it?” Tianoman blurted.

Torrullin
stared up at the towers. “When the universe was new.”

Saska clutched
her throat. “You have remembered.”

He nodded
once.

“How much?”
she whispered.

He shrugged.
It would be hard to quantify the time involved. “I assume
everything.”

“Will you tell
us?” Tristan murmured.

“No.”

“Torrullin …”
Quilla began.

“No, no and
no. None of you here will comprehend the immensity of time. You,
Quilla, speak of the Great Curve, but you have not once closed the
circle to restart it anew,” Torrullin said. “For this, no words
will be enough. Ever.”

Quilla
blinked. “Are you all right?”

“I
function.”

“Torrullin, please,” Saska whispered. “Say
something
…”

He drew breath
and looked at her. Beside him Elianas was still; he knew the man
understood what he would now do.

They certainly
had not discussed this, and yet both knew it was the next and
natural step. He took a pace and the movement freed some of his
tension. He went to Saska and took her hands in his own.

“Saska, it no
longer matters whether there is guilt or hindsight. What happened
with Cat is but a tiny moment and it is far too small to ripple
out. I forgive you if you need it of me, but it is no longer
important, please believe that.”

A tear rolled
over her cheek.

He lifted her
hands to his mouth and kissed them. “I am letting you go,
Saska.”

“What … why?”
She began to shake.

He claimed her
lips briefly. “Had this been the only time gifted me, I would fight
for you,” he whispered, “but so much has gone before I know there
is only so much I dare hold onto. You must release me, please.”

Her breath
shuddered. “How?”

“Say the words
and then try, with the time given you, to believe them.”

“I
cannot!”

He touched her
face and smiled sadly. “Very well; when you are ready.” His hands
dropped away and he turned from her.

“Torrullin!”

He did not
turn back.

“Torrullin,
please!”

He halted
beside Maple. “You have temporal passage through this time realm;
the Syllvan granted it.”

Maple
nodded.

“Use it now to
take Saska wherever she wants to go. They will allow a second to
pass through.”

“No!” Saska
shouted.

Torrullin
stared into Maple’s eyes. “Now, please.”

Maple
swallowed. Torrullin did not turn around as the Tracloc approached
Saska, took her shoulders in his hands, and vanished with her.

Torrullin
walked on and turned as he reached Elianas.

Something in
the man’s eyes shared sympathy.

“My god,”
Caballa blurted. “Like that?”

Torrullin
ignored the outburst. He pointed at the city.

“Her name is Kalgaia and she was built at a time when the
Valleur were two people.” He dropped his gaze to the team. “Do not
interrupt now. Once the Valleur were golden
and
dark. They were not separate;
they were one in everything. Life was good and all flourished; it
was a perfect time. No war, no strife, no hunger, no disease. This
city stood fair and gleaming at the heart of an empire and all
adored her. She was imagined and created from love. Was I the
architect? Yes, and I built her as monument to the love I bore … my
people.”

Next to him,
Elianas breathed slower.

Torrullin
stared into the gleaming city. “I was betrayed by that love and
thus the city paid the price. The soul of Kalgaia paid. In anger
and hate I swept in to destroy the dark Valleur and when their
brethren entered the city to come to their aid, I destroyed them
also. Until only Golden remained.”

Utter
silence.

He focused his
gaze on the people dear to him.

“They called
me Darak Or and cursed me. The day came when anger bled away and
hate dissipated and I was shocked by my actions. I murdered half my
people over a small betrayal. In the time after I chose to forget,
until the time came to restore. That time has now come.”

“Torrullin was
not alone is this,” Elianas said. “And I was the one who needed to
remember.” He drew breath. “It cannot be undone; no dark Valleur
will populate the universe beyond this realm; no new future will
arise from atonement. Yet restore we shall this day, for our
redemption lies in the sincerity of this act.”

“Darak Or?”
Teroux’s voice was small.

“And his
creature,” Elianas said. “We were both eternally cursed.”

Tristan
stepped forward. “You are Valleur.”

“Yes, I
am.”

“You betrayed
him.”

“Yes, I
did.”

“Nemesis,”
Tianoman breathed.