The Nemesis Blade (79 page)

When Teroux
tentatively kissed her, Rose smiled at him and quietly led him to a
private place.

There were no
games involved in their union.

Both felt as
if they head reached a safe haven.

Akhavar

Saska
alternatively cursed Torrullin, and longed for him.

She cursed
Elianas continuously.

Time went by
and she found some measure of distraction in dealing with the
Elders of Akhavar. Stores were laid in and farms commissioned in
fertile zones. Slowly Valleur from Valaris and Luvanor began coming
in to take up residence in the mountain abode and out in the open
air.

There was much
to organise, including a proclamation about the sensitive state of
Akhavar’s natural order.

Saska was
frequently busy, but her entire being waited for Torrullin to
return.

Digilan

Warlock Tymall
leaned on his hands, staring at a map of the mists of Digilan.

How anyone
could figure this was a map, made no sense to him, for curling
lines did not prove direction or destination here at all.

Not that he
saw any of it. His attention focused on inner thoughts.
Dilemmas.

He suspected
Elianas was the nemesis his name implied. The dark man was not a
benign figure from the past, no mere apprentice. He possessed power
the realms needed to be made aware of swiftly.

Tymall’s
fingers curled into fists.

Elianas would
undo his father. Torrullin Valla would soon become someone else
entirely.

A fist smashed
down.

The dark man would
not
take his father from him.

Peace, friend,
only peace.

Unknown

Place of
Peace

S
he opened her eyes to find a tiny
blue bird perched on her chest.

Entranced, she
lay unmoving. Blue feathers, little contours of green and misty
red. It was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. And the
most serene. It lifted into the air and was gone, and tears ran
over her cheeks over the loss. Such loss.

“Lowen, it’s
all right.” Tristan’s voice.

She realised
she lay on grass and above her an oak tree rustled. Ancient
grandfather.

“Where are
we?” she managed, surprised she had voice.

“We don’t
know,” Caballa murmured. “Sit up and stretch slowly. You will feel
stiff at first.”

Lowen sat up
and felt the painful resistance in her muscles. As bid, she
stretched slowly until pain eased. Then she looked around.

Tristan and
Caballa sat with arms wrapped around each other, and seemed at ease
together. In the dark they had discovered completeness. How lucky
they were, she thought.

Quilla lay
curled into a tiny ball at the base of the tree, his body moving
rhythmically in sleep. An innocent face and an innocent soul,
despite the long length of his years. He was lucky, too.

She lifted her
gaze.

Two tree trunk
creatures rested immobile a distance away.

“The Syllvan
are here?”

“So that’s
what they are,” Tristan murmured. “We wondered.”

Lowen drew a
breath and looked beyond them. Green hills, sparkling river. Blue
sky, birdsong. A benign place, welcoming after a difficult
journey.

She looked the
other way and then the other.

“They are not
here,” Caballa said.

Lowen stood,
stretched some more and then ambled over to the two Syllvan. She
stood before them and cleared her throat.

A shake and a
shudder, branch arms shivered, and they looked at her.

She bowed. “I
am honoured to see you again.”

“We welcome
you, Lowen Dalrish. We know you,” one boomed.

She knew how
it worked. A question would beget an answer, but she could ask only
two, one to each, and she had a host of questions.

Torrullin once
stood in similar quandary - what to ask when so much needed
answered?

She closed her
eyes and thought.

“How did we
get here?”

The one who
spoke welcome shook with laughter. “A question that forces a long
answer, and thus answers other questions. Clever. Very well. You
entered the void and the Gatekeepers always watch the void. We saw
you, we tracked you, and yet you fell so far and so fast we were
powerless to intervene, until you stopped. We plucked you from that
place to this, for this is a place of peace, a place to recover, to
choose, to think, to know. And - this is an added reply, lady seer,
for you are not to waste a question - your missing companions have
been found and are being brought here. They will be with you
soon.”

Lowen put her
hand over her heart. “Thank you.” She wanted to ask how long, but
that did not matter as much. Not yet.

“My
pleasure.”

She looked at
the second Syllvan. “You know what I speak of when I ask - did we
succeed?”

A wheeze of
laughter erupted from the tree. “Clever. She does not ask do we
know the point of this foolish journey through the void, does she?
For we do know. Yes, my lady, you have succeeded. All is as you
hoped and your companions have returned to their lives. Time has
passed for them and they say nothing of what almost happened. They
trust you will return whole, although lack of a definitive answer
causes underlying anxiety, particularly for the two Vallas. The
Tracloc - we like him - has discovered true welcome among his kin
and works with the Lady of Life as need arises, and Sabian has
become indispensable in Menllik, although the Valleur do not know
his history or true identity. His choice.”

The Syllvan
paused and then, “Time has passed beyond here, sufficient for all
to be as it should be, but not so much that it will be strange for
you upon your return. Tianoman is Vallorin of the Valleur and has
wed. Teroux and Rose have declared their intentions, but must wait
for the Valla heir to be born before they may formally marry. We
believe they require blessing from Elixir as well. The Dome is in
orbit around Sanctuary and the Kaval function successfully with
Declan as undisputed leader. He keeps a light on, as bid. The Siric
is the purest soul, but that is of no matter right now.

“The Senlu
Emperor is a happy man and has begun to travel, but has not said
anything about their true heritage. We believe he awaits Elixir
before speaking out. Dechend is his most trusted advisor and
Grinwallin is at peace. As for the rest, Ymir is strictly
monitored, in the event. Lax has been pulled apart and is in the
process of complete renewal. Beacon is more diplomatic than in the
past and the Dalrish of Xen III go from strength to strength. As
for Saska - she waits on Akhavar. Akhavar is in the process of calm
resettlement and is proving quite self-sufficient. And that is all
I have to say - more than you asked, I believe.”

Lowen bowed.
“Thank you. My God, it feels like yesterday.”

The Syllvan
said no more.

She glanced
behind her.

Quilla was
awake and had obviously listened intently. He was thoughtful, and
Caballa and Tristan were wordless.

“They come,”
the first Syllvan boomed.

A moment after
that it seemed as if two mighty trunks sprouted into old age in an
instant. Two more Syllvan had arrived, and each carried a
burden.

Lowen rushed
forward, but Tristan beat her.

“I will take
them,” Tristan said, and lifted the unconscious form of Torrullin
from two branch limbs to lie him down.

Lowen bent
over him while Tristan retrieved Elianas from the other. He brought
him over and placed him beside Torrullin.

He
straightened. “Thank you.”

The one who
carried Torrullin said, “Keep them together. They belong
together.”

Lowen looked
up with stark eyes.

Tristan gazed
back at the creature. “Why were they separated from us?”

“They had
further to go, for more layers needed to be stripped away to expose
the inner beings.”

Tristan looked
to the other. “What do we do now?”

A strange
chuckle. “You wait for Elixir to awaken.”

The other
added, “They are sleeping only.”

Then, without
warning or greeting, the Syllvan were gone.

Tristan looked
upon Lowen’s bent head and then at Torrullin. He appeared younger
in real sleep. He transferred his gaze to Elianas; saw there fine
care lines shadowed by long, dark lashes. Elianas, he realised was
closer in age to Torrullin than they had thought. Elianas, he
acknowledged, was beautiful as few men could claim. He sighed and
bent to lift the man and moved him closer to Torrullin … and stood
back a pace.

Elianas moved,
curled, and placed his head on Torrullin’s chest. Torrullin’s knee
bent and he shifted. A hand was thrown across Elianas’ back.

Lowen rose and
walked away, her face like stone. The two men slept on, and Tristan
stood a moment longer, wondering what the Syllvan meant when he
said they belonged together.

He returned to
the others. “Well, we survived the void and all is as it should be.
There is that.”

Nobody said
anything. Thinking of the void removed the power of speech.

Experiences
there were so personal they could not be shared.

Torrullin’s
eyes snapped open first, and he saw blue sky.

Normality. He
heaved a sigh of relief, and felt the weight on his chest. Elianas.
He shook the man and the weight lifted off.

“Where are
we?” Elianas muttered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He noted
the others nearby and smiled greeting. The smile was
unaffected.

“Aaru knows,”
Torrullin said as he stood. He stretched. “Gods, that hurts,” he
muttered in astonishment. He, too, saw the others. “We made it, I
assume.”

“And
succeeded,” Quilla smiled.

Torrullin lent
Elianas a hand, pulling the wincing man up.

“The Syllvan
brought us to this place,” Lowen murmured, “and told us what
happened on the other side of here.”

Torrullin’s
good humour curdled. He looked around. “Place of Peace?”

Elianas ceased
stretching. “What did you say?”

“I don’t think
one can go hungry here,” Caballa said. “Fruit in plenty, fish -
what?”

Torrullin
strode for the nearest hill.

“What now?”
Tristan sighed.

Elianas
threaded hands through his hair and ended with a cheek rubbing. “We
cannot be here.”

“Well, we
are,” Lowen said.

“I meant we
cannot stay here. The Syllvan obviously brought us because it is a
convenient gathering area for them, but we must leave.” Elianas
looked over his shoulder at the diminishing form. “More precisely,
he must leave.”

“What does
that mean, Elianas?” Caballa frowned.

The man
shrugged and headed for the stream to drink. He washed his face and
then sat staring at himself in the water.

Nemisin’s
son-in-law. What a farce. He made his wife’s life a living hell,
and still Nemisin welcomed him every time. And why? Because Nemisin
relished the power, and because of the link to Torrullin. His
daughter had not mattered.

Muttering a
curse, he rose to rejoin the others. “How long have we been
here?”

“All in all,
we reckon about six hours,” Caballa replied. “Is this dangerous to
him, or what?”

“No, it is not
like that.”

“Then what?”
Lowen demanded.

“This is off
the Path of Shades.”

“So?” Tristan
frowned.

“He has no
power here. None of us will have, but - gods, how to explain? He
did not choose to come, thus power was relinquished unknowingly,
and he will call to it. It will come, it always does, and then
there will be no more Place of Peace.”

“He will
destroy it,” Caballa said. “Simply by being here.”

“And the
universe will be the poorer.”

“How do we
leave?”

“A Walker
needs no power to find the veil. He is looking now.”

As they waited
they told Elianas what the Syllvan revealed.

At the end of
the telling he smiled. “Excellent. It was worth it, then.”

Caballa smiled
also. More and more she liked the dark man. “Quite a few wrinkles
have been smoothed out, by the sounds of it. Rose’s appreciation
took on form.”

Elianas
grinned at her. “Despite claims, we do hark to the familiar.”

“That is not a
bad thing,” Tristan murmured.

“This time I
wholeheartedly agree,” Elianas sighed.

Torrullin
returned. “There is no visible portal. It appears we shall be
leaving through the Syllvan grotto.” He pulled a face. “You do not
get to pass without answering a few questions.”

Quilla
murmured, “We have been through worse recently.”

“You do not
know the Syllvan,” Torrullin muttered.

“Torrullin,
sit a few minutes and listen to news from beyond,” Caballa ordered.
“And, both of you, eat first.”

He gave a
grin, sat, and as they ate fruit he heard the tale as Elianas heard
it. He, too, smiled at the end of it. “I wonder who Tian married?”
He winked at Tristan.

Tristan
laughed. “He always said he would marry Vanar’s daughter. The two
of them grew up together, always in each other’s hair, until he
thought himself a man and started spending more time with us. Her
name is Aislinn. I really wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Aislinn? I
met her once. A precocious child.”

“A perfect
match,” Tristan laughed.

“True,”
Torrullin grinned. “I wonder how much time we are talking, though -
years, decades?” Then, “Are you all right with him being
Vallorin?”

“Yes, and
Teroux will be as well.”

“Good, then
all is well.”