Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 4

  “Well, it concerns Sanctuary. People say you are preparing an army here.”

  Torrullin lifted his brows. “Let them sniff around, then, and go away appeased.”

  “Yes, but they say you are using the Kaval and this mythical army to make the universe yours.”

  “A far-fetched notion, don’t you think?”

  “You want to make the Valleur as before, rulers over all, and in particular there is to be three kingdoms,” Tristan added.

  “Ah. One for each of you?”

  Teroux nodded.

  “Untrue.”

  “Rumour may be believed,” Tianoman murmured.

  Torrullin poured three glasses of wine, handed them over and then poured himself one thoughtfully. “And if rumour is to be believed, you think someone may conceive of another force, a foil for mine. I see your reasoning, but it would …”

  He stilled. Then his glass smashed upon the stone floor. Red wine sought the furrows between the stone paving.

  “Why the rock, layers of texture and colour, like time built on time, if not to point the way … but backwards. Backwards, by god.”

  The three Valla cousins stared at him.

  He ignored them. “An ancient threat or one long foretold … and she found it. Go back to the source. Sanctuary is built on ancient foundations, on singing stones.” He rose and paced away. “An army to meet an army, the stones foretold.”

  He stared at the three without seeing them. “Three kingdoms inundated on this world. Who would know that? Lowen, after unravelling the mystery, and one who sees as she does … or is an Ancient.”

  Torrullin sat and stared intently at Tristan. “Tell me everything you know, even who you heard it from.”

  Chapter 5

  The man knelt before the altar, looking at the stones his knees rested on. I ask you, friend, how can anyone know what is in this man’s mind? Penitence? Or is his a liar’s action?

  ~ Arc, poet

  The Dome

  THE DRAGON OGIVE chimed.

  The Kaval straightened. Elixir had been long absent from the Dome.

  He strode in. “Belun!”

  “Yes, my Lord?”

  “Seal the ogives immediately.”

  “Gods,” the Centuar muttered to himself and did as bid. He moved away from the dais as Torrullin headed to it.

  “Is everyone here?” Elixir demanded, and passed his hands over the blinking lights of the dais. It sought recognition from Elixir as others once sought recognition from it.

  “All currently present,” Fuma, the Deorc Immortal, murmured.

  “Why is that?” Torrullin frowned at Jonas, in charge of assignments.

  “We have an interlude in effect, m-my Lord,” Jonas stammered in reply.

  “Ah, and I do not believe in coincidence .Very well, take seats. I have new assignments for each of you.”

  Seats were found at the semi-circular conference slab.

  “I have unsettling news. Lowen has vanished without a trace, but before she did she managed to send a clue as to her whereabouts. This is not personal, Kaval, understand that.” He stared at them and, satisfied, continued. “Further to her disappearance, unpalatable rumours have come to my attention. I believe the two are linked.”

  He gave an account of the rumours and briefly related what he knew of Lowen.

  His Kaval did not see a connection.

  A mirthless smile followed. “They are linked, trust me. This is what I need you to do, and we shall confer again in one week. Jonas, hit the computers and whomever you deem worthy of information for facts on rock strata. Geologically. How much time does it involve to lay down sediment, and how does it happen? Fuma, you and Amunti are to backtrack the rumour. We need the source or take us as far back as you can. Declan, you have to find Agnimus …”

  “Excuse me? You think that creature has something to do with this?” the Siric asked.

  “He is an Ancient. I want to hear what he knows.”

  “It will not be easy,” Declan warned.

  “Do what you must. You have one week. Quilla, you are charged with singing stones.”

  A light went off in the Q’lin’la’s mind. “Ah, I begin to discern the connection.”

  “Good,” Torrullin responded. “Ignatius, we need the full history of Sanctuary. Prima, uncover unfulfilled prophecies regarding the meeting of two like armies.”

  Prima paled. “My Lord, there are thousands of those.”

  “Select those referring to three kingdoms and stones. Shenendo, I need anything, anything, you can find on the Luvans of Grinwallin. Galarth, information on worlds inundated in ancient times. Erin, religious theory on time-shifts - not portals between realities, but time travel. Chaim, sniff around for resistance cells. We are trying to ferret out the possibility of an army building in secret and it may at this time be limited to small units, and may also be widespread.”

  “It will be done,” the old man murmured.

  Torrullin drew breath and looked at Belun, Dome leader. “Belun, take the Dome to Sanctuary and float her on Lake Averis.”

  “What?” Belun hurtled to his feet and he was not alone in his utter astonishment.

  “Bait, my friend,” Torrullin said.

  “Gods, Torrullin, the Dome has never been through atmosphere.”

  “It has never been in the region of a planet,” Declan added. “It may not withstand the rigours.”

  “It will withstand,” Torrullin responded. “Set the parameters to make it so, with necessary protection. Belun, you know this magical device inside-out; I trust you can do this.”

  “Why, for pity’s sake?”

  Torrullin bent over the dais and sighed. “A hazy instinct. Somehow Sanctuary and Dome must become linked, but to facilitate what exactly, I do not yet know. Hopefully, in one week, we shall understand. Belun, agreed?”

  “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

  “Where are you going, Torrullin?” Quilla demanded.

  “Grinwallin. Teighlar knows something.”

  “The singing stones link these matters, do they not?” Quilla enquired.

  “Perhaps.”

  “Are the Valla heirs safe?” Declan enquired. He was once charged with their safety, but that duty moved into the hands of the Elders when Tianoman left his teenage years.

  “Yes. They know nothing and I suspect they think I am mad, the way I suddenly spoke of stones and layers,” Torrullin grinned. “They will be fine, but I have alerted the council of Elders.”

  “Are we to meet in the Dome on Sanctuary?” Jonas asked.

  “If I can get it down in a week,” Belun muttered.

  “You realise, of course, the rumour mongers will see a symbiosis of Dome and planet as proof of threat?” Amunti said.

  Belun grimaced. “Ah, the bait. Hell.”

  “It may be mere rumour,” Fuma murmured.

  “Then we shall rest easy in one week,” Torrullin returned.

  “Where do you think Lowen is, my Lord Elixir?” Erin asked.

  “I think Lowen has stepped back through time.”

  A loaded silence ensued.

  “I suspect if I step back as Elixir, I may place her in danger,” Torrullin added.

  “How?” Declan asked.

  “Stepping back could alter the present. We could get around it, but can Lowen? Talk to me about time shifts, Erin, and a choice may then be made.”

  “Understood,” she said and there was sympathy in her tone.

  “My Lord, I don’t have a task,” Jimini called out.

  “Your task is with me,” Torrullin responded. “I need your particular talents to infiltrate … places.”

  Jimini was a shapeshifter. She grinned her delight.

  “That is all. No word to another about this. Belun, unseal.”

  The Centuar did so and one after the other the Kaval left, until only Belun and Jimini were within.

  “Torrullin, what’s going on?” Belun asked.

  “I am not sure,
but foreboding bites. Will you cope with the Dome?”

  Belun smiled. “Somehow.”

  Torrullin clasped his shoulder and then said to the shapeshifter, “You leave masked in my signature, so nobody knows I have you up my sleeve.”

  “You have no signature, my Lord.”

  Torrullin grinned. “Then you won’t either, hmm? Shall we?”

  Valaris

  “HE WAS CRAZY.”

  Tianoman sat with his head in his hands and ignored the brandy Tristan offered.

  “He virtually threw us out, too.”

  “Stop acting like a spoilt child,” Teroux muttered. “Something we said tied into something he tried to figure out, that’s all. And he did apologise.”

  Tristan dumped the snifter on the table beside Tianoman, and moved off to stand before the window. His cousins continued bickering behind him, but he ignored them. They were again ensconced in his private suite, and the weather on Valaris was worse than the weather on Sanctuary.

  His grandfather, a blood connection made simpler using that term, remained an enigma.

  Torrullin, the man who was both Lifegiver and Destroyer, and proved both in the past. The Enchanter, the Dome Dragon, nemesis to the Valleur Dragon, and Elixir. Walker of Realms, Master of Reaume. Torrullin, the One.

  No wonder he shut himself away. No wonder his marriage failed and no wonder Lowen, the only other true immortal in the entire universe, left him. He barely lived with himself; how could others hope to do so?

  Yet he, Tristan, felt an intrinsic connection to the enigma. Today he was physically Torrullin’s arrested age, or as near as, and there was the uncanny likeness they shared.

  “Tristan!” Teroux called out.

  “What?”

  “Where are you, man? I’ve called you three times.”

  “What is it?”

  “Tian and I think we should go to Grinwallin, talk to Teighlar.”

  Tristan swung around. “Why?”

  “Teighlar sees our grandfather on a regular basis; he may shed light on what happened today,” Tianoman said.

  “Bad idea.”

  “You’re a real ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Teroux muttered.

  “Teroux, think. If he wanted us to know, he would’ve told us. Some crazy plot is a-foot and we gave him a piece of the puzzle, but that’s it. There is greater danger around than we know of. Teighlar won’t tell us anything, for he sides with Torrullin.”

  “You call him Torrullin now?” Tianoman muttered.

  “Yes, well, I last saw him ten years … ha, ten years. I wonder if my Coming-of-Age had anything to do with Lowen walking out? Remember how strange he was that day? Happy to be at the Keep, yet tightly controlled?”

  Tianoman shrugged. “I was fourteen, cousin, and more interested in the Electan’s daughter.”

  Teroux threw Tianoman a grin and added, “I only remember getting really pissed.”

  “Fat help, you two,” Tristan said. “Where do you stuff your wits most of the time?”

  Tianoman gestured eloquently at his crotch, which sent Teroux into peals of laughter.

  Gods. Kids. Tristan swung away.

  He would call his grandfather Torrullin, yes, for it felt strange to call a man who appeared a brother in age ‘Grandfather’. Torrullin rarely called Vannis that and even more rarely called Taranis ‘Father’. When longevity slowed the aging process markedly and immortality arrested it entirely, names were the real connections, not familial status.

  Names set one free. With startling insight Tristan realised how true it was, and how true it would prove for The Valla. His was a pedestal of titles and expectations - even suspicion - and the titles of family added to that. Calling him by his name would release the pressure.

  Tristan smiled. Yes, understanding certainly helped.

  He understood something else also.

  The other two fell silent, seeing in his expression a different resolve.

  “What have you thought of?” Teroux asked.

  “The three of us together must find someone,” Tristan murmured.

  “Who? Lowen?” Tianoman queried. “He wouldn’t thank us, I think?” His voice was uncertain and the statement ended as a question.

  “No, not Lowen,” Teroux said. “Saska.”

  Tristan shook his head. “Caballa.”

  Astonished silence greeted that.

  “A remarkable seer, a personal friend and an Elder.” Tristan faced his cousins with resolution. “She helped him in the past; she could help him now.”

  “You think he needs help?” Tianoman said.

  “I know he needs help,” Tristan said, and paced forward to sit with them, leaning forward. “Listen, this is what we need do …”

  BY NIGHTFALL THEY put the first plan of action into motion.

  Tristan let it be known he would join his father for a week on their family farm and was not to be disturbed. The council of Elders concurred, sympathising with him in his grief.

  Teroux long expressed a wish to enact a play on the stage and let it be known he would be at the Academia of Truth on Luvanor for a few days to research the stores of ancient plays in the archives there. He hoped to announce the forthcoming production at Tianoman’s Coming-of-Age. The Elders raised brows, but did not attempt to dissuade him.

  Tianoman was harder. He was not considered an adult and was therefore not permitted full freedom of decision, and he had not expressed personal hobbies that could now be used as a smokescreen. His known talent lay in chasing the ladies … and, laughing so hard they were doubled over, the three cousins decided to use it.

  Tianoman and Teroux put on a show in Menllik, one which had Tianoman hiding behind his cousin from an over ambitious lady and an irate father, and the Elders were horrified. Teroux suggested his cousin accompany him to Luvanor until the proverbial settled. A relieved council gave indecently swift permission.

  All three had motive to absent from their duties, but leaving to locations other than those specified would arouse suspicion and they would be brought back.

  Until a Vallorin was chosen, not one was free to move around.

  BY MORNING THE second plan of action went into motion.

  They required a diversion sufficiently riveting to hold the Elders’ attention, and in that inattention all three would abscond to Luvanor, Teroux and Tianoman enveloping Tristan in their signature. They would not, however, go to the Academia and would barely touch earth there before moving on. They could be followed, but it was hoped absence was adequately prepared for.

  Fire was a good diversion, but did not feel right. Natural disasters were great, but none were in the offing and causing one was irresponsible. A fight was not good enough and using offworlders to spark a political incident would be stupid.

  Tianoman found the perfect diversion, one which had Tristan and Teroux burying wariness before he could see it. He suggested the collapse of a sacred site, and knew how to do so. It would wholly engage the Elders … hell, it would engage all Valleur.

  After a moment of shock, Tristan and Teroux agreed.

  IN THE MORNING the Three Gates started acting strangely. They decided to use the Gates because they were islands and nobody would be injured. How he did it the others did not question and, when it happened, they were forced to turn their backs on the result.

  They went to Luvanor, touching earth in the Wilderness, and then went elsewhere.

  The Elders were unaware.

  Chapter 6

  Do not attempt to inhabit another’s skin.

  ~ Book of Sages

  Sanctuary

  JIMINI WAS A SHAPESHIFTER.

  It meant she could take on the guise of another that included voice, tone and personality. She could take on forms of the imagination, including animals, useful in frightening off intruders in her past. Humanoid guises she could maintain for extended periods without it sapping much energy, but imaginative guises were briefly held. It had to do with biology, she once explained to the Kaval. As she
was of the human form, with generally common organs and brain function, shifting into another shape was akin to a glamour.

  Torrullin decided she was vital to his ferreting expedition and asked her to take on Lowen’s appearance for their meeting with Teighlar. While not comfortable with having to fool his friend, he hoped to shock a reaction from the Senlu.

  Jimini could not duplicate Lowen’s aura and Teighlar had a nose like a bloodhound when it came to etheric signatures. Torrullin would therefore mask her and explain it away as precaution against threat to Lowen’s life. Jimini stood before him in his bedchamber on Sanctuary wearing Lowen’s discarded clothes. It was uncanny and he had to force reaction for the immortal underneath the guise, not to the form she represented.

  “Perfect,” he managed.

  “Are you all right, my Lord?”

  Lowen’s voice. Lowen’s incredible blue eyes, her dark, silky hair. “It is a shock, I admit. I will be fine. Now, Jimini, I am Torrullin to Lowen, not ‘my Lord’. She uses that only when she seeks to … well, never mind. Stick to Torrullin.”

  “I won’t fail, I promise.”

  He studied at her a moment longer, feeling the terrible desire for the Xenian seer churn in his gut, and then forced himself to turn away.

  “TORRULLIN, I …” Her voice petered off.

  He folded away clothes. “Something wrong?”

  “Um … no.” She went to the full mirror.

  Jimini, as herself, was an attractive woman with chestnut hair and eyes, a rounder figure than Lowen, and shorter. She seemed human, until one touched her. There the parallel ended, for Jimini had a cold, clammy and hairless skin, almost white in its pastiness. Her heart, soul and mind, however, were no different from that of a hot-blooded woman, and she adored Elixir … as a woman.

  She stared at herself, saw what he saw, wondered, and pushed the notion aside.

  “What is it, Jimini?”

  “Just checking,” she said brightly. “A thought, however. I’m not sure how warm I should make her skin.”