The Nemesis Blade (67 page)

“How?” Elianas
muttered.

“And where
to?” Torrullin added.

Stumped, they
sat on the cool sand to think.

After a time
Elianas removed his boots, rolled his breeches to his knees and
wandered in the surf, his face pensive. Torrullin watched him,
unmoving. Every so often Elianas halted to stare over the ocean,
before walking again.

Torrullin
dragged his gaze away. He was in real trouble, he understood. There
were twists and turns to his past locked behind that noble profile,
and he could not get to it without admitting a dark truth to
himself. What that dark truth was, however, escaped him.

An hour
dragged by, and then Elianas kneeled beside him.

“Call
her.”

Torrullin
forced himself to meet that enigmatic gaze. “Why?”

“I have been
through every option and this is one that cannot do harm. Call her;
maybe she responds and maybe something changes here.”

“Does she know
you?” Torrullin’s eyes narrowed.

Elianas
frowned. “Of course not. I am like Neolone; I waited for you to
know me. No one else has a clue.”

Torrullin
nodded, inwardly relieved. “Fine, I will call her.”

Elianas licked
his lips. “Why do you sound reluctant?”

“Gods, why do
you think? I do not know what to say to her, how to react and, with
you here, I do not know how to feel.”

Elianas
laughed. “Tied in knots? Relax, Torrullin. To her I shall be a
friend and to you a brother, and that leaves you free to be
yourself. Call her and follow your instincts.”

Torrullin
faced the water, preferring action to even thinking about
instincts. Employing voice and thought, he called. “Lowen!”

Nothing
happened.

“Lowen!”

Nothing
happened.

“Gods, woman,
some help, please!” Torrullin shouted. “Anything! Send a bloody
huge wave … something …”

A huge wave
rose up from nowhere and Elianas and Torrullin fell to the beach,
fingers scrabbling in loose grit to hold on. The wave swept over
them, crashed up on the ridge and then receded, pulling the two men
off the sand into the ocean’s currents.

Surfacing with
a splutter, Elianas shouted at the head bobbing next to him.
“Bloody stupid man!”

Torrullin
started laughing. He smacked the hand with gleeful hands.

“I do not see
what you are happy about.”

“Watch, then.
Lowen! A boat would help!”

Lo! A boat
appeared on the ocean.

They clambered
in, both laughing. Elianas took one look and said, “You should have
qualified we need oars.”

“I should have
specified a sailing vessel.”

“Well, we are
drifting - feels south.”

Torrullin was
thoughtful after a moment. “How has she this kind of power?”

“Perhaps it is
not Lowen.” Elianas drew in a breath and released. “Torrullin, it
may not be Lowen’s call we now follow.”

Torrullin
watched the receding shore. A shiver of foreboding overcame
him.

“Someone took
her, and that someone could be luring you nearer,” Elianas
suggested, looking seaward.

“I am no longer certain she was taken,” Torrullin muttered.
“She was the catalyst to your release as she was for me to
recognise change. Maybe it was curiosity on her part and maybe she
does not understand the reasons, but she is the factor that led us
here deliberately. She was not taken, she was
placed
here.”

“Which still
implies an outside influence.”

“Maybe,”
Torrullin murmured.

A stiff breeze
brought shivers, but they were soon dry and then the moving air was
welcome in the heat. The boat rocked gently and definitely drifted
with purpose. They merely had to sit it out. How long was another
matter.

Torrullin
gestured at Elianas’ bare feet. “You left without your boots.”

The dark man
grinned. “It was a hurried departure.”

“Why are we
doing this?”

“The short
answer?”

“Give me the
complicated one,” Torrullin sighed.

“We are here
for different reasons,” Elianas said in an even tone. “We say it is
to right a wrong, for the echoes to spread out, for your heirs to
find peace in a wholesome universe, but it is mere excuse. We would
like to be charitable and altruistic, the benefactors of time, and
it is indeed a noble goal and, of course, Grinwallin is a threat,
one we hope to contain. Still, it is excuse. Grinwallin unleashed
means change, catastrophic change, and yet change will always have
merit. Grinwallin unleashed will bring on a new era, difference to
the long future ahead, but would it be bad? Sentience is good at
survival, evolution and adaptability; life would go on. Such change
could herald a new order of togetherness, as righting an ancient
wrong would.”

“Gods,”
Torrullin muttered.

“Exactly. Let us step aside from the great goals here and
speak of the truth of each individual.
We
are the reason we do this; us,
our souls, hearts, minds and the rest of it. Sentience is selfish,
and no one in this realm right now has ever risen above
selfishness.”

“True.”

Elianas
smiled. “I would possibly exclude Dechend. The Senlu Elder is a
good man and has no dark secrets requiring unlocking or
atonement.”

“Agreed. Then
why has he come?”

“For love of
his Emperor. His is the unselfish act and yet it may turn around on
him here. The Teighlar he will discover may not be the man he
presently reveres.”

“Poor
Dechend.”

“He is strong;
he will cope. Now Teighlar is awash with contrariness, much like
you. A facet of enchanters, true, but he also carries guilt. I am
aware, via the Throne, of his second chance, of Grinwallin’s
renewal, and I agree Teighlar is a great ruler, and what he did in
the past was not done in the spirit of evil, but he has not
forgiven himself.”

“Understandable.”

“Yes, but you
move on, Torrullin. You grab at a future; Teighlar is in
stasis.”

“It isn’t his
doing. Grinwallin holds him prisoner.”

“Choice
remains his,” Elianas murmured. “He could leave.”

“Grinwallin
will rebel. How can he cause more death and live with more guilt?
That is not choice.”

“And thus he
is in stasis, and it sours him. The only reality he had to hold
onto was the might of Grinwallin, the genius of the Luvan royals,
the sacrifice made to raise a wondrous city, the singing of the
stones. It made him and his people unique; it made him benevolent
to intruders to Luvanor - his was a position of superior knowledge.
The might of Grinwallin remains, but it is not his might, and the
city is not his, is it? In effect, he has come to realise he is the
gaoler, the keeper, the janitor, and the slave and prisoner.”

“He comes to
recapture his heritage.”

“It puts him
in opposition to you. Grinwallin is yours, not his.”

Torrullin
frowned. “Rixile …”

“You left Rixile there, Torrullin, do you not understand
yet?
You
did it.
To jog your memory and, failing that, to return your awareness of
the city and what it hides. The dragon symbol was placed by your
hand in that cavern, to point the way, and it was done when
Grinwallin was in your imagination.” Elianas drew in a hefty
breath. “I tell no lie, I swear. The void was visited many times
and we often discussed how to protect it. You and I, brother, on
the brink.”

A flash seared
into Torrullin’s mind. “We once came close to jumping in.”

“You
remember.” Elianas’ voice shook.

“But I had a
vision of a new time,” Torrullin whispered, “and chose to accept
it. I had to forcibly restrain you. You believed you would lose
me.”

“I did for a
long time.”

Torrullin’s
gaze was stark. “How could I reincarnate six times and not see
this?”

Elianas’ gaze
was sad. “You went in ignorant and emerged too fast. No time to
gain insight.”

“Who was born
to Millanu? Is she my mother?”

“Yes.”

“How?”
Torrullin cried out.

Elianas was
sombre. “That is the moment your sentience entered, have no doubt.
Millanu is your mother and Taranis is your father. You are Ancient,
because that was not the first entry and it may not be the last.
You are not reincarnate through your parents; you close the circle
and reopen it at that point.” Elianas leaned forward. “Every time
you hope you will make new choices.”

“How many
circles? Have I made new choices?”

Elianas chose
to answer the latter. “Yes, every time.”

“I do not
understand.”

“It is beyond
even you, that understanding. It simply is.”

“Do they know?
Taranis and Millanu?”

“No one knows.
For them time is linear. The exceptions are those of us who were
there with you. Quilla came in the last cycle, as did Sabian, and
Teighlar found the connection a little later. You have known Sabian
in another form, but Teighlar and Quilla entered your orbit at the
points you are aware of. They, however, retain the years between
and could soon put certain truths together.”

Torrullin
blinked. “Such as?”

“Who Torrullin
was, is and will be.”

Silence
settled in for a few beats. “And you, Elianas?”

“I am a mite
different. Telling you now, tells too much.”

Torrullin
stared over the ocean and then, “Tell me then why the others have
come.”

“Saska is here
for you, and seeks a way to negate Lowen.”

“She has not a
hope now.”

“What happened
with the Xenian woman was a product of grief, not anger. Saska did
not intentionally murder an unborn child; she merely could not
cope. No one coped well. You must let it go.”

“I cannot
understand you. Why drive me back to her?”

“You are the
one who does not understand. I would be insane already if I marked
every woman you slept with, every child you fathered and every wife
you loved. Between us lies the thought, the idea, the danger, the
twisting knife of a relationship that has not come to pass, and
will not. It is enough that we know. I am not jealous of Saska or
Lowen. You and I would make what we have ordinary if we slept
together.”

Torrullin’s
eyes glittered. “You lie.”

Elianas looked
away. “And you push too hard.” Eventually Elianas took up his
narrative again. “Caballa had a vision she cannot ignore. She is
also caught between what she had and what she wants. This dilemma
has more to do with the return of her sight than uncertainty. Had
she remained blind she would already be in Tristan’s arms; seeing
him and seeing you has confused her.”

“That makes
sense,” Torrullin nodded.

“Quilla is
self-evident. He is a creature of prophecy and, without doubt, has
a few to see fulfilled about this. The one unearthed in Titania has
added impetus to his curiosity. I am not saying curiosity drives
him, but it is a factor. Quilla will ever be insatiable for
knowledge.”

Torrullin
smiled.

Elianas
continued. “Rose? A child and a woman, one who has been hurt in a
manner you and I cannot understand. She is both innocent and wise,
wants to be a better person and also the worst kind. She seeks to
find herself. Teroux is taken with her and may even change her.”
Elianas paused. “As for Teroux. He is a follower, not a leader. Had
the Throne made proper choice, it would not be Teroux.”

“Which means
Tianoman will be Vallorin, given Tristan’s choice.”

“Probably.”

“What is
Teroux doing here?”

“Following,
Torrullin. You commanded and he obeyed.”

“What is he
looking for?”

“He has little
ambition,” Elianas shrugged. “Perhaps that changes here.”

“Tian?”

“A hothead, a
rebel, one who would be a great Vallorin if properly tempered.
Tianoman needs to see himself as an adult and this journey will
certainly gift him greater maturity.”

“You read
people well,” Torrullin remarked.

“I watched and
listened a long time.”

“When I called
the Throne, was I calling you?”

Elianas
smiled.

“Thought so,”
Torrullin murmured. “You spoke to me out of turn also.”

“There were a
few occasions when it felt as if you would surrender to despair.
Support was all I could offer.”

“Elianas, I
dreamed you, heard you, saw you, before I knew any of this. It was
not support, brother; it confused the hell out of me.”

“That was not
my intention.” Another beat went by, and then Elianas went on,
“Maple is easy. He wants to be rid of Digilan.”

“And
Sabian?”

“Exactly as he
says. Immortality.”

“Was I a true
Immortal in other cycles?”

“No, but death
closed in a few times. I assume you opted to put that temptation
beyond reach in the present cycle.”

“Assume?”
Torrullin snorted.

“What goes on
in that head of yours remains a mystery even to me.” Elianas
laughed. “What goes on in my head remains a mystery to you.”

“What of
Declan?” Torrullin prompted, smiling.

“A true soul.
I cannot read him. Then there is Tristan, isn’t there? Tristan and
Immortality.”

Torrullin
nodded. “The Ritual will demand strength of purpose from him, and
that he receives here.”

“Did you
know?”

Torrullin
barked a laugh. “Not the faintest suspicion.”

“How do you
feel about it?”

“Proud.
Relieved.”

Elianas understood. A grandson who would not now die when his
time was up. For Torrullin it signified a tangible future, someone
to go through time with. “Will he succeed? I believe so. One member
of this team will attain goal,” Elianas smiled. Silence and then he
murmured, “That leaves us. Why are
we
doing this?” Elianas laughed. “I
am not yet ready.”