The Nemesis Blade (80 page)

Elianas said,
“You should touch him.”

Torrullin
glanced at Elianas and then back at Tristan. “Give me your
hand.”

Tristan
extended it, and Torrullin gripped firmly. Trebac sparked.

“You are
right,” Torrullin murmured to Elianas.

“Of
course.”

Torrullin
released and met Tristan’s eyes. Grey stared into grey. “You are
immortal.”

A hissed
breath, shock, and then, slowly, a smile. “Really? The void?”

“Stripped
bare, all of us,” Torrullin said, “and put back together. You were
a step away and the step was taken in the void.”

“Goddess, that
was a mighty Ritual,” Tristan breathed and then whooped out loud.
He gripped Caballa, kissed her soundly, and then laughed. “Done!
Gods, it is done!”

“We take it
you are happy,” Quilla murmured.

“Yes! Heart
and head both wanted this.”

Torrullin
sighed. Right. And there was no turning back. He looked away … into
Lowen’s eyes. He found the same sadness there.

Yes, immortal
… until the undying years began to add up.

Chapter 61

No, idiot, a
cave is not just a cave! Smell the mites! Did you smell that in the
other one? Idiot.

~ Tattle’s
Blunt Adventures

Syllvan
Grotto

A
n hour later the six stood before
the Syllvan in their grotto of stalactites and
stalagmites.

As always the
light shone from within those deposits, creating an eerie rosy
atmosphere. Torrullin had asked for entry and it was granted. Like
to Elianas, the Syllvan understood the danger to the Place of
Peace.

One spoke, the
one roughly in the centre, which Torrullin always thought of as
leader, although the Syllvan regarded themselves as equal in
status.

It said, “We
shall put one question to each of you, and permit one question from
each of you.”

“Rather hasty
this time, not so?” Torrullin murmured.

“Is that a
real question, Elixir?” the same Syllvan demanded.

“If you want
it to be.”

“No. You are
not to escape that easily.”

A laugh. A
sigh. Gods. Haste or not, this would be bad. “Fine. Allow me,
however, to thank you on behalf of all of us for removing us from
the void.”

“It would have
ended naturally, but then too much time would pass in reality for
you to return and retain equanimity. And it was our pleasure.”

Torrullin
bowed.

“Q’li’qa’mz,”
the Syllvan on the far right began, “as Ancient you have
experienced the pull of your home universe. Has this left?”

Quilla bowed.
“It has left and I am relieved.”

“Caballa,”
another said. “Has your vision of Tristan changed?”

She gaped at
him. “I don’t know.”

“Then look,
seer, and when you have seen, tell him everything.”

She nodded and
moved closer to Tristan.

“Tristan,
longevity and immortality are poles apart. You cannot have
children, you cannot count on those you love being in your future,
and even your personality will now begin transformation. Were you
to have a final opportunity to reverse your new immortality, would
you take that opening?”

This
penetrating question came from a Syllvan on the left.

Tristan did
not hesitate. “No.”

“We wish you a
smooth road, Tristan Skyler Valla,” another Syllvan murmured.

Tristan bowed.
“Thank you.”

“Lowen, you
are known to us and will ever be welcome,” the central tree trunk
said. “We have decided to present you with a gift. Many times you
have been unselfish in your choices and we feel it is your
due.”

She stared at
the Gatekeeper, heart hammering.

“You must
answer yes or no immediately,” the Syllvan continued. “Yes or no,
will you accept the gift of death?”

Lowen
paled.

“Yes or no?
Now!”

“Yes!” she
blurted.

Torrullin was
ashen.

Elianas’ lips
thinned.

“Death has
been granted. Choice or circumstance will determine your crossing
over,” another Syllvan intoned. He sounded pleased.

“Lowen?”
Torrullin said.

She did not
look at him; in fact, she could barely move.

“Aaru,” Quilla
murmured.

The central
one added, “One says no to death, another yes. Is that not the
contradiction of time?”

“How dare
you?” Torrullin growled.

“Is that a
serious question, Elixir?”

“Yes.”

“We dare
because we understand. Tristan denied it, for he is young. Lowen
accepted because the years are heavy now. It does not mean she
wants to die; she seeks the choice and now possesses it. Tell me,
Elixir, Master of Reaume, if we were to gift you the same, would
you accept or deny, knowing what you know, being who you are?”

Torrullin
froze in position. “If you offer, only then shall I answer.”

Elianas’ hair
swung like a curtain. “You cannot, you must not.”

The Syllvan
were silent. Trunk heads leaned as they communicated.

Then, “We make
the offer. You may have death if you so choose.”

Elianas
gripped Torrullin, hauled him about. “Don’t you dare!”

Torrullin
smiled. “And leave you? Never.”

“Elianas may
have it also.”

Both men
jerked back to the Syllvan.

Quilla prayed.
Take it, take it,
please take it.

Tristan closed
his eyes, perhaps realising immortality could be as much a curse as
it was a gift.

Lowen stared
at Torrullin, but saw only Elianas from where she stood. Elianas,
pale, distressed … and then terrible in his resolve.

“I do not want
it, but I thank you.” Elianas, breathing deeply, did not again look
at Torrullin.

Torrullin
turned only his head. First he looked at Lowen and then he looked
at Elianas. His gaze revealed nothing, and yet it was clear, when
he spoke, he would be speaking a choice that went deeper than
death.

Quilla held
his breath and Tristan stared at the ground.

Caballa
sighed.

Torrullin was
given time to choose. He would not choose with instinct. No, he
would choose with all the mad places in his mind, heart and soul. A
truer choice.

Then he spoke.
“Death lies not in my future.”

Elianas did
not move; not by a flicker did he betray whatever he felt, but
Lowen laughed. “So that’s it?” She drew breath. “You begin to pay
today, Torrullin. Mark me.”

“So be it,”
Torrullin said. “Again we dance, blue eyes.”

Contrarily,
Lowen smiled.

The Syllvan
sighed as a group and along with them Quilla.

The central
trunk said, “You are now permitted one question each.”

“Mine is
simple,” Quilla murmured. “Has the prophecy of the Three Kingdoms
been fulfilled?”

“Almost.
Emperor Teighlar must acknowledge Elixir as High King.”

Torrullin
snorted a laugh. “Bang goes the prophecy.”

Tristan asked,
“Does the void require continued protection?”

“It is
appeased at present and Grinwallin has been separated from it, but,
yes, it requires watching. New measures must be put in place within
the next thousand years.”

Elianas asked,
“Is Kalgaia whole?”

“She is whole,
Eternal Companion.”

Elianas
smiled.

Lowen asked,
“Is there an end?”

Silence and
then, “When the universes cease expanding many ends will come, but
not even we can say when that is.”

Caballa asked,
“Who invented time?”

A wheezing
laugh. “We all did. Anyone who can reason creates time in some
fashion.”

Then they
waited on Torrullin. He deliberated a while, and then, “Is heart’s
desire wish or will?”

“What kind of
question is that?” Lowen demanded.

Elianas’ hair
slowly covered his profile.

“It is neither
and it is both. And as the answer is unsatisfactory, thus is
heart’s desire never quite satisfied. Heart’s desire never stands
alone.”

“Thank you,”
Torrullin said, and bowed. The others followed suit.

The Syllvan
bowed in their manner. “Speak your destination and you will find
yourself there.”

Caballa and
Tristan stood together. “Valaris.”

A chuckle.
“Where on Valaris?”

“The
Vallorin’s home,” Tristan grinned. A moment later they vanished
together.

Quilla said,
“I require a time of meditation. Please return me to the Lifesource
Temple.” He was gone.

Lowen looked
at the two remaining with her. “Do we go together or apart?”

“Apart,”
Torrullin said and looked at the Syllvan. “You know where I want to
go.” He was immediately on his way.

Elianas
ignored Lowen. “Mariner Island.” Elianas was gone.

Lowen snapped,
“Right on his arse.”

The Syllvan
laughed and then she was absent also.

The grotto
dimmed and the Syllvan slipped into a period of hibernation.

Chapter 62

History is
subjective.

~ Truth

Sanctuary

A
cold wind howled around the
cottage on Mariner Island and Lowen shivered when she prodded
Elianas from behind as he unlocked the door.

“I thought you
would come.” He opened, entered, leaving the door ajar for her.

“Whose place
is this?” she asked, closing the cold wind out.

“Whose do you
think?” He snapped his fingers to ignite the wood in the
hearth.

“Ah. Nice. A
bit basic, a bit wild, but nice.” She wandered around and then
halted at a window. “Fantastic view.”

“What do you
want?”

“You. Your
head on a platter. I know what you did to him and what he did to
you. You are even. Now go away and leave him in peace.”

“He does not
want peace.” Elianas extended his hands to the fire.

“Elianas
…”

“Lowen.” He rose. “Now listen to me. I am not a pretty boy he
has dragged through time to have a plaything nearby. I am
Enchanter, Eternal Companion, and I
am
his brother. Not merely in heart,
but by Valla connection. My daughter married his son.”

She slumped
into a chair. “I didn’t know.”

“There is much
you do not know. A vision cannot do justice to the fullness of
time, nor does a view of the curve impart detail.”

“A daughter? A
son?”

“I was
married, Lowen, and I did sleep with my wife. She bore two
daughters, and one fell in love with Torrullin’s son. He was not
married, nor was the woman of import to time, but fact remains it
happened. Nemisin was most displeased and exiled them, and we
became comrades-in-arms then, too. Our children lived on, were
generally happy, and died as mortals do. Fortunately they were
childless or Nemisin would have hounded our grandchildren also,
particularly after Kalgaia. Do not presume to ask me to leave;
there is too much history between us.”

“Enchanter?”

“The regret
after Kalgaia took us off darak’s road and into the Shadows, where
Enchanters are born.”

Lowen got up
to wander around. “You were his apprentice.”

“Yes, when
young. A boy who showed talent, taken to Lord Sorcerer for
training. I was of good family; a good match for Nemisin’s
daughter, a marriage decided when we were too young to even
remember each other’s names, and a sorcerer as son-in-law? I could
supplant Torrullin eventually; I could also be an ally in the
enemy’s domain.”

“And?”

“I adored him.
He was fair, strong, beautiful, uncaring, wild, talented. He
listened and he taught without reservation. I came of age, got
married and begged the privilege to continue my studies. Nemisin
happily obliged. His number one ally.” Elianas sounded bitter.

“And your
wife?”

“We saw each
other regularly enough.”

“And?”

“What ‘and’
are you referring to?”

“I am not
blind.”

Elianas gave a
wry chuckle. “Actually, you are.”

“What?” She
glared at him.

“We spent huge
amounts of time together doing something that took real will and
motivation. We were close, and then Nemisin started pushing at me
to spy. I told him and it brought us closer. Later, there were our
kids.”

“You’re saying
it’s all very platonic. A family connection, brothers-in-arms,
fellow sorcerers - please, spare me.”

Lowen wandered
through to the kitchen, found a kettle for the hearth and brought
it back filled with water. She hung it from the hook to heat and
went back to the kitchen and busied herself finding coffee
makings.

“Somewhere
along the line you chose immortality,” she called out.

Elianas leaned
in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Yes.”

“How did that
happen?”

Elianas
remained silent.

She turned,
two mugs in hand. Pointing at him, she said, “Please tell me. I
think you know why I did it; I would like to hear your story.”

Elianas sighed
and pushed away from the jamb to head for the cupboard. He took a
jar of coffee out, sugar. Then he leaned on the counter, away from
her.

“I found him
one night and he was thoroughly mad. Made no sense. I had been to
court to see Nemisin and my wife and when I returned it was dark,
storming, and it was cold. Gods, it was so cold. Torrullin had been
drinking and he was railing against his fates. He saw me and
shouted about years being too long, the road was lonely and that no
one cared, no one knew, no one saw. Of course I asked and he told
me everything. I believed him, but I also realised he never would
have said anything had he not lost control. It was his first cycle,
you see, and he had not yet discovered understanding.”