The Nemisin Star (51 page)

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Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #fantasy, #dark fantasy, #epic fantasy, #paranomal, #realm travel

BOOK: The Nemisin Star
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Torrullin gave
his wife what she asked. “Two thousand years.”

She paled and
grabbed at her throat, and he pulled her into his arms and held
her. Over her head he said, “Leave.” The shock was so intense that
nobody moved. “Leave!”

Wordless, the
study was emptied, the walking gait of automatons.

Chapter
46

 

What is the
alternative?

~ Lament

 

 

The Keep

 


I
t is
too long,” Vannis said to Tristamil in a private corner of the
dining chamber, while Lowen and Quilla saw to the brewing of tea
elsewhere.

“Agreed.”

“We must force
his hand. A host, Tris, one a few months from birth. That would
give him the time in the etheric and an entrance back to us.”

“He would have
to be convinced.”

Vannis
frowned, “Therein lays our problem.”

“You could
make him see,” Tristamil said, strangely intent.

Vannis
understood. “All gods. Mitrill. Is she pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Vannis
whistled. “That was brave of you, boy.”

“No,
desperate.”

“Obviously
your father has no idea, although he suspects your motive for
marrying.”

“He knows
exactly what I plan, Vannis. He merely doesn’t know his host is
ready.”

“Gods, no
wonder he is off her. Does she know why she is pregnant?”

“No.”

Vannis
whistled again. “Mighty brave, Tris, and really foolish.”

Tristamil’s
eyes turned inward. “Whatever.”

“How were you
planning to present this to your father?”

Tristamil
laughed wryly and shrugged.

“Ah. So you
need me.”

“Glad to have
you aboard.”

“I am not sure
I am, but the only way to get at him is via temptation. He must
want to come back quickly and he must know absolutely that the
child will be the host. Even the Enchanter can be tempted.”

“What do you
suggest?”

“Saska.”

“Ah, the
relationship must be fixed.”

“Yes, and she
can do it, even if it means lying.”

“She doesn’t
lie.”

“For Torrullin
she would.”

“And when do
we tell him about the host?”

“At the last
minute.”

Tristamil
pondered. “That is risky.”

“Tell him too
soon and he will have the reasons in place to turn away from
it.”

Tristamil
nodded. Yes, that sounded like his father. “And if it works Vannis,
and he comes through into the newborn? How long before he is again
Torrullin?”

“He is a
Walker, Tris. He may simply need to use the child as a portal and
separate into his own form immediately, or he may lie dormant until
the child grows up to be a man of thirty-four.”

“Is the first
likely?”

“Very.”

Tristamil
said, “That would be good all round.”

“You have not
thought it through, have you? Not that I blame you. In fact I
admire your guts, young man. Remember this; a Walker probably does
not need a host and nothing we do would help then.”

“What is this
Walker business?”

“One able to
wander all realms, both those of the dead and the living, and all
the grey areas between. The might of Reaume. It is a legend, or
was, and that legend stated only that a true deathless being could
attempt it and succeed. There have been pointers along the way,
hints here and there, and once I even heard him call himself one. I
did not want to believe.”

“Why?”

“It is a
different state, one none of us will fathom. Your father already
has a dual nature and this intensifies it, even explains it, and it
means he is on the shadow road always.”

“What does
that mean?”

“Tris, you
hope your father will turn to the Light, and I have hoped that in
my secret heart as well. The Light, I thought, would gift him peace
somewhere in the future, but that is not to be. How do you hold the
Light when time,
time,
will disprove its veracity to him?
The shadow path is the best he can hope for.”

“Gods, you
fathom him.”

“Aaru, no,”
Vannis grinned. He was serious again. “He never took on the
responsibility of a Walker before. The man who returns may be so
unlike your father that you may recognise him only by his
face.”

Tristamil
understood something. “Saska.”

“Yes. He is
aware of the likelihood of complete change and drives her away
now.”

“Then how does
she convince him?”

Vannis
shrugged, “Lies.”

“We are going
in circles.”

“But we have
good intentions. We must make the most of what is given us.”

“Tempt him, in
case? The odds are no longer good.”

“They never
were.”

“I cannot
afford to retreat.”

“Then
don’t.”

“Who will
speak to Saska?”

Vannis smiled
wryly. “I will do it.”

“And if we
fail?”

“Then, my boy,
we wait the two millennia.”

 

 

Saska
extricated herself and took his face in her hands. “I could lie to
you, I could manipulate, I could beg, prostrate myself and nothing
will change.”

“I must do
this.”

“Why? Besides
Margus, why?”

He took her
hands from his face and held them against his chest. “I could give
you altruism, the terror of evil, and platitudes, but you would
know I side-step. I want to go, Saska. I want to change.”

“Selfish
reasons.”

“Yes.”

“What about
us?”

“There can be
no us.”

“Then why do I
love you?”

“It will not
be enough in the future.”

“Why not?”

“I will not be
the same.”

“After two
thousand years I won’t be the same either.”

He inclined
his head, adding, “There will be greater disparities.”

She drew her
hands away. “Riddles.”

“In truth, I
don’t really know, but I cannot ask you to wait for a maybe.”

“A maybe will
suffice.”

“I can lie,
manipulate, I can beg, prostrate myself and it would change
nothing.”

She reached
for him. “Just come back, my love, and then we take it a day at a
time.”

He stroked her
hair and held her close. His eyes closed, but it was not Saska he
saw there behind his lids.

It was
Lowen.

Would two
thousand years be long enough to get away from her?

 

 

“Quilla, what
about my father?” Lowen asked, drinking tea at the big table.

“You will be
reunited with him shortly, my dear. I shall speak to Torrullin once
he and Saska…” Quilla paused, choosing silence instead.

“They will be
all right.”

“I hope so,
little one. He needs a clearer conscience than the one he has now
for what is to come.”

“He is
stronger than his conscience.”

The birdman
stared at her. “Yes, I always thought that.”

“Then let him
be.”

“He is like a
son to me.”

“And you are
the only one he trusts. He will come back to you.”

“And thus we
shall go on.”

She grinned.
“Yes. And I am to see my father.”

He grinned
too. “As soon as it can be arranged.”

 

 

Quilla
returned Lowen to the Lifesource Temple, placing her in the able
care of Cat and Skye.

Neither
answered questions and Lowen took herself straight to bed to sleep
dreamless well into the morning.

Tristamil did
not know whether Vannis spoke to Saska, or would yet; all he knew
for certain was that his father paced the remainder of the night
hours on the silent battlements, a shadowy figure sometimes seen
from the courtyard, visible occasionally to a son keeping the vigil
with him.

In the morning
Torrullin faced an even more arduous task. It had to be done, for
the path had been set.

Again destiny
stalked him, as it had so often in the past.

Chapter
47

 

This is just
creepy, boy! Everyone is bonkers! We must make ourselves very small
now, hear?

~ Tattle’s
Blunt Adventures

 

 

Menllik

 

M
orning
found Torrullin in Menllik facing the Valleur.

On the steps
of Linir he revealed the import of the vision, but did not specify
his part in the disaster. He then commanded them to follow Quilla
into the west.

The
Vallorinship was not democratic, but the Valleur were not mere
sheep to blindly follow. Not when they were to the last man and
woman of like mind, and not when they loved their Vallorin and
would, therefore, not desert him. They denied his command.

Pig-headed,
as I always say,
Quilla thought.

Torrullin was
helpless in the face of such determination, and also proud. Still,
they had to listen. He shouted, he cajoled, he threatened, he
begged, and they were firm. They would not leave him to fight
alone. There was not one among them of different mind. It was a
wall of intention, and could prove unbreakable. He could not allow
that.

Help,
Quilla.

Oh no, this is
your people. Stubborn bunch, like their Vallorin. You deal with
them.

There was only
one factor now that would sway them. Thus he told them the whole
truth, leaving nothing unsaid. Everything.

By the time he
was done the silence was another wall.

Torrullin
suffered that silence and then added from his heart, “I love you
and need to know you will be safe after I am gone. Valleur, this is
the only way, for I simply cannot sacrifice more lives to this
Darak Or - not yours and not one more human life either. Margus
believes he will do his worst, but he gives us a gift. Torrke is
not what we are and
I
am not who we are. We are this
wonderful solidarity you present right now, in this place where
stars meet, this absolute will the Golden possess. I ask that you
employ that will to keep who we are alive for all who follow.
Valleur, they
must
follow; our future children should not be
damned this day by obstinacy.” He inhaled and released. “Please, go
into the west and be all that you can be.”

Caballa
responded first. “We shall do as you ask, my Lord Vallorin, if you
promise to return to us.” She spoke first, for a seer’s words could
be followed without guilt.

Torrullin drew
another breath and nodded. “I promise.”

Kismet spoke
next. He was, true to form, being more practical. “Tristamil and
Mitrill must accompany us.”

“Very well.”
If I am able to get him to listen.

“What of
radiation, my Lord?” Kismet asked. Thinking ahead.

“There will
not be any. It is a nuclear result without the poisoned
aftermath.”

The Elder
pondered, “What of the Throne?”

Torrullin
smiled for the first time. “We speak here of the Valleur Throne;
what do you think?”

Kismet and
Caballa both smiled at the same time. “It would take some digging!”
Kismet murmured a beat later.

Torrullin was
again serious. “Perhaps not. Le Moss Mar Dalrish will be among you
soon and may have the science to restore Torrke to what it is now.
Between him, Saska and Tris, it is possible the seat will be
accessible.”

“Can this
Dalrish be trusted?” Caballa queried. “We have heard he is a crime
lord.”

“I have not
met the man, Caballa, but I do know his status is an unfortunate
result of tragic circumstances. A crime lord however is still a
criminal, but I shall say this, I do trust his daughter and his
cousin. If this man is anything like Matt, you may safely place
your lives in his hands.”

Silence again.
A nation stared at its ruler and a ruler attempted to imprint every
face into memory.

A female voice
from among the gathered asked, “How soon will you leave us, Lord
Vallorin?”

He had not
expected it to be this hard. “Days … two, three …” He closed his
eyes.

“We love you
too, my Lord,” a gruff voice was heard.

“We shall miss
you,” another said.

Many murmurs
filled the air and Quilla retreated with alacrity to wipe at wet
eyes.

Torrullin
discovered his cheeks, too, were awash. “It is not easy to say
goodbye and we cannot permit due pomp and laughter to ease the way
for us. This is therefore the final time we are to see each other.
I request that you leave the continent by sunset and do not look
back.”

It will undo
me.

 

 

It wrenched
witnessing his people leave in inconspicuous groups of three, five,
eight, after filing past him, holding only what they could
carry.

It was a
silent tribute, given and received. It would be recorded in Valleur
annals as a time of great sorrow.

Torrullin
stood on the steps of Linir, alone, feeling the pull of antiquity.
This was where Nemisin’s star made the connection between what was
and what will be.

Quilla went
ahead with the majority of the Elders to prepare initial arrival
sites, and Vannis - who once had to do this - stayed away,
understanding this was one separation that could only be borne
alone. He had to wait nine thousand years to take his place again,
a fact not forgotten by those taking their leave. How long before
this Vallorin returned to them?

It was
finished by sunset and Menllik became a true ghost town. It could
be months, years even, before the sound of happy footsteps filled
the waiting silence. As the sun dipped below the horizon, it felt
as if the Light went as well. The city’s heart was missing; its
Light had moved on.

Elsewhere
on Valaris this happens as well,
Torrullin mused.
The Light
delves into hidden corners, but not to illuminate those spaces, to
hide there afraid of the Dark. I am the Dark. How misguided Abdiah
was when she said I would bring the Light.

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