The Sleeper Sword (48 page)

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Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #apocalyptic, #apocalyptic fantasy, #paranomal, #realm travel, #dark adult fantasy

BOOK: The Sleeper Sword
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The average
Valarian attained a degree of acceptance of the new order, largely
due to glowing reports, exceptional footage, professional and
objective interviews emanating from Menllik’s media centre direct
into their homes. Torrullin’s promised exclusive interview with
Anton was a sensational success, the man’s calm bearing and beauty
winning many hearts.

While
Valarians reserved final judgement, the term ‘Valleur’ was no
longer spat out, and Anton became an overnight celebrity. Many
humans came to Menllik out of curiosity, out of compassion, some
altruistic, some sincerely there to help and know, and all found
welcome, and it too was good.

Torrke, the
Keep, hummed with activity and voices as in the past, and filled
with treasures. Comfort returned to empty chambers and halls, the
mosaic pool glittered emerald in the sun and much laughter rang off
the walls.

Underneath,
under friendship and welcome, a monster seethed biding time with
ever-greater impatience.

The Enchanter
smiled and conversed with all who sought him out, had a kind word
for the lowliest visitor, but steadily he grew in fury.

A dam was
about to burst, and from it would flood annihilation.

 

 

Quilla read
the signs with growing alarm.

As he headed
for the battlements he wondered if it had already reached that
stage. He exited the tower stairs and found the man nearby, leaning
over the parapet where he thought to find him. A moment’s
hesitation, for speaking up would be confrontational, and then he
stepped forward.

Torrullin
issued a smile of welcome. While not forced, it was not sincere and
it vanished when Quilla did not respond. His lips tightened.

“Save it,
Quilla.”

“I am saying
it,” the birdman responded, placing small hands on the weathered
stone of the low wall - he could barely see over it.

Ignoring the
flush of anger next to him, he said, “Your concern for Saska drives
you crazy. The fact Margus has not returned after a month fills you
with uncertainty. Either he fled your influence or the task you set
him is harder than expected. Fay vanished without a trace and you
suspect foul play. Tannil accuses you of waiting too long to react.
The fact that there are, to all intents, two leaders in this Keep,
drives a wedge between you and your grandson, even if both pretend
otherwise. Tymall’s silence stifles. All these factors warp your
mind, but the worst is you feel powerless. You dare not act first,
for you are afraid of consequence to Saska, and now Fay. However -
and this is why I am here - you fast reach that point where action
is preferable to incessant waiting. Torrullin, my friend, I ask you
wait a little longer; you need to care when you act.”

Response was
not immediate. “I care now. If I wait, I may lose it. I do not
suspect foul play where Fay is concerned. I suspect she has her own
agenda against me.”

Quilla looked
his way, astonished. “Good Goddess, why?”

A shrug. “I
made a mistake with her. I was harsh and judgemental, and with
someone as strong as she is, it could only rebound. She cannot take
criticism well, cannot look around another’s mistake, and cannot
turn from self-judgement. She found me lacking, as I did her, and
while I now know I was wrong, she cannot retract. She vanished
purposefully, perhaps only to come to terms with the fact she is
the lone soul who doesn’t think the sun shines from my behind … and
perhaps hopes to find a way to hurt me as she believes I hurt
her.”

“The webs we
weave can be trying. You and your big mouth.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Have you
spoken of this with Tannil?”

“Of course
not.”

“He would
probably go off the deep end, granted, but it would also ease his
mind.”

“A similar
reasoning to what brought you here.”

Quilla did not
reply immediately and when he did, it was by way of another
subject. “Why do you not speak of the realm you entered in
death?”

“You now seek
the parallel to teach me to curb my impatience, Q’li’qa’mz.”

The birdman
inclined his head. “Guilty. If there is one - is there?”

Torrullin
turned from the view to rest with folded arms on the low wall. He
looked down at Quilla.

“There is no
parallel. At no time did I feel powerless or uncertain. I was the
manipulator to a large degree, even where circumstances and
situations came as a surprise. I never needed to go off the deep
end, as you put it, and the only time I was destructive was when
the result of that destruction was, in fact, to the good of all.
Destroyer was not in control at any time, and the resultant
transformation more than nullified the inherent evil in
murder.”

“Murder?”

Torrullin
grimaced. “That is why I say nothing. I don’t require a
psychological profile of events now better left in the past.”

“Very well, I
won’t push, but consider this, there was nobody there you cared
enough about to spare from pain when you did whatever …”

“Wrong. There
were many innocents, and one man in particular. One can make a
lasting connection in a matter of days.”

“I know.”

“Tial was his
name, a good man, a leader who deserved freedom from
oppression.”

“And you
curtailed destruction to a place where harm to innocents would be
negligible?”

“Naturally.
Ah, your parallel. Now I am reminded to gift the innocents of this
world the same forethought.” Torrullin laughed. “You’re good,
Q’li’qa’mz.”

“All I ask is
you think before you act.”

“Fine, I
promise to give patience another nudge, for now.”

Quilla smiled
and then was serious. “About Fay …”

“I’ll speak to
Tannil.”

“Of course you
will. It’s not that. She is a danger to all of us out there alone
without protection. The danger lies in Tymall finding a Valla on
her own, one who may bear you a greater grudge than you
suspect.”

“I would not
think treachery lies in her nature.”

“Maybe she
won’t know the difference.”

A long
silence. “I must find her then.”

 

Chapter
47

 

Penitent: I
seek an answer.

Priest: Ask
first the right question.

~ Excerpt from
Lowly Life
by Jon Tor of Xen III

 

 

The two
entered the courtyard to find Declan there.

“I have news,”
he stated without preamble. “Private.”

“Follow me.”
Torrullin turned and headed back up the stairs and Declan
followed.

Quilla
hesitated a moment and then left them to it.

The Enchanter
went to his study, closing the door once the Siric was inside.

Declan said,
“Before you ask - the Guardians are scattered battling darklings on
many fronts. No battle is long and the critters withdraw before
we’re able to inflict harm. On the upside, the harm they cause is
bearable. They tease us, keeping us too busy to track them to
base.”

“Where Tymall
is ensconced.”

“Our reasoning
also. That’s not why I’m here. I came about Margus.”

At last.
Torrullin headed to the informal bar counter.

“Drink?”

“That would be
good,” Declan murmured and flung into a padded armchair before the
wide expanse of Torrullin’s desk.

The surface
was uncluttered; but for a closed volume to the right of where he
would sit. Unlike the past, when it was strewn with papers and
books, writing materials and other odds and ends.

Accepting a
glass of wine, Declan remarked on it. “Your desk is pretty
clear.”

“I’m not
Vallorin anymore,” Torrullin said as he took his seat behind the
desk. “Tannil has a study next door now and his desk looks far
worse than mine ever did. I do not envy him the frustration.”

“You don’t
miss it?”

“Being
Vallorin? Lord, no. I get now how Vannis was able to walk away.
But, to your news.”

Declan sipped
from his glass and then twirled it between his fingers. “Margus
joined with us a fortnight back and fought darklings. He mentioned
he was tasked to find Tymall, and he reasoned also where the
darklings go, there’s the one he seeks. The rationale behind
inveigling himself with us. A number of confrontations later and he
too was frustrated by his inability to chase them far. Until
yesterday. They took him, Torrullin, and we thought you should
know.”

“The darklings
captured him?”

“I believe he
made it easy for them.”

“Imprisonment
will bring me no closer to Tymall.”

“We were able
to track his signature for a time.”

“And?”

“Like to the
darkling signature, it dissipated in a powerful masking. We
ascertained a general direction only and even that could be a false
trail.”

“You
investigated.”

“And came up
with nine somewhat dicey planets.”

“Tell me
where.”

“Forgive me,
no. It would be a foolish gesture on your part. Tymall is too
sharp; he could capture you or you would allow yourself to be
captured.”

“Then I would
know first-hand my wife is safe.”

Declan
frowned. “What has Saska to do with this?”

“Tymall has
her.”

“Gods! That’s
unfair on her and what a clever move. It curtails you.”

Torrullin
grimaced.

Declan blinked
his colourless eyes. “If I may take you on a hypothetical journey?”
When Torrullin nodded, he lunged ahead. “If I were to put myself in
Tymall’s shoes, I wouldn’t harm her. She is my leverage …”

“He may not
harm her physically, but you have to admit to psychological
intrusion,” Torrullin snapped, sick of hearing Saska was probably
fine.

“No doubt, but
you underestimate the lovely Saska. As your wife she lived in your
shadow and later your sons superseded her place in your affections
- I mean no offence, but let us speak plainly. I’d wager there’s
much you don’t know about her and, in any event, the twenty-six,
-seven, years you had together were years of turmoil each. I knew
her for centuries before you made your appearance and have since
had fair contact over the last two millennia …”

“I get the
point.”

“I’m
sorry.”

“I was lax in
important areas, particularly those closest to me.”

“Unfortunately
that’s the penalty paid as leader. Yours is no precedent, I assure
you - ask Tannil. To return to your wife; she is brave and she
never turns from a fight, no matter what form it comes in. And
allow me to add this, the sheer immensity of the renewals she
affected as the Lady of Life prepares her for Tymall as little else
could. Imagine, if you will, a struggle, an all-out war in some
instances, to recall life to sterility. Can we comprehend the
strength of will that entails, we who deal in death? While she may
have suffered a form of disappointment, she still achieved it.”

Declan eyed
him directly. “That woman has will such as you and I can’t
comprehend and I doubt we have it in us, truthfully. Torrullin,
she’ll resist him, she’ll probably overcome him, psychologically
and emotionally, but will do so carefully, very aware of the danger
to her physical self. She told me not long ago, when she meets you
again, she wants to stand before you not only as an equal, but as a
winner.”

Torrullin
looked away and Declan decided to shut his mouth. As an equal. Did
he do such disservice to her?

Declan drew
breath. “Leave her to battle him in her way. Margus will be a
distraction now that aids her. This is your battleground, not his;
use it to your advantage. Do not fall under the spell of his
prepared fields.”

“She will
think I have deserted her.”

“She will be
praying you stay away, can you not see that? Every moment you wait
here, you not only strengthen your position, but hers.” Declan rose
and shuffled his wings. “You’re more than I, Enchanter, but I’ve
been about this confrontation crap a very long time. Please trust
me.”

“He will
eventually harm her.”

“As last
resort. Until then he gains more by toying with your emotions. If
you do not push, he is forced to hold.”

“Very well.
Investigate those nine worlds.”

“We’ll
persevere and when we know someone will come.”

Torrullin rose
and managed a grin. “I wonder what impact Margus will have. He’s a
slippery fish, that one.”

“You haven’t
decided to love him?”

Torrullin drew
breath and then said it, “The Darak Or is useful to me at present,
but I have not forgotten or forgiven his transgressions.”

“As I
thought.”

“You alone,
then.”

“You forget
the Siric and Murs once lived as one race. We know of
symbiosis.”

“Buthos didn’t
see it.”

“Buthos hated.
The rest of us tolerated.”

“Ah.”

Declan sighed.
“Yes, you understand him.”

“How did
Margus conduct himself?”

“He was
different. I’ll admit I almost liked him, and he can sure fight
like a devil.”

“Never forget
that,” Torrullin said. “He will never change. Like him, but never
trust him.”

“You trust him
to find your son.”

“He is bound
to me. I won’t elaborate.”

Declan
shrugged and then, “I must go back, but before I go I need to tell
you of Lazar.”

“He told me,
including how you had him up against a wall for daring to ask
penetrating questions.” An introspective smile. “Strange to think
only minutes have passed back there, they’re probably still
discussing the doorway’s closure.”

“You sealed
the passage between realms?”

“I had no
choice.”

“You changed
the nature of things, Enchanter.”

“Did I? Well,
so be it, yes? Too late for regrets.”

“Was it
difficult?”

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