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Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #dark fantasy, #time travel, #shamanism, #swords and sorcery, #realm travel

The Echolone Mine (64 page)

BOOK: The Echolone Mine
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“My god.”

“He had lost
control on reality. I covered it up, the death I discovered him at,
but there was a witness, and there was a witness the next night
when he did it again. It spiralled out of control. Within a month
Kalgaia was a city of ghosts. Elianas, insane by then, wanted to
take his vengeance to the Lorin also, and I knew it had to
stop.

“I took recall
from him, for I had seen a future where we were forgiven and
together as brothers. He came to view the fate of Kalgaia as my
betrayal. Anger and hate drove us then, and it spilled into the
planes. We fought and as we fought we grew wings …”

Tristan stared
at Torrullin.

“… great
shadow wings, a sign of the darkness within. In some worlds on some
planes in the spaces we are Shadow Wings. This, Tristan, is a
greater accusation than Darak Or. There were periods when calm
prevailed, thank the gods, and then we saw beyond pain and
suffering and lies. In cycle four, this one, we entered another
such period and chose to use Kalgaia to frighten Nemisin, but using
horror to manipulate has intensified the inner struggle. We were
cursed anew, but we had already cursed ourselves. We went into
hiding, until now.”

Tristan sat
up, wordless.

Torrullin
closed his tunic as the sun moved on. “Last night Teighlar took us
into a Luvan cave to the Goddess of Souls. To us it was simply the
‘line’. Last night’s events were too close on the heels of Elianas
remembering the truth of betrayal. He was already furious. It also
came on the heels of speaking about the Danae. And Lowen had
reminded us of Shadow Wings. We were ripe for renewed battle. We
have scores to settle and the period of calm is now sundered. Last
night, in this reality, our wings were spread - it has never been
seen in this realm. Whether we like it or not, we must enter Lethe,
because it is an opportunity to fight together before we fight each
other.”

“Torrullin,
explain the line.”

Torrullin
clambered to his feet, kicking bare toes at leaves.

“Beyond
magician lies sorcerer and beyond is enchanter. There the Goddess
of Souls steps in. She is the gathering of knowledgeable souls, and
together they are like a river of pure light preventing equal
powers colluding to become gods. It is a boundary, for beyond it
lays terrible strength. Even lumin power dare not make a pact with
another lumin to cross over, for Light joined would blind all
eyes.

“Yet, and this
is the potency, the Goddess can be crossed, and nothing can prevent
what lies beyond. There is massive agony to overcome, but even that
ceases if will is strong. The line exists only for men, Tristan,
and is crossed during sex.” He paused to shrug at Tristan’s stony
expression. “It is the physical path - briefly two can become one.”
He paced away, his voice hoarse. “There is a way to cross the line
as brothers of the soul, but this must absolutely be the choice.
Crossing as brothers is harder to achieve.”

“You want to
cross as brothers?”

“That has
always been my goal.”

“He seeks
continuance of this situation?”

“At this
point, and thus there is no unity.”

Tristan stood
and stretched. “Did you attempt to cross the line last night?”

“We brought it
out and tested how far the possibility of unity goes, and
discovered it beyond reach.”

Tristan paced
away, and it became an angry stalk before he came to a halt
again.

“I don’t get
how this happened to you. I see how time has been a burden, but not
this. I remember when I was ten how you spoke to me about dreams on
the castle battlements. I remember how calm you were, how … whole.
There was no sense of this turmoil radiating from you now. Where is
that man? How did he allow this?”

“I recently
returned from the Hounding, and released guilt. I was calm.”

“But you
didn’t release all guilt, did you? You hadn’t remembered the longer
past. And if that larger guilt was with you then, you proved above
it. You were whole, Torrullin, and now you are not. You told me how
you love him, and that is beautiful, but why this baggage?”

“The simple
answer is Elianas. The man himself. He is the reason there is
turmoil, guilt, fracturing, attraction, power, desire, shadow
wings, evil, light, nobility, a line, a purpose, a clouded future,
a past, war, taunting and brinkmanship.”

“You are not
explaining why.”

“I am not
going to.” Torrullin crossed his arms. “I have told you more about
my past than I have another, and have broken the enchanter’s law in
revealing the line, and now I ask you to help me, but I am not
going to tell you why Elianas is important to me, not the real
reasons, or why I do not turn my back on him. If you need that
understanding as qualification of aid …”

“Of course
not.”

“Then let it
rest. All you need understand now is that you must keep us apart
physically and stand as conscience to temper the excesses of war.”
He smiled without guile. “Can you do that, please?”

Tristan
laughed. “Try and stop me. I am intrigued.”

 

 

Elianas had
coffee brewing.

As they
entered the kitchen, Torrullin asked, “How much did you hear?”

Elianas
flicked an upward glance. “Most of it. You left things out.”

“Naturally.”

“I wish you
answered the why question.” A laugh. “You knew I was there.
Damn.”

Torrullin
laughed as well and said to Tristan, “I’m off to have a shower
before we return to Grinwallin.” He inclined his head towards
Elianas and left.

Tristan
understood he was to pick at Elianas now. The thought did not sit
well.

Elianas put
two mugs on the counter. “I will not add anything, so forget
it.”

Tristan
shrugged and accepted a mug. With murmured thanks, he left the
kitchen to wander around the dwelling that was part mountain and
part man. He wandered into the atrium and then beyond into the
natural garden until he came to a stone bench. There he sat;
sipping the brew and watching the sun go down an Avaelyn.

As expected,
Elianas was not long in joining him.

They sat a
time in silence before Elianas said, “You look like him, yet I am
not remotely drawn to you in the manner you question. That should
prove it isn’t about appearance, but more about what is under the
surface. Unlike Torrullin, I do not regard it as a trap. I see it
as freedom.”

Tristan
finished his coffee and twisted on the bench to look at Elianas. He
did so openly, his gaze travelling the entire length of the
man.

Dark eyes
smiled into his. “You are wondering where the allure is.”

“No, I see
that. There is no denying how you look.”

A blink. “You
wonder then what it is like to touch a man.”

“I guess - not
that I want to touch you.”

“I wasn’t
about to offer. And it is about touching Torrullin, not a man.”

Tristan sighed
and looked away.

“I did not
understand either; until I did touch.” A faraway look settled into
the dark man’s eyes. “His blood sings loud and the melody ripples
in his skin. When you touch it, you hear it, you are part of the
song within.”

Tristan
swivelled back to him. “Power?”

“Magic.
Natural, unfettered and gloriously beautiful, entrancing,
altering.” He turned his gaze on Tristan; deep sadness lurked
there. “It is the music. In the end, in the very end of everything,
it is his music. He does not know, but when he understands, this
will be done at last.”

“My god,
Elianas.”

A ragged
breath. “Someone needed to know. You, because you know much else
now.”

The sun dipped
below the horizon and the chill of an autumn night was in the air.
“Elianas, I want you to touch me.”

“I am not
drawn to you. I doubt you have music.”

“Nevertheless.
Call it a control experiment.” Tristan undid the buttons on his
tunic and pulled it wide. “Will this do?”

Elianas
shifted to place one hand on Tristan’s stomach. His touch was warm
and he pressed down, closing his eyes to listen.

Then he
withdrew his hand and shifted so that his head dipped below the
bench’s backrest. He laid his cheek on Tristan’s stomach, and
Tristan felt a chill travel up his spine imagining Torrullin seeing
that vanishing head.

Elianas
straightened, grinning. “I heard that and it scared me too. Cover
up and relax. There is nothing to hear.”

“Thank
god.”

“By the way,
you feel completely different.”

“Why tell me
that?” Tristan buttoned up.

“Thought you
would like to know.”

Ah, Caballa.
“Yes, you’re right. Thank you.”

Elianas rose
and bowed his head. “He was right to bring you.”

He headed back
in and Tristan followed when the cold finally got to him.

 

 

When he entered
it was to find Torrullin dressed and armed.

“There you
are. Tris, come, we must get you ready.” With a jerk of his head he
indicated Tristan come with him and led the way from the library to
his bedchamber.

Tristan looked
around curiously. He wondered how Torrullin slept when winter
arrived; it had to get freezing in here. A noise caused him to look
beyond the arch in the far wall … ah, Elianas. Well. He followed
Torrullin into a dressing room.

“United front,
Tris, that is what we must project. I want you to dress as I
do.”

“No
problem.”

“Help
yourself, then, and join me in the library after.” Torrullin
left.

Elianas,
lounging in the doorway a few moments later, enlightened him. “He
expects resistance when we return to Grinwallin. Thus we are to
come sauntering in looking and acting like a team.”

The dark man
was in black, including gloves and cloak, and was likewise armed.
Sword, dagger, knife and probably a few other surprises.

“Are we a
team?”

“We must be,
and then we hope Torrullin and I do not lose sight of the real
target.” Elianas pushed away from the wall and entered. “Hurry -
tensions mount.” He eyed the array of clothes. “Be warm, yet able
to take off, we are not taking gear, and we will be moving fast.
How sharp is your sword?”

“Sharp.”
Tristan disrobed to pull Torrullin’s black clothes on. Within
minutes he was transformed.

Elianas stared
at him. “Remarkable. Now it is hard to tell you apart.”

Tristan
strapped his sword on again. “Caballa won’t like this.”

“Don’t say
much, is my advice. The more you say, the more anxious she will
be.” He tossed a cloak. “Go wash your face, Tristan; you are
tense.”

Elianas ambled
away leaving Tristan staring after him.

Ten minutes
later he joined Torrullin in the library. He was scrutinised. “How
sharp is your sword?”

Tristan,
amused, replied, “Sharp.”

“It’s not
funny.”

“Elianas asked
the same thing,” Tristan murmured by way of explanation.

“Ah. Come,
choose a dagger. Have you a knife?”

“One in each
boot.” Tristan closed in on the desk and noted the row of blades
displayed. “We’re going in armed.”

“We have not
been to Lethe, may as well be ready.”

“A gun would
be better.” Tristan lifted a dagger, then another.

“Guns do not
work in realms.”

Tristan was
astonished. “Really?”

“Yes, and
thank the gods. At least we will not find cannons and missiles
pointing at us.”

Tristan chose
a slim dagger and hooked it to his belt.

“Elianas!”
Torrullin hollered.

Elianas came
in and approached the table, looking down. “I see you have added to
your collection. An Aldari hooked knife? Nice. Rare?”

“Very. Do you
need anything?”

Elianas opened
his cloak eloquently and let go.

Torrullin
waved a hand and the daggers vanished. “Is the house secure?”

“Done.”

“Then one
thing left to do.” Torrullin pulled a dagger from his belt and
raised it to his head. He gripped a handful of hair.

Elianas caught
his wrist. “What do you want to do that for? You always get pissed
off when you hack at your hair. Why take it off? To draw attention
to yourself?”

“I sincerely
hope you mean attention in Lethe.”

“Yes, I mean
Lethe.”

“Valleur
traditionally shave their heads before battle,” Tristan murmured.
“I will do it, too.”

Elianas did
not even look at him. Staring at Torrullin, he said, “Leave your
hair. I like your hair.”

Torrullin
pulled away. “You are taking yours off, too.” He put the knife
up.

“No fucking
way.” Elianas passed a hand over the straight smoothness of his
dark hair. “This face was not meant for the shaven look.”

The knife
froze in Torrullin’s hand and then he loosed a snort. “Vanity,
Elianas?”

The man
crossed his arms. “Absolutely.”

Torrullin’s
knife hand dropped and he doubled over in laughter. “You are
priceless!”

Elianas winked
at Tristan. “Let me be vain for you. Just leave the hair.”

Torrullin
straightened, swallowing his mirth. His eyes glittered. He replaced
the dagger at his belt. “I like your hair, too.”

Elianas
grinned. “I know.”

Tristan drew
breath. “Listen, wait. I feel singularly unprepared, hair or not,
armed and dressed to look the part notwithstanding. You two have
spent hours figuring strategy. At no time today have I given
thought to the fact I might be fighting for my life soon. I am
stumbling over my feet here and, damn it, I’m hungry.”

Both men
stared at him and then Elianas laughed. Torrullin said, “You are
right and I am sorry.”

Elianas paced
forward. “Let us get out of here and go eat and talk somewhere else
- an interlude. I could use the downtime myself.”

BOOK: The Echolone Mine
10.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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