The raft bucked towards it and then it was in - Rose screamed - and they fell, holding onto anything, everything.
They went under, jerked about, and then the raft’s airtight containers shot them to the surface and beyond, and they smashed back down. Spines compressed, and Saska bit through her lip. Rose sobbed.
Her sobbing was loud.
Deafening.
They were in a gigantic cavern and the water was as still as a fishpond on a hot summer’s day. The water was clear, cool blue and far up the glows of sunset could be discerned.
The outside world, now unreachable.
“Hush, Rose,” Teroux murmured. “We made it.” His murmur reverberated around the massive space and plinked upon the water.
“For fuck’s sake, you could’ve warned us,” Torrullin snapped at Teighlar.
The Emperor merely shrugged.
Torrullin’s voice echoed about three, four, five times before dying away.
Quilla, tinier in drenched state, touched Torrullin on the arm and pointed. To the left a flat shelf beckoned safety.
He nodded and took an oar from Elianas and they paddled towards and bumped against it.
Sabian jumped off with the mooring rope; a huge iron ring was cemented into the shelf. He tied off, saying, “Someone used to come here often.”
“Not me,” Teighlar muttered. He clambered off, and helped Rose and Saska.
“Luvans,” Dechend informed. “This gauntlet was run down to the exit at the ocean in the east. Quite a few bones lie in this water.”
“Crazy,” Teroux muttered. The echoes, mercifully, were now minimal.
“Are you all right?” Tristan murmured into Caballa’s ear. She nodded as he helped her rise, and they left the raft together.
Torrullin threw the oar to the deck, climbed off and headed for Saska. “Let me see.” Her lip bled profusely.
She stood there mute without looking at him as he touched a finger to her lip to close the wound. Her eyes flicked up when his finger lingered there.
“I am sorry,” he whispered.
“For what? Truth?”
“Yes, for truth.” He removed his hand and moved away.
She nearly bit through her lip again, furious with herself.
Torrullin collared Dechend. “How much of this?”
The Senlu Elder gave a rueful shrug. “I do not know, my Lord, but I would say it is pointless hauling out dry clothes.”
Teroux swore.
“It’s beautiful,” Rose breathed. She stood at the edge of the shelf gazing with rapt attention into the clear blue depths.
It was beautiful, of a kind unmarked by man’s influence. The water was alluring in colour and deceptive in stillness. The current had descended, and that kind of danger and contradiction was part of nature’s true beauty.
Teighlar was all business. “Secure those packs and then we must be off. We have a way to go.”
Rose glanced at him. No time for beauty, then. She moved off to Teroux’s side and watched him tie up the loose pack and check the others.
Torrullin wandered aside to stare into the distance, attempting to envision what lay ahead. He sensed Elianas come to rest beside him and felt a warm shoulder press to his. He did not move away.
“I did not expect this.”
Elianas laughed. “It gets worse. The abyss lays a few surprises ahead.”
“Can you see ahead?”
Another laugh. “That is one for the philosophers.”
Torrullin smiled. “The river, idiot.”
“No, I get distance and danger, but not form.”
“Likewise.”
A companionable silence followed, and then, “You say nothing about me to them.”
Torrullin shrugged. “They do not need to know at this time. It will confuse them.”
“And the women?”
“They won’t talk.”
Elianas changed the subject. “The heirs appear unfazed by the delay at the Throne.”
“Secretly relieved, I think.”
“Delay is a misnomer, isn’t it? It chose you. Again.”
“I cannot divide myself into these small pieces, Elianas.”
“I am aware of that. One day you must turn your back on most things to be one. I did.”
Torrullin looked at him. “And are you happy?”
A shrug, a wry lip twist. “Too early to tell.”
“Will you be there, or will I turn my back on you also?”
“Do you need me there?”
“I may.”
“Do you want me there?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will be there.”
Torrullin allowed his gaze to drift over the noble face beside him and was similarly touched. It was like to a lovers’ study.
Elianas’ eyes crinkled. “Not lovers. We are more than that. We enter each other in ways that will ever be beyond physical satisfaction.”
Torrullin offered an ironic smile. “Gods, how do I explain you to another?”
“As you said, it will only confuse them. Allow my actions to explain to them who I am.”
“You could prove my undoing.”
A soft laugh erupted. “Am I not thus named?”
“It does not frighten you?”
Elianas’ face stilled. “The only thing that frightens me is that I am unable to put you together again.”
Torrullin shivered. He looked away.
Elianas’ shoulder nudged briefly. “I shall have it figured out by then, if it even gets that far. There are no rules.”
“Torrullin! Elianas! Time to go!” Teighlar called out.
Looking searchingly at each other first, they then rejoined the others.
The raft was already loaded, with Sabian holding the loosened mooring rope on the shelf. He looked them over and gave a secretive smile. He tossed the rope and jumped aboard.
Elianas climbed on sedately, with Torrullin calm behind him. Neither made eye contact with another, simply retrieving oars and putting them to work.
Quilla glanced at Declan. Tristan looked at Caballa, who would not meet his eyes.
“Paddle to the centre and then we go on,” Teighlar murmured.
They went on.
THE WATER REMAINED TRANQUIL for the length of the cavern, lulling, with paddle strokes akin to music in the echoing silence.
It took over half an hour to traverse the calm expanse, but when crossed the temperament of the water altered again.
It was not as violent as before, for no tunnel bottlenecked the racing currents. Speed intensified and there was a mighty pull and suck at the oars, yet oars could be safely employed through grotto after grotto, large caves that were small in comparison to the mighty cavern. Each grotto was illuminated, sometimes from below - a property of the water - and sometimes from above. The latter was decidedly odd, for there were no holes in the mountain dome to the outside sky, and yet glows accompanied them.
“It is not science,” Teighlar murmured.
“It is the rock,” Quilla suggested.
They travelled in silence, awed by the sights, and used skill and muscle to navigate their way through. It was a winding route as the ancient watercourse made its long remembered bid for freedom through rock and stone and air older than itself, finding the outlets that eased the way, a route not always as easy on the travellers.
Grunts accompanied some strokes, curses marked others, and they went ever onward.
Dechend, at one point, remarked there was no turning back; the only escape lay in finishing.
Teighlar was ever more pensive, his face shuttering more and more as they struggled to maintain direction on contrary currents, until Torrullin said, his voice made hoarse by effort, “Do you hear them?”
Everyone looked at him, not sure whom he spoke to, but Teighlar was the one who answered.
“I hear them.”
“Many songs,” Elianas whispered.
“Many deaths,” Quilla said sadly. A moment later he frowned
. This Elianas heard? When only Ancients could hear?
“What?” Teroux questioned.
“Singing stone,” Tianoman said.
Tristan lifted a brow. “You seem to know much suddenly.”
Tianoman shrugged.
“The stones talk? I wish I could hear that,” Teroux sighed. “Always the ignorance.”
Torrullin murmured, “You must want to hear, Teroux.”
“I do, and hear nothing.”
“Then fear holds you back,” Teighlar remarked. “Release fear and you open the way.”
Dechend cleared his throat. “According to legend only the Luvan royals could hear the stones.” His tone held a thread of uncertainty.
“Not true,” Quilla murmured. He glanced at Elianas.
“The Luvan royals could communicate with the stones,” Torrullin said, “a talent that escaped the rest of us.”
Teighlar glanced at him. “Talk back?”
Torrullin did not look at him. “Yes, talk back, or shed blood when asked to.”
Elianas sighed.
Teighlar closed his mouth into a thin line before he could say more. Dechend did not know his Emperor was Luvan and that he was one also.
Dechend was the one who took it up. “Blood? Khunrath shed blood for Grinwallin.”
“Indeed,” Torrullin murmured. “You know Luvan history.”
Dechend stared at him. “Obviously you do as well, my Lord. How is that?”
“Titania,” Declan supplied.
“I am sorry?” The Elder appeared confused.
“The library of Titania contains most tales, even Luvan.”
Dechend gaped at him. “How? Luvanor was isolated then, as it is now.”
“The stones sing to each other,” Quilla murmured. “Those who heard, wrote it down.”
“Gods,” the Elder muttered, and lapsed into silence.
Declan shrugged in Torrullin’s direction as if to say it was of no use yet to reveal how much they knew, and how.
Sabian laughed to himself.
Quilla glared at the man, and so did Maple.
Ahead a jagged opening loomed and silence returned as they steered through. Another grotto greeted them, then another. They were wet, cold and hungry, and their biological clocks revealed the time for sleep had come and gone, and nowhere did a likely place to halt present.
They went on with grunts and sighs, and added now to the impetus of the journey was the search for such a place.
NOT LONG AFTER, THE current strengthened and the raft started to buck on the water.
“Must be a tunnel,” Teighlar said.
“Lift oars,” Torrullin said, and five oars pulled from the water.
Rose whimpered and Caballa comforted her.
A moment later the raft was grabbed by an invisible force and sent hurtling forward. Sound became thunderous.
There was no tunnel.
What there was, was a mighty drop, and they plummeted more than a hundred feet and submerged into incredible depths, twisted without recourse to control. This time the sheer pressure of the water from above held them under, the airtight containers too puny to hurtle back to surface and air.
Torrullin severed his rope first and in the froth of violence found Saska.
She untied herself, her legs transforming into a Sylmer tail, her lungs converting to cope with underwater breathing. She saw him, waved him off, and then headed for Caballa and Rose, the two women frantic in the depths.
Torrullin drew breath, watery breath. He possessed the added biology of the Valleur, the kind that could transform for alien environs, and always found he was unable to breathe water, until now. Cold water flooded his lungs; he choked, and then was able to function.
He kicked away strongly, saw Quilla sinking past him with staring eyes and grabbed at him, thrusting for the surface.
Declan was alongside, his wings shrunk to nubs, and had a hold of Sabian and Maple. Maple was unconscious and Sabian kicked desperately upward in time with the Siric.
They broke surface together. Sabian spluttered, and then struck out for calmer waters alone, with Declan pulling Maple along. Torrullin held Quilla clear and searched for Saska, finding her propelling Rose and Caballa away from the waterfall’s violence. He noted Teighlar swimming strongly away, aiding Tianoman.
Then Tristan popped up beside him and he handed Quilla over, pointing in the direction the others were headed.
Torrullin dived.
In the froth he saw a shadow. Dechend. He gripped the man and pushed him up. The Elder had sufficient reserve to find the surface.
Where was Teroux? And where was Elianas?
The raft was an ominous square of sharp death below, twisting around with malevolence. Teroux was still tied to it, struggling for freedom. Nearby Elianas attempted to dart in to help.
He kicked towards them. Elianas struggled for air, not yet aware of limitations to his new form, or his horizons. Torrullin collared him, pointed up, and then realised the man’s robes hampered movement. He held him, tore the clothes free and pushed him up with a mighty shove. The last he saw before he concentrated on Teroux was Elianas as a shadow vanishing into light.
Teroux had surrendered. He moved according to the whim of the raft and the pounding from above. Torrullin dived in.
The raft bashed against him, battered his arms and legs, but he ignored the onset of pain and grabbed at Teroux. Missing, he tried again, to snag a foot.
It was enough.
He hauled himself upward along Teroux’s leg, found the rope, severed it, and gripped. Praying, he struck for the surface.
They broke through. Elianas was there, waiting, and he helped drag Teroux to calmer water.
It was another cavern, although not as large as the first one, the water not as still. However, there was a similar shelf off to the right and they headed that way, as had the others.
Tristan and Tianoman took hold of Teroux, pulling him out, and then Teighlar helped Elianas. Torrullin clambered out and stood a moment to check.
Teroux, Quilla and Rose needed immediate attention and in that order.
He glanced at the shivering, almost naked Elianas. “Are you all right?”
“I will be. Help them.” Teeth chattered on a weak smile.
Torrullin bent to Teroux and laid hands on him. A moment later his grandson coughed up water, and Tristan took over. Next was Quilla, and then Rose. Quilla recovered well, but Rose started retching so much she required added healing. A moment after that she sobbed against his chest, and then Caballa took her.
“You need help?” he asked of her, but she shook her head, cradling Rose.
Saska sat nearby, also almost naked. Reverting to her Sylmer biology - an automatic response to immersion - she usually lost most of her clothes also. She wore a torn tunic and cupped her groin as she watched her legs reappear.
He knelt beside her, his heart crazy. By god, this strange mixture of vulnerability and strength was why he loved her, and wanted her. He cleared his throat and she looked at him, seeing his thoughts in his eyes.
“Let me bring clothes at least.”
She nodded, her gaze locked to his.
He tore his away and touched her legs. A replica of the dark breeches she wore earlier covered her. He cleared his throat again and made to move away. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist.
“Thank you.”
He gently squeeze her hand, smiled and moved on.
Rose’s big blue eyes followed him, and inwardly Caballa sighed.
Torrullin knelt beside Quilla, who shook his head. “I was not quick enough. Thank you, my friend.” Torrullin squeezed his shoulder and went to check on Teroux. His grandson did not use words; he embraced Torrullin.
“Hell of a drop,” Teighlar muttered.
“We can get the raft out.”
“I will do it; you have used up your reserves today.” Teighlar grinned at Teroux, winked at Torrullin, and stood on the edge of the shelf with one hand raised horizontally.
He made a fist, jerked his hand to him, and at the foot of the waterfall a dark square erupted, shot up and smashed back down, and trawled nearer.
Teroux clapped. It was the first time they saw Teighlar employ magic.
As the raft bumped against the shelf and was moored, packs hauled off, Torrullin went to Elianas. “Robes?” he asked, his gaze amused.
“It is a vanity I can ill afford now. Nearly drowned there. Dress me like to you.”
“Black?”
“Why not?”
Torrullin grinned. “I may find you irresistible.”
Elianas was serious and gazed deep into his eyes. “You already do.”
His heart flipped over for an instant. “True.”
It was, although he suspected they said different things. Torrullin ran his hands over Elianas’ goose bump arms, bringing forth black tunic and breeches the same as his own.
He looked him over. “Suits you.”
“It is my more usual wear, truthfully,” Elianas muttered. “The robes were about freedom, not identity.” He lifted a warm finger to Torrullin’s cheek. “Feel the heat? You did more than dress me, I think.”
Torrullin’s eyes hooded. “You are being obvious.”
The finger dropped away. “Generally I am more circumspect, but now I am obvious, yes, because they must question my motives.”
Torrullin frowned. “Why?”
“For them to eventually understand you are the only reason I am here, and I would protect you against every one of them.”
Torrullin’s gaze was directed from lowered lids and then he closed them. “Gods.” He opened them and forced himself to move away, leaving Elianas gazing after him with an enigmatic expression.
A number of the team abruptly pretended to look elsewhere, among them Caballa and Teighlar. Saska, however, stared at her husband with a frown.
He ignored them.
“We should rest here a few hours,” Dechend suggested.
“Yes,” Teighlar agreed. “Let us get a fire going.”
Chapter 45
Water is cold, sun is hot and rock is hard. Be merry! Water is life, sun is energy and rock is foundation.
~ Awl
Grinwallin
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 45