Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  Of course, it also nearly killed her on occasion and more than once she thought she would go insane. She laughed at herself. Right, Lowen, you would choose the same.

  She threw her bedding off and put her bare feet to the cold floor. She sat that way for a time, thinking on the wisdom of interfering with his mood, and then shrugged. He was leaving in the morning; this was perhaps her final chance to get into his head. She still needed to do that and would until she drew her final breath.

  It was freezing outside and she shivered in her nightgown, wrapping her arms over her chest. She debated going back for a shawl, but his stance arrested her; all thought of her well-being fled.

  He had finally come to a halt beside the porch pole on the left of the steps and one hand gripped that shaft in white-fingered emotion. His head had descended until his chin almost met his chest and she could see the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. His eyes were closed and he breathed through his nose, little puffs of cloud in the frigid air. Otherwise he was unmoving.

  His feet were bare also, his breeches pulled on but unbuttoned, and his tunic was askew as if he had dragged it on because he had to, an afterthought. His fair hair fell forward to obscure his face.

  He was in the grip of emotion … or entranced by a vision.

  Torrullin was a seer also.

  She cautiously approached. If he was in a vision, she dared not disturb him, but if it was emotion, she needed to let him know she was nearby.

  He made her decision for her. As she neared his head lifted and his profile was revealed. Tight control. His eyes opened and he inhaled through his mouth. Then he turned his head in her direction.

  Silver eyes.

  Lowen shuddered. She knew him well; he was close to the edge, but which edge escaped her.

  He stared at her unspeaking and unmoving.

  The words she said next were beyond her control, as if someone else resided in her body and mind.

  “I am coming with you.”

  He did not in any way react and she knew then he had a vision, and she had been in it. He knew already she was going with him.

  “What strange hell have you seen for me?”

  He moved. He slowly turned his head back to the view of the ocean. His voice was soft and without tone. “It does not work like that, Lowen.”

  Her anger was instant and white-hot. How dare he throw her previous admonishing back at her? How dare he play god with her life? Again? She strode closer and then back-pedalled when he swung around and anticipated her. There was a feral look in his eyes and her fury boiled over; she paced forward and hit him flat-handed.

  “That is so you know from the outset I am not taking your shit. Use me again, Torrullin, and you will regret it.”

  His touched his cheek as if surprised and then he caught her shoulder. His fingers dug in and he drew her close, too close.

  “I am giving you the freedom to use me,” he whispered, his lips a breath away from hers.

  Her breathing dipped as the fires he could stoke so well roared into life inside her. She pushed at him, only to find her body betraying her. Her fingers curled into his tunic, met flesh and scratched, and then gentled to stroke, to caress. Her mouth opened and she stared up into his eyes, meeting the challenge there.

  She pulled away. “No, not again.”

  He laughed humourlessly. “You are wise.”

  Lowen damped the fires. “Don’t forget it.” She ambled back to the door. “I have to pack. How early do you intend leaving?”

  He was silent and then, “Whenever you are ready.”

  She nodded and re-entered her home, not daring to look back. As she headed to her bedroom, she swore, having realised how neatly he shifted her attention away from his vision.

  Bastard, still playing his games.

  Vacuum

  THE CRIES OF HUNDREDS of thousands of lost souls filled the vacuum; people who had their lives ripped from them well before due time and would now lament into eternity, or until freedom arrived in another form. The dead ever sought release from mortal bounds. If it was delayed the dead became avenging spirits.

  In the dubious calm adjacent the roiling darkness of a world rent and liquefied, Torrullin hung grim of countenance, Lowen beside him. He had protected her from the rigours of space, and she was speechless in her horror.

  “Whoever said a vacuum is empty?” he whispered.

  She found her voice. “There is other matter in there also; do not go in.”

  He skewed his head her way. “Matter I can accept, Lowen; it is the mourning inside there that may undo me.”

  She closed her eyes. “I know. We do it together, then.”

  “You have the shield for vacuum travel, but you are no longer immortal. No.” She possessed the talent of transport and was able to hold the shield to protect her from alien air and vacuum, because she was a Dalrish, one of the original Dalrish sorcerers, but in that void she would not cope.

  She scowled at him. “I am not afraid of death.”

  “Yes, well, I am afraid of your death. Stay here.”

  He launched away from her before she could respond or argue further, and moved too fast for her to track his path.

  Void

  THE BEST DEFENCE IN a dangerous situation was to arm oneself with an escape route.

  There would be none of that here.

  The best defence against raw emotion and begging souls was to arm oneself with a wall of uncaring, thick and unassailable. He would not have that, not surrounded by so much grief and suffering.

  He was not dead inside.

  Torrullin reeled under the onslaught of depthless suffering and knew immediately it was a grave miscalculation on his part to enter unarmed. This would certainly undo him; he had but moments before he surrendered to the emotion in the vacuum, his ever-present need to alleviate anguish for once an unqualified shortcoming.

  He steeled himself as much as he was able to and flew blindly into the space of death and destruction, seeking with every sense alert the residue that would gift him information, any evidence, as to Elianas’ whereabouts or who exactly had caused this torture. Even a pointer would suffice.

  A tiny sliver of signature, anything, would aid him.

  He was beaten instantly and knew it.

  Dragging his consciousness back into a state that would enable him to escape, he retraced his inward route, hoping he had not also lost his sense of direction.

  Lowen waited on the other side where he expected to find her, and never had he been so happy to see her. Gods, already they were back at that point where she could undo him simply by existing, but, then, it was not a new thought, was it?

  “Torrullin?”

  He thanked the stars that gifted her tact. Her tone was enquiring and he knew how much it would cost her; inside she was in disarray.

  “There is no trace,” he said.

  He wondered if she knew how much his own neutrality cost him.

  Of course she knew. “I am sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It had to be done.”

  “What do you want to do now?”

  “Quilla, I think.”

  “Ymir?”

  “No, that would alert them. We shall meet him at Teroux’s villa.” He sent the call to the birdman. “It appears we react to situations again, Lowen, and I like it not.”

  She nodded, saying no more, and followed him to Sanctuary.

  Sanctuary

  The Villa

  ROSE WAS ABSENT, but Alik was in.

  He had forgotten Teighlar’s daughter would be there. Torrullin cursed under his breath as she looked up from a book. She was reading out on the veranda encompassing the giant tree to the side of the villa.

  It was cold, but the sun shone down brightly; a perfect day for being outdoors. She rose when she saw him, her gaze flicking curiously over Lowen, and placed her book face down on the small table in the shade of the tree. She stepped off and ambled closer as they climbed the gentle rise through the garden.
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br />   “Who is that?” Lowen enquired.

  “Alik; Teighlar’s daughter.”

  Tact flew away on the wind. “Excuse me, what?”

  He laughed. “Teighlar was as surprised.”

  “God, I am out of touch.”

  Then the beautiful redhead was with them, emerald eyes studying them. “Greetings again, Torrullin. If you are here about the delegation from Thisseldrum …”

  “We are using Teroux’s home for a meet.” Torrullin gestured between the two women. “Alik, Lowen.”

  Lowen may not have known about Alik’s existence, but it was clear Alik knew about Lowen. Her eyes widened and she blurted, “I thought you were a myth!”

  Lowen laughed. “Unfortunately not. Well met, Alik.”

  Quilla made one of his most timeous arrivals ever and Torrullin shifted to him in relief. “Quilla, thank the gods.”

  The birdman raised an eyebrow. “I am wondering what brought that particular sentiment on. Hopefully my survival?”

  Torrullin grinned. “Naturally.”

  The birdman made a dubious sound, greeted Alik and then bowed before Lowen. “My dear, it is excellent to see you again.”

  Lowen smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Colouring slightly, Quilla faced Torrullin. “They are alive, I hope you realise it.”

  Torrullin inclined his head.

  Quilla’s eyes narrowed. “What happened to you?”

  “Who is alive?” Alik said.

  Torrullin’s fingers twitched and Lowen noticed. He did not want to be the one to inform Alik her father was missing and possibly in danger.

  “I will tell her; you two work on strategy,” she said.

  Torrullin glanced at her and could not help what he did next. He traced her jaw lightly with his fingers. “Thank the gods you are in my life.”

  It nearly undid her. She flinched and would have spoken had not Quilla, clever at reading the signs, taken Torrullin away then. She drew breath …

  “You love him,” Alik said.

  Lowen straightened her shoulders. “That has no bearing. Alik, I am sorry, but I have something to tell you.”

  QUILLA QUIVERED, CLAWED toes to feathered head. “I would not have left had I known what was to happen. Torrullin, I would have …”

  “You are alive, Quilla, and that is good. Do not blame yourself. If anyone should assume …”

  “That will not help.”

  Torrullin smiled mirthlessly and flung into a seat before the dead fire in the library. “Quite a pair, the two of us.”

  Quilla moved closer. “How did you discover they are alive?”

  Torrullin rubbed at his face. “Something Lowen said; something Elianas has left undone.”

  “And how is it our Xenian seer is in this mess?”

  Torrullin dropped his hands and stared balefully at the birdman. “She came to fetch me from the Dome, a rescue mission. I asked her to accompany me once I understood all is not lost.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what, damn it?”

  “Why did she agree?”

  “Ask her.”

  “Why did you ask her?”

  Torrullin did not answer.

  “My friend, you cannot place her between you and Elianas again; it is not fair on her.”

  Torrullin stared at him without responding. Then, “What of Ymir?”

  The birdman sat and wagged a finger. “Avoidance is never an answer.”

  Torrullin leaned forward. “Quilla, I thought I had lost my family; worse, I thought I had lost Elianas. Lowen took me away before I could lash out and I had to deal with that also. She is never easy to deal with. And then, just now, I entered the void of Excelsior; I do not need questions regarding where she fits in, not now. Please.”

  “I am aware of your capacity for anger, but using her …”

  “I have had a vision and she is the foil for … never mind.”

  “Who, Torrullin?”

  “Quilla …”

  “Who? Prepare me; I can help.”

  Torrullin stared at him and sat back. “Alik.”

  The birdman was speechless.

  Torrullin grunted. “Surprised? I am not. Did you not see how she looked at Elianas, or how he responded?”

  “Then there is the little matter of how she may remind you of Saska.”

  “There is that, yes. You are not to speak of this.”

  “I do not have a loose tongue.”

  Torrullin grimaced. “Sorry.”

  Quilla waved a vague hand. “Never mind that now. I have news from Ymir. I saw President Bannerman in the thick of this conspiracy.”

  Torrullin swore. “Thus it has the highest support.”

  “Indeed, but there is more. Someone knowledgeable in sorcery drives this.”

  “It has occurred to me. Initially I would have said Nemisin, but we know that is not the case. I know of no other with sufficient foresight who can plan this.”

  Quilla eyed him, but said no more on the subject. Suspicion was one thing, airing it quite another.

  Torrullin was on his feet and pacing, his expression clouded. “I need somehow to lure this mysterious sorcerer, bring him or her out into the open, if only for a moment.”

  “You would endanger Elianas and your grandsons.”

  Torrullin growled, “What do you suggest?”

  “Bannerman.”

  “Gods, Quilla, I was out of it for four months, but I have not completely lost my political savvy. Interfering with Bannerman will cause waves of epic size.”

  “No one will interfere if they understand why. And you could do it secretly.”

  “How?”

  “Alik has a connection with the son; use the son.”

  “I cannot believe you advocate this,” Torrullin muttered. He gave the birdman a skew eye.

  Quilla flapped his hands, aware of the ethics. “I do not like it, but there is too much at stake.”

  “I do not particularly want to become pals with Alik.”

  Quilla squinted up. “Whatever personal issues you think lie in store is beside the point. Get to Bannerman and you get to all other forces behind this manipulation.”

  Of course Lowen and Alik entered then, and they heard the name.

  Alik’s gaze narrowed. “What are you planning?”

  Torrullin threaded a hand through his hair, carefully not looking at her. “We need a line to Bannerman. I need to have a word with young Mikhail.”

  “I said I would help by talking to him, but I am not using our friendship.”

  He swung around. “Bannerman could know where your father is.”

  She glared at him. “That is low.”

  “Get used to it.”

  “Kidnap bloody Bannerman, if that is what it takes, considering he is no doubt guilty of the same, but do not put Mikhail in the middle.”

  “He is already there, Alik, as you now are.”

  She swore under her breath, thereby raising a few eyebrows in the room moment later. “Oh, bugger off, I wasn’t reared in the royal chambers.”

  Torrullin spluttered laughter. “Dear Aaru, poor Teighlar.”

  She glared daggers at him. “What about Mikhail?”

  “He will get the full truth, as you have, and may then make his own decision. If he refuses to become embroiled with his father’s scheming, I shall respect it.”

  She jerked a nod. “Fine. He will be here tomorrow.”

  Gods. Torrullin pulled at his hair in frustration. He doubted he could wait that long.

  Lowen stepped in. “Torrullin.”

  He looked at her.

  WHATEVER SHE HAD BEEN about to say died on her lips. “Hell, you are on the edge, aren’t you? You and Elianas both, on knife edges.”

  He bored into her. “You saw him.”

  “And I told you I am not saying more. Come away, walk in the garden.”

  He barked a laugh. “I have been walking in a garden for bloody days, Lowen. And
along a beach. I do not want to fucking walk anymore.”

  “You want to run. It is eating you alive.”

  Torrullin strode past her and into the outer room. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

  She followed, leaving Quilla to deal with Alik. “I know better than most.”

  “Did he kiss you?”

  Her sharp breath revealed her.

  He swung around with a feral smile. “Priceless, Lowen. Seems you put yourself between us without us having to ask.”

  She slapped him. “You belittle everything. What happened to you?”

  “You are out of touch. Elianas killed Tymall, Elianas and I have betrayed each other’s ideals. Atonement is due.”

  “Retribution, more like.”

  “You are not surprised. The seer has seen.”

  “I have seen quite a bit, yes, and it is the main reason I wanted to stay out of it.” She pushed at him. “Alik is an innocent.”

  He stared down at her. “You saw that.”

  “How dare you stand in judgement, Torrullin? Besides Saska, there was Lycea, Cat and me. Does he not deserve happiness also?”

  “Every relationship I had was between times, and had nothing to do with him. He will not find happiness.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Gods, Lowen, of course I do.”

  She looked away. “Then you are headed for trouble. You dare not interfere is he falls for the redhead.”

  “I aim to interfere.”

  “That is why I am here.”

  “Partly.”

  “Don’t do this to me.”

  “Walk away now.” Torrullin folded his arms.

  She laughed bitterly. “After you tell me you are glad I am in your life? How can I? I will stick around for now.”

  “Then we are headed for trouble, all of us.”

  Lowen shrugged. “So be it. This will be my swan song, after all.” She wandered out into the garden. “Torrullin, we need a less obvious place to meet than here. A place no one knows about.”