Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  Torrullin wandered onto the grass, thinking. A hand threaded through hair.

  She walked up to him and poked him. “I have to say this. Elianas has beautiful wings, Torrullin. Don’t mess with that.”

  He stared at her.

  “Do you hear me?”

  Indrawn breath. “How? It has not been long since he released his shadows.”

  “And then he killed someone, right? How does he deserve wings that define him? And that is exactly it. They define him. It isn’t about deserving them. They have always been there, but shadow wings superseded them and now he is free of those.”

  “He is pure, is that what you imply?”

  “No.”

  “What then?”

  “He is beautiful.”

  Torrullin groaned under his breath and threaded two hands through his hair. “Gods, yes, he is.”

  She sighed and laid a hand on his chest. His heart beat erratically and he flinched from her, knowing she read too much.

  “Boy, how do you live with yourself?” she whispered. “I knew you in knots about Saska, but this depth for Elianas is eternal. Why do you fight so hard to deny it?”

  “There is the little issue of crossing the line.”

  “A convenient excuse. You can get beyond it.”

  He leaned in. “Before I lost my memory in this time, we were this close.” He held thumb and forefinger together with barely a gap. “If Cassy had not arrived on the heels of Nemisin and Tristan, that line would now be crossed. And now he avoids me, after saying he would await the next day. The next day, Lowen. Now. And it is as if nothing happened. Anger reigns.”

  “I see. He now denies you. Payback, perhaps, for the years of denying him.”

  “He is not that vindictive.”

  “I think you are both that vindictive. You bear grudges, you punish, you twist words, and you excel at brinkmanship. I also think he is wearing a mask. Yes, I see, you think it too.” She paused, and then lifted a hand to her cheek. “Gods, poor Alik. She will be part of his mask.” Her startling blue eyes lifted into his. “He aims to drive you mad, a point you have to reach.”

  “He is not in denial,” Torrullin stated.

  “No.”

  “And he kissed you.”

  “He wants me.”

  He shuddered. “I am leaving now.”

  Her breath shortened. “That would be wise.”

  But he did not leave, and wisdom was nowhere to be found.

  He drew her closer and lowered his mouth to hers, and she did not protest.

  QUILLA, COMING OUT OF the villa with Alik beside him, came to a halt on seeing them together.

  He sighed, noting the kiss deepen until Lowen’s arms were wrapped around Torrullin and he had pulled her so close it appeared as if he tried to absorb her into him.

  “They look good together,” Alik murmured.

  “And yet it is not good for them.” He glanced up at the young woman beside him. “Do not go getting ideas about Torrullin, hear? It is better to stay away.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry. I like them tall, dark and handsome.” Her gaze returned to the two in the garden.

  Quilla continued looking at her. “I would stay away from Elianas also.”

  Her smile vanished, but she did not otherwise respond.

  “Torrullin is complicated, and so is Elianas, but Torrullin at least wears his emotions openly most of the time. Getting through to Elianas is far harder.”

  “I am not looking for a love affair, Quilla, don’t worry.”

  “Good.”

  IN THE GARDEN LOWEN drew back. “Let us go to my cottage.”

  Holding onto her, he said, “He will feel it. I cannot, I am sorry.”

  “What do you mean?” Her fingers twisted in the back of his hair.

  “I mean he will feel me make love to you.” With regret he moved away from her to again run his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths to return a measure of equanimity.

  “And you can feel him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how do you feel then?”

  “Torn.”

  “Explain that.”

  He stared at her. “I am glad he releases sexual tension in the act, and I am so angry I want to kill him. Torn, Lowen, between what is normal and what is not. What else do you want to know? That I feel what he feels, that it is as if I am there? It is the same for him.”

  “And is he torn?”

  Torrullin closed his eyes. “He has never said.”

  She closed in, deliberately damping the fires. “You have to break the circle.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I intend to find out.”

  Chapter 24

  Ensure the cells are dry and the locks oiled. Incarceration is about more than loss of freedom. Do this, and feed the prisoners well, and you may earn the respect of your peers … if your reason for incarceration is sound.

  ~ Annals of Inmates ~

  The Dome

  BELUN WAS IN A FURY.

  He stalked around glaring at monitors, hoping for enlightenment, praying for one sensor somewhere to pick something up, but there was nothing. When Rose - retrieved from Kora City and a farspeaker briefing - demanded return to Sanctuary, he snapped at her. Belun never snapped at a woman. He apologised immediately after.

  She glared at him, miffed, but ceased her demands. Alik, for her part, wandered the circle peering at monitors. No one else was resident. The Kaval lifted the siege on Lintusillem.

  To keep the women safe, Torrullin brought them to the Dome. He also hoped for insight from the Circle’s inner workings.

  Belun came to a halt in front of Torrullin. “I know you have been through real crap recently, four months missing really messed …”

  “Best four months of my life,” Torrullin murmured.

  Belun blinked and Lowen swivelled her head.

  Torrullin waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. What is your point?”

  “You must have an idea who is behind this.”

  “Bannerman.”

  Belun made a sound in his throat. “Please. The man is an autocrat and not the brightest. Behind him.”

  “Nothing is confirmed.”

  Belun stared at him. “You do know. I think you should tell us.”

  Torrullin swung for the dragon ogive. “I am joining the search. I shall be back for the meeting with young Bannerman.”

  “I am coming, too,” Lowen said.

  “You are not.”

  “Torrullin, stop it.”

  He snapped back, “Lowen, I am not about to break again.”

  “That is not my fear, damn it.”

  “Will you not stay put? They think you are dead,” Belun issued.

  Torrullin glanced over his shoulder and was gone. The ogive chimed.

  The Centuar smacked at the console.

  Lowen glared at Quilla. “Take me with you.”

  The birdman had other plans. “Not right now.” He hastened to his exit. The Q’lin’la ogive sounded.

  Lowen lost her temper while Belun stood grinning in admiration.

  Elsewhere

  THEY WHISPERED TOGETHER and Tianoman told Aislinn to guard her every thought.

  That would be harder to do than staying calm, and both knew it. Aislinn’s description of her abductor had shed no light and it frustrated her husband.

  When sounds emerged beyond the door, he hurtled across the space to stand ready, the lamp held aloft. He really wished for his sword.

  The door, however, did not open. A hatch appeared in the centre of the wood and two plates of food were pushed through to float to a table under the window. Water and wine followed, and then the hatch snapped magically closed.

  Beaten, he lowered the lamp. Every time food came he hoped their gaoler would enter.

  Aislinn meanwhile investigated the fare, and glanced at him. “How long since you have eaten?”

  He shrugged.

  “Then com
e and do so. Keep your strength, Tian. We will need it.”

  Reluctantly he did as she bid, hating dependency on a mystery gaoler. It tasted of nothing.

  Echolone

  THE COTTAGE WAS ON Echolone, a distance from Oak Wood Hill, hidden amongst giant trees in full leaf. Squirrels leapt from branch to branch and birds twittered until the forest rang with song. A river ran fast somewhere close, and wood smoke filled the small clearing.

  A man fair of hair, lean and sunburned, chopped logs into firewood to the left of the cottage, his tunic removed. Muscles rippled over the lean form as he lifted the axe and let it fall, again and again. Sweat poured from him.

  He heard the sounds despite that, despite the cover of birdsong and rustling leaves. Someone approached. He shifted his hands on the axe hilt and hefted it as a weapon, and waited.

  He dropped it when he saw who his visitor was.

  Quilla.

  He moved forward, but not far.

  The birdman approached, smiling. “Sabian.”

  “Good news or bad news, Quilla?”

  “Both.”

  Sabian indicated with his head at the cottage. “Tell me inside.”

  By the time Quilla entered Sabian had wiped the sweat off, washed his face and donned a light linen tunic. He moved to the range and set a kettle to boil. He gestured the birdman to a seat at the rough wooden table in the centre of the room, before turning the lamp flame up for more light.

  He sat as well. “Torrullin?”

  “That is the good news.”

  A smile blossomed. “He is back.”

  “In fine fettle, yes.”

  “No doubt wanting to bash Elianas.”

  “Something like that,” Quilla muttered.

  “And the bad news?”

  “The Vallas, all of them, are in trouble.”

  Sabian pursed his lips. “You better tell me from the beginning.”

  He listened, rising at one stage to prepare two mugs of coffee. He did not interrupt, sipping at the hot brew as Quilla went into detail, revealing the recent kidnappings, and Excelsior’s demise.

  “And why have you come to me?” he asked when Quilla lapsed into silence and reached for his mug.

  A sip. Still hot. “You have a unique ability.”

  “Ah. You need me on hand to take someone into another realm. You have a real suspect.”

  Quilla nodded.

  “Who is it?”

  Quilla shook his head.

  “Does Torrullin know about this request of yours?”

  “He does not. He will, however, see the wisdom.”

  “You should know now I will not go behind his back.”

  “I am aware, but I need to give him this option.”

  Sabian nodded, blue eyes thoughtful. “He will not like it.”

  “He will accuse me of interference.”

  “And if Elianas is hurt, or worse, he might not think twice about using my talents.” Sabian paused there. “You believe Elianas will be hurt.”

  “Elianas will be hurt,” Quilla stated.

  Sabian nodded and stood up. “I will come. Where and when?”

  Quilla sipped some more, enjoying the brew, and told him of the meet at the villa.

  Sabian gave his agreement and they moved on to other topics, among them Teighlar having a daughter he had not known of, and murder in Grinwallin.

  Thisseldrum

  MIKHAIL PREPARED FOR the meeting at the villa on Sanctuary.

  He included his test scores in the package, notes on his fields of expertise, and brushed up on his manners. Living as a student tended to neglect the latter. He and six others were invited, and he needed to stand out. He wanted a position on Sanctuary, and to the desert with what his father thought.

  They gathered on the concourse beyond the school grounds and boarded the traveller. Accompanying them was the dean and four burly men, bodyguards to the rich. One of them was his, a man known as simply Jack.

  Jack would report every word and action back to President Bannerman. He wished he could have done this without him, but the dean refused. His standing orders were that a bodyguard accompanied the son of a President always.

  Mikhail pulled a face at Jack as the craft lifted off - Jack ignored it - and then buried his nose in his notes.

  He was not alone in that.

  Sanctuary

  Mariner Island

  SIX HOURS LATER THEY touched down on Sanctuary and were escorted over the giant bridge to Mariner Island.

  A tour of the sprawling facility followed, led by a team of doctors and administrators, with the dean in thick conversation with them. By the end of the lengthy tour it was clear four of his fellow students had no stomach for the reality of real illnesses. They begged off and the dean gave permission for them to return to the craft. Three bodyguards left with them.

  Mikhail, the two remaining students, Jack and the dean were shown into a comfortable waiting area. Refreshments were provided and they were informed Rose Valla would be with them shortly.

  She was not long in coming.

  The three students’ eyes nearly popped from their heads on seeing her. Rose, after all, was seriously sexy.

  She greeted everyone, and the dean, equally taken, affected introductions. She asked them to partake of refreshments while she had a word with the dean in private.

  It was soon evident what she had to say did not sit well with the man. He remonstrated, she smiled sweetly and spoke softly, he glared in their direction and she touched his arm and spoke some more.

  The upshot was that each student would undertake a private interview. No dean. No bodyguard. They were elated, especially Mikhail, who now did not have to suffer Jack’s presence when he attempted to shine.

  SHE LED THE FIRST young man into the corridor and transported out to the villa with him. In a small chamber off the front entrance she proceeded to grill him.

  Her long term aim remained acquiring doctors of good character and expertise, with a willingness to work hard for Sanctuary, and thus she did not regard the interview as a subterfuge. She exhausted him and then returned him to Mariner Island, where he slumped into a seat.

  The next student looked at him worriedly and at Rose anxiously, before she took him for the same grilling. He was returned as shattered.

  Of course, there was subterfuge involved also, for the longer she kept the first two, the longer Mikhail could safely be removed from the team.

  He was next. She took his arm in the corridor over Jack’s denials and took him to the villa.

  The Villa

  ROSE DELIVERED MIKHAIL directly to the library where Alik, Lowen and Torrullin waited.

  His gaze went to Alik first.

  She came forward and kissed his cheek. “Mikhail, forgive the backhandedness, but we need to talk to you.”

  “What’s going on, Alik? I thought I was here for an interview and tour.”

  “And you will have an interview, I promise,” Rose said. “But it isn’t today.”

  He glanced from her back to Alik, then at Lowen, who smiled at him, and then he met the gaze of the only man in the room. His eyes widened.

  “My Lord Elixir.”

  Torrullin approached holding his hand out. “Mikhail Bannerman.”

  He shook that hand wordlessly.

  Torrullin gestured at a chair. “Please sit. And just listen. We do not have much time.”

  Mikhail swallowed, glanced again at Alik, who shrugged, and sat on a stiff armchair.

  Torrullin moved to stand with his back to the fire and clasped his hands. “Please do not interrupt. It has come to our attention your father is raising an army and building warships. His intention in the short term is to invade Sanctuary for food supplies, Valaris for fuel and Xen for food and fuel as well as minerals. Yltri is being denuded of sustenance right now and Ymir is hosting a growing army and building a citadel in the desert to withstand siege. Thereafter he intends to take the exploitation further.”

  Mikhail’s m
outh hung open.

  “Behind him is a strong sorcerer and that individual understands how important it is to the long term goal to rid your father of interferences such as myself, the Vallorin of Valaris, probably the Kaval, and Teighlar of Grinwallin. To that end Tianoman, Tristan of the Kaval, and Teighlar have been kidnapped.”

  “Excuse me?” Mikhail’s gaze went to Alik.

  “Yes, that means Alik is in danger. Teroux, Rose’s husband and my grandson, is also taken and so is Aislinn, the Vallorin’s wife. Rose and Alik are now under my protection and the heir to the Valleur Throne is in hiding. There is proof of your father’s involvement, not least of which is his presence on Ymir at the citadel.”

  Mikhail was on his feet. “Do you think I am involved?”

  “No, young man, I do not think that at all. My first aim in meeting with you was to discover whether you have heard anything of your father’s plans, and then I would ask you to keep your eyes and ears open.”

  “What?” Alik snapped. “Torrullin, I told you I would not stand …”

  “I have changed my mind,” he overrode her. “I am not asking anything like it.” She subsided. “I am, however, suggesting your life is in danger.”

  Alik gasped.

  Mikhail’s eyes narrowed. “How do you figure?”

  “A sorcerer needs leverage, even over his major factor. To control Bannerman, he needs you. Soon he will come for you.”

  Mikhail sat.

  Torrullin smiled without amusement. “I do not hear you denying the accusations against your father.”

  “I cannot. But I haven’t heard anything, I swear. I only know my father will do anything if there is advantage for him in it.”

  “Oh, Mikhail,” Alik whispered.

  He stared at her. “I am sorry about your father.”

  She nodded. “And he is my father, proven.”

  “Even worse.”