The man wagged a finger. “Not yet. I know it gifts you freedom to do with me what you will.”
“Torrullin?” Elianas prompted.
“Tell me my name, Torrullin,” the man wheedled. “Then you have control.”
“And you have your freedom. I do not think so.”
Elianas approached to lay his blade in the man’s neck from behind. “What stops this?”
The man did not move. “Ask him.”
“A timedancer bridges the flows,” Torrullin muttered.
Elianas lifted dark eyes to Torrullin. “Truly?”
“Yes, like to Alhazen!” Tannil crowed.
Only Torrullin knew how it caused Elianas to flinch inside. “Ha. We have only your word you are a timedancer,” the dark man muttered.
That was true. Torrullin lifted a shoulder at the man standing under a blade.
That man raised a finger to the sharpness at his neck and lifted it away. Stepping out from under it, he said, “Truth? Will that suffice?”
Torrullin, after a moment, nodded. Elianas stepped aside, but held his blade ready.
“I am part Tannil of your time, part Tannil from the man behind me, but they are small parts. The genetics from both aided in creating form. The greatest part, the real me, is from another mother and a father, and I see you already suspect as much. Yes, my father was Eurue and my mother was of the Lorin, but it is all connected, who and what we are. It is why he now wields a sword called Eurue - named for Original, not so - and yours is catharsis, for you tie it together, Torrullin. In you there is redemption and atonement, if someone wants it enough, and is that not catharsis?”
Torrullin would not be drawn. “I hear only connections made in supposition. Where is this truth you offer?”
“I am part shadow. It is dominant.”
Torrullin shrugged. “So? I am part shadow also.”
The man wheezed a laugh. “You are not thinking. Corners and curves, hmm?”
Torrullin blinked. Then he doubled over, hyperventilating.
“Oh,” Elianas murmured.
“What is my name, Elixir?” the man pressed in a soft tone.
Torrullin straightened to meet Elianas’ gaze. The dark man nodded and sheathed his sword.
“Your name is Rivalen.”
The man bowed. “Thank you.” He stepped closer. “I am free to go?”
Torrullin moved aside. “Release the shield. You are free to go.”
The golden man smiled. “Before I do so I shall gift you my true appearance as you have gifted me my true name. Then no one will be confused in the future.”
He seemed then to shed his skin and all colour, but it was perception rather than reality. Swiftly another membrane and hue took its place. It happened so fast the horror of witnessing was over before it could be grasped.
The man who stood there was a different persona as well as another form. Gone was the bumbling of Tannil, the sense of insanity. This man was all there and of sound mind.
He was tall, at least eight feet, and wore leather, chain and iron. Muscles rippled underneath. Although intimidating in dress and presence, his face was his main feature, for it alone was uncovered.
Skin as white as snow. Lips as red as blood. One eye was as blue as snow melt water, the other as black as darkness. When he moved, shadows danced across his skin, altering white to grey to black and back again.
He stood before Torrullin. “I too am a true immortal.”
Torrullin nodded wearily. “Just go.”
Rivalen bowed. “Until we meet.” He stepped through the shield - Tristan had not given the word to release it - and vanished.
Untidily then the shield dissipated.
“What the hell?” Tristan demanded.
Kaval all around milled in confusion, although Chaim, wise Chaim, drew in a long breath and stared at Torrullin with sympathy and understanding. Sabian sat in the dirt, clasping his knees. He stared into the distance.
When neither Torrullin nor Elianas made any kind of move, Tristan said, “Return to the Dome. We are on war watch.”
One by one they left. Erin wanted to say something, but Tristan shook his head at her. Jonas nearly opened his big mouth, but Amunti cuffed him before he even thought it. Shenendo and Galarth glanced at each other and then vanished together.
Chaim remained in the trampled circle of dust. “My Lord Elixir,” he murmured, “there is always hope. New choices are formed when despair is near.”
Torrullin looked at the old man. “I hear you. Thank you.”
Chaim sighed and left.
Kicking at the dirt, Torrullin punched the air and screamed out, a sustained sound of rage and anguish. “Why did we not see this?” he thereafter demanded hoarsely of Elianas.
“Cassiopin could have told us,” Sabian said. “We should have held on to her.”
Elianas jerked to him. “What the fuck do you mean?”
Sabian glanced their way. “A universal net dampens brinkmanship, yes, but it also creates a lattice.”
Tristan swore loudly. “Just speak plain. I am in the dark here.”
“No, you are now in the shadows, we all are,” Sabian murmured. “A lattice is a surface where there was none. It is a ladder where one is needed. It is a weave of opportunity, for it uses dark and light to be seen, known and understood. Therefore it is also created of shadows. If one has the patience, the will, the guts to travel where a corner is a curve, where a hexagon is a circle …”
“Fuck,” Tristan blurted, “the goddamn Path of Shades?”
“Cassy used her net to pull at the Path,” Elianas understood.
Sabian opened his hands eloquently.
Tristan squatted before Torrullin. “What does all this mean?”
“Rivalen exited from the Path.”
“I am getting that. Explain what it means, Torrullin.”
“Well, most pertinent to this body standing in this dust, is the fact, if I kill him, I say farewell to this time forever.”
Dark hair swung. “What?”
Torrullin stared. “He is my master mechanism.”
Elianas demanded, “How the fuck do you figure that?”
“True name, Elianas. Rivalen, while a square round, also means …”
“Stone,” Sabian said.
“Air,” Tristan muttered.
“Water,” Elianas frowned.
“… flame,’ Torrullin added. “Do you see now?”
“I do not, no.”
“Same elements as Elixir,’ Sabian murmured.
“We are all made of those,” Tristan snapped.
“This is not about what we are made of, Kaval leader. It is in the name. ‘Elixir’ also translates as stone, air, water and flame.”
Tristan’s butt found dirt.
Elianas’ eyes narrowed in calculation. “If we cannot kill him, we need to get him to the Avior door, shove him back into the Path.”
“And what lure do we use?” Torrullin murmured.
Elianas tapped Torrullin’s chest. “The Medaillon.”
“There is logic there.”
“Chaim’s new choices?” Tristan muttered, causing Torrullin to splutter into laughter.
Sabian shuffled closer. “You retain control, he said. What manner of control? His movements?”
“His … power. By all gods, his power.” Torrullin gripped Elianas’ arm. “When I spoke Quilla’s true name to open the Q’lin’la homeworld to him, he said I now carry the Song. I do have the Q’lin’la Song. Thus, logic dictates I carry Rivalen’s power.”
Elianas closed his eyes. “This is a dangerous state. While you walk the Path of Shades, you have not been of the Path, and now you can control all shadows?”
Torrullin shook his arm. “Not all shadows. His shadows.”
Sabian nodded. “It could work.”
“How?” Tristan demanded.
Elianas loosened the grip on his arm. “This requires careful thought. Meanwhile that giant creature is now free in our univ
erse and time.”
Torrullin said, “We need to have words with Tarlinn, and Lowen needs to find Neolone in a vision.”
“Tian will not allow you near the Throne,” Tristan said.
“And I would prefer you stay away from Lowen,” Elianas muttered.
Sabian shook his head. “You are definitely all mad.”
Chapter 24
Dig deep and you will uncover hidden depth.
~ Tattle to his scribe ~
Akhavar
OATHS WERE STILL BEING renewed before the Throne.
Elianas took one look and said he was heading home. He vanished.
Tristan frowned. “Now is not the time to tell Tian of Rivalen. I am off to the Dome.” Swiftly he was gone as well.
Torrullin lifted an eyebrow at Sabian, who said, “I shall keep watch here for weird … events.” He sauntered into the crowd.
A light touch on his arm had Torrullin looking down. “Quilla, where have you been?”
“Research,’ the birdman dimpled.
“What kind?”
“The kind only a tiny birdman is capable of.”
“I could use your counsel.”
Quilla smiled. “Then you may have it. Tell me, does Elianas require my ear as well?”
Torrullin smirked. “Oh wise one.”
“Avaelyn?” Quilla prompted.
Torrullin nodded and they left together.
Avaelyn
THEY DISCOVERED ELIANAS ON the stone bench overlooking the ocean.
He smiled at Quilla. “It is good to see you.”
Quilla touched his forehead. “I thank you for the welcome.” He made himself comfortable on the grass. “I am hearing rumours. Perhaps you would enlighten me?”
Torrullin flopped down, then rapidly sat forward after his back bounced against the stone, hissing in a breath.
“Heal it,” Elianas snapped.
“You will be doing it.” Torrullin sat carefully.
“Martyr, are we?”
“We are so angry, I see,” Torrullin snorted.
Quilla tutted. “Please. Leave that for later. Talk to me.”
For hours they sat there and went over recent events, including Teroux’s state - Quilla sighed sadly over that - Teighlar’s meddling and the declaration of war and, naturally the reality of Rivalen, now bearing his true name.
At the end of it Quilla stood and stretched. “Now I need to work it into logic. I shall return in the morning.” He vanished.
Torrullin muttered, “We didn’t even offer him something to drink.”
“He will survive.”
“Why are you angry?”
“It pisses me off that we can - both of us - be on the brink of an ending.”
Torrullin shifted on the hard bench. “There was a time I thought too much life was a terrible burden. Now, finally, there is reason to continue and life suddenly has the potential to cease. A contradiction, but many live with this, Elianas. Do you hear them railing at their fates?”
“All the time.”
Torrullin touched his face. “Please heal me.”
Dark eyes impaled. “Why?”
Silver answered him. “I shall be in the perfect position for surrender and I need you to take advantage of me.”
Elianas inhaled and stumbled up. Hands threaded into his hair. “I cannot. My ancient and prudish moral core does not allow it.”
Torrullin rose, understanding years of fear had left unseen scars. “Then just heal me. Do it slowly, so I may feel your hands questing on my back again.”
Elianas covered his face with his hands. “So much compassion. How do you stand it?”
Something else was at work in that mind. It was time to still its frantic pace. Torrullin stepped towards the cliff, muttering.
Elianas dropped his hands and looked up. “A storm?”
“A mother of one.”
Torrullin pulled at the fabric of the air and lightning struck the ocean not far away, and thunder rolled and crashed, and static blew shards of electricity in a skittering pattern across the water.
Massive drops of rain fell, and day became night.
Elianas hauled him in. “Why?” he shouted above the din.
“Proof of life, Elianas!”
The heavens opened then, drenching them within moments.
THEY RAN FOR THE dwelling and lightning crashed alongside, great swathes of white light. Heaving, they hurtled into Elianas’ bedchamber from the outside and rain formed rivers at the edge of his space.
Hair stood on end, and so did another part of their anatomy.
Elianas hit him. “You are manipulating me!”
Torrullin pulled him closer. “You allow it!”
Elianas drew back to throw a punch, but Torrullin danced away and drew his clothes off. Boots flew, his sword hit the floor, followed by tunic, and Elianas seized him, shoved him face to the wall, yanked his breeches down … and stilled there.
Leaning on his hands, Torrullin was unmoving.
Gentle fingers descended to his back and slowly, ever so slowly, touched here, there, with careful intent. Thighs pressed into the back of his and he felt, through the fabric of the man’s breeches, Elianas’ arousal nestle into his naked behind.
Torrullin did not move.
Those hands continued questing as the storm intensified.
Elianas’ mouth descended to taste his neck and the man leaned in, remaining fully clothed. Those gentle hands caressed his hips and moved around to his stomach, descended to clasp a hard shaft. Teeth nibbled at his shoulder and he thrust forward at the same time as he bit down, forcing arousal into tightening fingers.
Torrullin threw his head back as Elianas did it again and again, those fingers ever tighter. Lightning accompanied each thrust.
By god. He lost all strength in his limbs, but the dark man held him, thrusting until he shuddered and released. Utterly weak, Torrullin rested gasping into the wall.
Elianas leaned against him, supporting him. “How your blood sings,” he whispered in his ear.
Who had just manipulated whom?
Torrullin inhaled repeatedly until he regained some motor function, and then gradually turned in that hold. Leaning his healed back against cold stone, he fought for equilibrium.
Elianas drew his breeches up for him, fastened the clasp, and rested one hand flat upon the Maghdim Medaillon. He moved in and kissed him, pressing the coin into his chest.
“Release the storm,” he said then against his lips.
The din lessened after a moment, and thunder and lightning withdrew by degree. The rain stopped.
Hands then on either side of him and pressing him bodily into the wall, Elianas murmured, “Did they not tell you I have darker spaces?”
Torrullin gripped that dark head. “Idiot, did no one tell you that is why I want you so much?” Lust ripped anew through him. He dragged that mouth to his, demanding everything.
Elianas pushed away. He retreated, heaving. His arousal was blatant, but he moved away until he sat on the edge of his bed. “All gods, Torrullin, never have you given into your hunger quite like that.” He closed his eyes. “Never have I desired you more.”
Torrullin slid down the wall to sit.
Elianas lay back. “Teroux no doubt suffered an orgasm of note.”
Oh, fuck, true. Teroux.
The back of his head hit the wall and Torrullin closed his eyes. “I have had enough of all this extraneous shit. Go and kill the little fuck and let us move on.”
Laughter floated from the bed. “Now I know you are not thinking with big brain matter.”
Torrullin stood and strode to the shower to stand for a long time under the hot spray.
Akhavar
WHEN HE EMERGED FROM the sleeping area of the dwelling, there was no sign of Elianas.
Shrugging, choosing to temporarily leave the man to his own devices, Torrullin went to Akhavar as night fell. Still the timing of night and day was the same for every world visited, and he w
ondered how long it would last.
Tianoman sat slumped on the Throne in an empty chamber.
The Vallorin was exhausted.
Torrullin approached quietly, but with enough sound to alert Tianoman to his presence. “It is tiring sitting for so long to listen to the same words,” he murmured.
Tianoman rubbed at his face and offered a weary smile. “Sitting shouldn’t be tiring and yet it is.”
Torrullin stretched. “Today has been quite a day.” He gestured at the dais edge. “May I sit?”
The younger man pushed from the golden seat to stretch as well and then ambled over. Dragging his grandfather down with him, he sat there. As Torrullin perched as well, he murmured, “More sitting. Since when do you need to ask to move or speak or act in my presence?”
Torrullin leaned back on his hands, one leg crooked, the other outstretched. “I am feeling spectacularly removed from my sense of place at the moment.”
A moment of silence ensued before Tianoman said, “I do believe that is the first time I have heard Torrullin the man speak to me.”
“The me part is so wrapped in layers I do not even know where that me is anymore.” Torrullin lay back on the cold ebony dais and covered his face. “Truth, Tian? I no longer belong in this time.”
The Vallorin turned to lay flat on his stomach alongside, resting his chin on his hands. “You know why you are feeling lost?”
Torrullin lowered his hands, laid them on his chest. “Torrke, I suspect.”
“Yes. You have surrendered something precious to you - to you, Torrullin. The man within.”
“The one place I built with no thought for others. It was raised for family, for peace … for me. Back then I had no past and the future I expected was raising my boys. Torrullin, the man.” He said no more.
Tianoman whispered, “I felt it there. Hearth and home. I do not know how living here will gift it.”
Torrullin moved his head to gaze upon this wonderful grandson. “You feel lost in place too.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 209