“Torrullin and Elianas are special,” Lowen said.
“Has Immirin ever mentioned worlds?” Elianas asked, heading off the kind of explanations Torrullin would be unwilling to give.
“Akhavar,” Marjori stated.
“Part of Reaume,” Lowen said. “Immirin’s birth world.”
“You know this Akhavar?” Sarahin questioned.
“Akhavar’s future is why we are here,” Torrullin said, and rose from the table. “Thank you for dinner. I would like to venture out into the city; is that acceptable?”
Sarahin blinked. “Of course.”
“Elianas?”
The dark man stood swiftly. “I am intrigued also. Lowen?”
“You two go. I prefer some female company for a while.”
The two men headed out, bumping into each other in their haste to leave.
Watching them, Lowen chortled. “They do not like answering questions.”
“But you don’t mind?” Marjori murmured.
“Ask away,” Lowen grinned, and all three women laughed.
Acinro
“MORE GLASS THAN ANYTHING else,” Elianas said, looking up at tall buildings lit for the night.
“Standard these days,” Torrullin responded.
“I am aware, but Kalgaia was built to be as transparent and yet it was not this.”
“Kalgaia was raised with soul. This is expediency.”
Elianas glanced at the man beside him. “Are you angry?”
Torrullin scratched at his head as they wandered silent thoroughfares. Not many walked the night’s streets here and he was grateful for it. This was a city that came to life for the day more than the night.
“My anger was for your silence to this point, not over your past.”
“You lie, Torrullin.” Elianas halted before an ornate façade, one with intricate curls in the stonework. It was one of few buildings that was more stone than metal and glass.
“A cathedral,” Torrullin muttered, studying the bell tower and arched windows. “Do you know of their religion?”
Elianas swung to him. He did not speak.
“Yes, I am angry,” Torrullin growled. “Truthfully? I am fucking jealous, all right?”
Lines of amusement appeared at the dark man’s eyes, but he did not otherwise respond.
“Of course, it now occurs to me, if I feel this way long after the fact, then what was in your mind when you met Saska face to face?”
“I wondered when you would ask that,” Elianas murmured.
Torrullin muttered to himself, before saying, “Do not answer. Perhaps if I knew Hunarial I would not be this peeved. Imagination creates too many nuances, after all.”
Elianas inclined his head. “Hunarial’s smile would have had you kissing her feet, as Saska’s had me eating out of her hands.”
Torrullin walked on unsmiling.
“It took me some time to overcome my instinctive jealousy,” Elianas admitted as he settled into the rhythm alongside. “I realised … never mind.”
“Tell me.”
Elianas halted, forcing Torrullin to a stop also. “I realised true jealousy is reserved for another kind of relationship.”
This time Torrullin remained wordless.
“If you cast your eye over a man, I will probably explode purely from rage.” Elianas slapped in irritation at his thighs. “I cannot believe I just admitted that.”
“Your prudish and moral core?” Torrullin rested one hand on a tense shoulder before him. “Likewise, Elianas, and thank you.”
“Thank you?” the dark man echoed.
“Yes, for your honesty places our relationship into perspective.”
“Do tell.”
“There is no need to fear the women in our lives.”
“Except Lowen.”
“Not even Lowen,” Torrullin murmured. “Cassy was between us more than Lowen could ever be.”
“Cassy?”
Torrullin grunted a laugh. “I wanted to bloody murder her. She took you away from me, but mostly she took you away from yourself.”
Elianas closed his eyes.
“That is the past,” Torrullin added. “Saska is the past, as is Hunarial, and we remain in the same spaces despite all.”
“Lowen is in our present,” Elianas snapped.
“Lowen, Elianas, loves both of us. There is the telling difference in what was and what is.”
Elianas, after a while, nodded.
They resumed their wander through the city raised in Ariann.
Ornate Atrium
THE VEHICLE SUMMONED TO transport them over the vast distance from Acinro to the Achen Plains proved to be a camouflaged and streamlined pod.
Windowless but for a sliver of transparency the driver employed for view, it possessed no wheels and yet it could not be described as a hovercraft either. The closest comparison to vehicles known to Lowen was a ground flyer.
“It is an aircraft, but it follows the contours of the landscape,” she told the two men.
“Why are there no windows?’ Elianas asked. He hated enclosed spaces.
“Security,” Marjori replied. “Gangs roam the countryside.” She blinked at the dark man. “It will cause you discomfort?”
He merely made a face.
Lightly she touched his arm. “There are view ports we can open, have no fear.”
He nodded, turning away. Lowen noticed how he rubbed at the area Marjori’s fingers had landed on.
“Relax,” Torrullin murmured in his ear. “If we need to stop, we stop.”
Elianas remain wordless, but his shoulders lowered somewhat.
The interior was confined, with seating for six passengers and one for the driver, an Arness with the wildest hair anyone had there had ever seen. His name was Bahar and he would also prove to be the most taciturn individual in all realms.
Elianas hissed under his breath when he clambered into the small space and took a seat nearest the side door.
Sarahin had final words for them before they took off.
“Be wary of those who wear blue ribbons. They are convicts. It should be a clear run, though, because most avoid that region because of the dead city.” She inhaled and continued, “Marjori will pass on my greetings to Immirin, but I will appreciate anything you do to ease the relationship for us.”
Torrullin touched his forehead. “We shall do our best.”
“Thank you.” She shifted her attention to Elianas. “My grandmother was fortunate to know you. Go well, Elianas.”
He too touched his forehead. “I was the fortunate one. Stay well, Sarahin.”
The Daywalker then grinned at Lowen. “Good luck.”
Lowen laughed and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “This was quite the experience.’
Laughing, Sarahin closed the door and smacked the roof of the pod.
The driver took his cue, and they were underway.
Chapter 31
A symbol is as much identity as a name is able to confer
~ Awl ~
Kathin Arne
Achen Plains
GIANT MAROON MOUNTAINS squatted to the north, the pink snow a permanent feature according to Marjori.
Between the forest they had left behind beyond the outskirts of the city and those great rock edifices, a plain vast and otherworldly lay spread before them. From above its true topography would be more evident - an ancient caldera from a super volcano - but from their vantage a series of ridges led to a massive grassland.
Marjori had commanded the ports opened after half an hour of travel, having noticed Elianas’ tightly controlled expression, the whiteness settling in under his lower lip. The ports were not large, but they were numerous and one such circle was directly beside the dark man. He kept his gaze to the distances. It somewhat eased his tension.
No one spoke much, although Marjori pointed out features along the way. The craft was swift and ate the distance effortlessly. They saw no others upon the journey, and thus the view ports remained open.
Stopping only once for lunch and to ease cramped muscles, they realised the air was colder.
“We are further north,” Marjori revealed, “and the cold season is on approach.”
Nightfall loomed before there was sign of habitation. In the distance smoke wreathed in the air, a distance that would mean another half-day’s travel. The pilot refused to traverse the terrain in darkness and thus they halted for the night under an overhang screened with dense shrubbery.
Bahar, after eating from a ration pack, immediately lowered his seat and went to sleep. For him the day had been one of tension; he needed the rest for the day to come.
Torrullin, Elianas, Lowen and Marjori crowded around a tiny fire beneath the overhang, eating from a basket Sarahin had sent with them.
“It occurs to me there is enough space on Kathin Arne and more than enough of a natural world for the inadvertent entry of someone alien to have little impact on the atmosphere, no matter the mode of entry,” Torrullin said.
Elianas glanced at him. “I am thinking the same.”
Marjori listened hard.
“Immirin may be more directly responsible than we now assume,” Torrullin said. “Did she draw a concealment, do you think? The kind that would set off alarms if another such as she entered, to forewarn her? She sought to hide, after all, from the father of her brat.”
“You bloody Valleur sure know how to cause havoc,” Lowen muttered.
Torrullin lapsed into thoughtful mode. He sat on, staring into the flames, while the others found comfortable positions in which to sleep, including Elianas.
The dark man was exhausted.
WITH THE FIRST HINT of dawn showing in the green sky, they went on.
Closer, the smoke they saw the day before morphed into manifold chimneys spewing smelly trails of grey, brown and white.
The ports were open to allow air to flow and Lowen wrinkled her nose. “What are they burning?”
It was a massive settlement of stone cottages and twisting cobbled streets. City sized without high-rise buildings, there were clearly demarcated residential and commercial districts, but all was in the old style of living. A high wall surrounded the whole, with battlements and towers added to the edifice. It was meant as deterrent, but the place was too large to decently defend.
Their presence had been marked.
Bahar spoke for the second time since leaving Acinro. “Do we enter with the pod or do I drop you off?”
Marjori glanced at Torrullin.
“Drop us,” he said. “Take this craft to a safer place until Marjori summons you.”
Four men had left the guard tower to the left of a raised portcullis, and they were not friendly. All wore leather almost grey in the strange light of Kathin Arne. Given the nature of the settlement, the pod and its technology would be unwelcome.
“As he says, Bahar,” Marjori murmured.
The craft came to a halt a fair distance from the waiting men. It swung back the way they came the instant all had debarked.
“It’s like something from a story,” Marjori whispered, her gaze moving over wall and turrets.
Torrullin shrugged. “Steel and glass succumbs and a city thus vanishes; this is able to last ages longer. The wise build in this manner.”
“They do not appear too friendly,” Lowen muttered. “Can we leave city building to another time?”
Taking the lead, Torrullin strolled closer, calling out, “We are here to speak with Immirin Lorin!”
The four men raised spears.
“Who are you?” one asked.
“Where are you from?” another queried.
While their tones were neutral, their expressions were not.
“I have a message from Daywalker Sarahin,” Marjori stated as they halted a few feet away from sharp metal points. “My name is Marjori.”
The first man’s dark gaze raked her before he nodded. “Yes, you are clearly from Acinro.” He attention moved to Lowen in her dark breeches and tunic. “You dress like a man. You are not local.”
Lowen bristled, hearing censure, and Torrullin gripped her wrist before she said something stupid. One did not tell Lowen how to dress.
“We hail from Akhavar,” he stated. “Take us to Immirin.”
The second man had obviously heard of Akhavar. “A dead world, stranger! You lie.”
“It is restored,” Torrullin said equably. “This is news we need to share with …”
“Immirin does not need your news,” the third man snapped. “Take them to the dungeons.”
Elianas growled and placed his hand on his sword.
Six additional men rushed out from beyond the wall.
“Elianas, stand down,” Torrullin murmured.
“I am not entering a fucking dungeon again,” the dark man spat. He drew his sword.
Bedlam ensued.
A spear flew towards Elianas, which he deflected to rush in. Drawing his own blade, Torrullin hurtled in as well.
Bedlam was short-lived; four men shifted past the melee and gripped the two women. “Cease! Or they die now!”
Elianas, cursing to high Aaru, dropped his sword first and lifted his arms. Muttering about foolishness, Torrullin likewise relinquished his weapon.
“Take these swords to Immirin,” Torrullin said. “She will know who we are when she sees them. Anaho Aleru will know also.”
Three of the men glanced at each other, before one cautiously retrieved the blades. Walking backwards, he entered the city, where he swiftly turned to vanish into the distance with them. Torrullin tracked him until he was out of sight. He had no intention of leaving this place swordless.
“Take them to the dungeons,” the man who had spoken initially uttered. “Do not harm them. Immirin will decide their fate.”
AFTER A SWIFT MARCH along a narrow street, their captors shoved them through the sagging doorway of a filthy building.
While the guards named it as dungeons, it was no more than a row of cells at ground level. They were clean; appearances outside were clearly deceiving.
“Doable,” Elianas muttered as he and Torrullin were shoved into the same space.
The women occupied the cell next to them. Only bars separated the two holding areas. Candles lit the interior into warmth, a semblance only, for it was draughty and cold. The women huddled together on a bare bunk, while Elianas and Torrullin paced for heat.
Four burly men kept watch near the door. Hard as it was to tell of which race they were, it was also clear they were not local. The Arness they had encountered in the city wore their maroon-hued hair cropped; these men possessed long grey ropes. Their eyes spoke of longer than usual years also.
A woman in an ornate gown entered, fastidiously wiping her feet. Her posture immediately brought to mind the hologram image viewed on Avaelyn.
Immirin had chosen to personally visit, and without too much delay.
A veil covered her face as it had in the hologram, but golden hair trailed thick over her shoulders. She wafted both hands at the guards and, again, each finger wore an intricate ring.
“Leave us,” she commanded.
The men bowed and vacated the space.
Immirin approached the bars holding aloft her hands with her wrists on display to them. Her sleeves slithered to her elbows, revealing tanned golden skin. The two snakes tattoo wound around her left wrist and the tiny dragon sat on her right forearm.
“I assume you are aware this reveals my identity.”
Torrullin inclined his head.
Lifting her veil to reveal an ageless Golden face of some beauty and much intelligence, she studied each in turn - Lowen and Marjori had risen to stand at the bars - before her gaze rested on Elianas. “You have returned, Danae.”
Elianas’ touched his forehead.
“Are you not pleased your name still has no power to move mountains upon Kathin Arne?”
His jaw tightened briefly. “I am relieved.”
Smiling, Immirin’s gaze shifted to Torrulli
n. “And you have brought the Lorinin.”
Torrullin returned an impassive stare.
“Your swords, as you suspected, revealed to me your identity. Trezond and Eurue, how remarkable. Thus we now know each other. Why have you come?” she barked at Torrullin.
He remained calm. “To talk to you.”
“Why?”
“Your son is …”
Immirin stumbled back and her face lost its golden tinge to become ashen. “He was locked away.”
Torrullin drew a breath, aware of her utter shock. “He broke out.”
She waved the cell doors open. “I shall not speak of him where ears may hear.” She stepped back, one hand upon her breast. “Forgive me. Know you are free here. We have become beyond paranoid in the last century or two.”
Torrullin moved from the cell first, gesturing for Lowen and Marjori to follow suit. Elianas came to rest at his shoulder.
“Follow me.” Immirin swung around and strode from the prison.
With the women between them, they followed.
HER HOME WAS LARGE and airy, set back from the main gathering of smaller cottages. A small lake rippled green at the back of the stone house; regal black swans patrolled. Elianas blinked rapidly when he noted the birds. A massive table surrounded by beautifully upholstered chairs reposed before large picture windows. Two blades lay there.
“Your swords,” Immirin gestured. “Please sit.”
Torrullin held the chair at the head of the table open for her and, when she was seated, he sat to her right. Lowen flopped in beside him, sending Elianas a wink.
The dark man shook his head and sat opposite Torrullin, with Marjori filling the seat beside him. He leaned in, separated the swords to send one at Torrullin. His own he set vertical next to his chair.
“Rivalen’s power was stripped from him and he was sent into a forbidden realm, one meant to bind him for all time,” Immirin said in an emotionless tone.
“He became a timedancer there,” Torrullin murmured, “and used the flows to draw to him genetics familiar to us.” He indicated himself and Elianas.
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