The Kallanon Scales (71 page)

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Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #action and adventure, #sci fi fantasy, #apocalyptic fantasy, #sci fi action, #sci fi and apocalyptic, #epic fantasy dark fantasy fantasy action adventure paranormal dragon fantasy

BOOK: The Kallanon Scales
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Skye and Lowen
lay on a pallet, pretending sleep, but both kept an eye on Cat.

Cat was
devastated, sitting beside her brother. Her face betrayed no
emotion, but her hands locked together. She did not look at
Torrullin, staring instead with fixation at the floor. When Matt
told her to lie down, she did not react.

Taranis felt
sorry for her. He had not realised the depth of her feelings. She
was not to blame, and he admitted Torrullin was not to blame
either. He felt abandoned by Saska, in need of companionship. A man
abandoned by a wife seeking warmth elsewhere was not at fault.

His thoughts turned to Saska and he felt faint.
Let me not reveal what this return means to
me.

Tristamil,
filled in by Quilla, was tense as well, wondering firstly if Saska
would come to his father’s aid, and therefore Teighlar’s, and thus
prevent that guilt festering, and secondly, how she would react to
him, Tristamil, whether she would know him now, and forgive him for
years of silence over Tymall.

The Great Hall
was ramshackle with pallets, tables, dishes, packs and clothes
strewn where deemed comfortable, some of it their own, some created
by the two Enchanters earlier, and some from Grinwallin’s storage.
A fireplace smoked, spat, and was no more than a ring of stones
haphazardly conceived. People, Dragons and Q’lin’la lay or sat in
various poses under the steady glow of the hall.

Teighlar
rested in peaceful repose in the shadows, Matt had crossed the
Emperor’s hands over his chest.

The arches
remained unsealed with night’s coming - those on the plateau knew
their position. Torrullin desired them open and accessible for
Saska.

It was
cold.

As night wore
on the lights and fires on the plateau extinguished until faint
moonlight highlighted the silent ranks of Murs and Mysor. The still
air brought the sound of clicking.

“Taranis,”
Vannis whispered. “I do not think she is coming. Torrullin needs to
rest.”

“You try and
tell him.”

Vannis shook
his head and lay back with closed eyes.

“I thought
not,” Taranis muttered.

Torrullin
stopped to have a word with the soldiers, spoke at length with
Camot, engaged Abdiah in discussion, giving her a fuller telling of
Neolone’s death, and conversed with Quilla and Phet. He avoided
Taranis and Vannis pretending rest and bent to talk with Skye and
Lowen, after which the girl slept.

Caltian was in
conversation with Key-ler and Krikian ,and he avoided them as well
as he skirted Tristamil’s alert gaze. He wandered often to
Teighlar’s side and then outside to stare into the dark.

Finally, he
knew he could not avoid Cat.

 

 

She did not
react when he hunkered before her.

“Leave her,
Torrullin,” Matt said.

“Cat. Can we
talk?”

“Jesus, what
is there to say?” Matt growled. “Your wife is coming.”

“I have
summoned the Lady of Life. Whether I have a marriage is debatable,”
Torrullin said, looking at Cat.

She looked up.
“We’ve said it all.”

“And we avoid
each other and there is enmity. We can at least try for a
truce.”

She smiled.
“We are at war?”

“Have been
from the start.” He smiled back.

Her smile
widened. “Okay. Truce.”

“I would like
to talk to you in private.”

“Cat,” Matt
said.

“It’s all
right, bro,” she murmured, patting his arm. “We’ll be over there.”
“She waved vaguely to the right.

Torrullin rose
and she unwound her tenseness and preceded him to where they would
not be overheard. They faced each other and Torrullin waved part of
the light away, throwing them into shadow.

“Everyone
reads my expression.”

“You are never
alone, are you?”

“Rarely. Most
of the time I feel like a recalcitrant child.”

“Yeah,
everyone needs downtime.”

“Speaking from
experience?”

“Xen is no
picnic, a ship is by nature without privacy, and then there is
Matt. Bless him, but he can be over-protective, and too
judgemental.”

“He
cares.”

“I know, so I
don’t wriggle too hard. This isn’t why you want to talk. Are you
okay? After the Dragon thing?”

“No.”

“It was hard?”
her gaze was compassionate.

“It turned out
different to expectation.”

“And you hate
being surprised?”

“I do not
enjoy being off-guard.”

Despite the
shadows, they could see each other. The muted light softened planes
and smoothed expression, but did not hide everything. Torrullin’s
eyes were silver and Cat’s were darker than ever. He donned a fresh
tunic, the severe cut emphasised his shoulders, and Cat closed her
eyes on them and looked at the floor.

She felt like
scuffling her feet, feeling like the child he mentioned. Everyone
watched and she wondered what they saw.

“This isn’t
private enough.”

Silence and
then, “It is all I dare.”

She looked up
into his eyes, and laughed. “Ah, Torrullin, say what you will, you
affect me. This mission must end soon or I’ll go crazy.”

“It will end
very soon. Days.”

Her heart
hammered. “And then?”

“Back to
Valaris. Leave the Valleur of Atrudis to recover.”

“But you are
their Vallorin.”

“A rumour of a
Vallorin. I will return periodically, but Valaris is my home.”

“Maybe they’ll
want to come with you, have you thought of that? Atrudis is
destroyed.”

“Valaris saw
far worse and recovered well. This world is able to do so. Valleur
from Valaris will come and the Guardians can be called in. I cannot
bring Atrudisins to Valaris, not in number, not even if they ask
it, for that would result in a Valleur majority, and eventually
there will be strife. History will not be repeated or we have
learned nothing.”

Cat sighed.
“There is so much you have to consider.”

“The curse of
leadership.” He added with a smile, “There are joys also.”

“You are
beautiful when you smile.”

His smile
vanished. “Cat, no.”

“Don’t worry,
I’m not going to jump you.” When he offered no response, she
whistled. “What is the bet you were imagining that?”

Torrullin
grinned. “You are forthright, I like you.”

She
grimaced.

“I will not
deny there is attraction here, but I refuse to hurt you with empty
promises. I have no idea what the future holds and even if I knew
with certainty …”

“I’m
mortal.”

“Yes, but more
than that, I love my wife.”

“Even if you
two separate permanently?”

“Forever is
long. Who knows what lies ahead?”

“What about
the present, Torrullin? With so much time, surely you must grab at
the now? My God, it must drive you mad.”

“You have no
idea.”

She was
silent.

“I did not
know it would be like this. I wanted to be around to meet my
immortal father, and began the cycle of rebirth, only to find it
was hell. The present is but a step into the next moment; what is
there to hold onto, really?”

“And therefore
you love where time will not pass it by.”

“It can fail
when there is too much time.”

“It’s all
right. Leave it, leave us in the past.”

One shoulder
lifted. “I have no choice, and I shall tell her about you. I am not
going to skulk in guilt and avoid your eyes whenever she is about.
I refuse to hide and I shall not lie.”

“That is what
you wanted to talk about,” Cat understood.

“Yes. Prepare
yourself.”

“When will you
tell her?”

“That depends
on how it will go. I guess when the moment is right or we have
enough privacy, despite the situation between us.” He rubbed his
eyes.

Cat’s heart
constricted and she laid her hands over his, drawing them aside. He
drew a slow breath and turned his hands palm up to clasp hers.

“Torrullin,
I’m a friend. If you need to talk, ever, anytime, I can hear
you.”

“And this
electricity?”

“So we don’t
touch. My ears will still be here.”

“Look, but
don’t touch, do not dare touch.” He released her hands.

She clasped
her arms over her chest.

He managed a
smile. “Thank you for your friendship, Cat.” He lightly touched her
cheek. “I shall treasure you.” His hand dropped away. “Get some
rest, tomorrow is a big day.”

“Will she come
tonight?”

He closed his
eyes. “No.” He ran a hand through his short hair and turned away.
“I must go.”

She
nodded.

 

 

Morning came
with agonising slowness, dragged reluctantly from the clutches of
night, and when it came, it arrived with little light and was
cold.

“Snow,”
Caltian said to no one in particular.

Torrullin
breathed deep of the biting air, feeling it sear his lungs, glad of
it, for it meant he was alive and real. He felt light-headed
distant, and knew he had to root himself to function this day.

Vannis
approached, stretching and yawning. “What a night.”

“We have had
worse.”

“You are
avoiding me.”

“I am avoiding
myself.”

Vannis braced
beside Torrullin. “What are our buddies up to this morning?”
Together they gazed down.

The cloud
cover was low and tendrils of mist wove through them. It was
extraordinarily quiet, a sense of waiting prevailed.

Torrullin
swore inaudibly.

“Talk to me,”
Vannis said.

There was
silence for a long while, which Vannis waited out.

“I thought I
did it in chapters, Vannis, and now know I had it wrong. Life as a
boy, as a beggar, an aristocrat, a pirate and so on. Rayne, finding
you, then Taranis, Margus, the twins, Saska, and recently Neolone.
Deal with each and move on. The twins are not a chapter, will never
be, and Saska will weave in and out of my life always, Neolone will
remain as part of our long history and Margus has returned to haunt
me. He has haunted me for twenty-six years and now I know why. Last
night my head was so full of him, the Dragon almost won.”

“It is over,
my boy.”

“A child
again. I mean no offence. Yes, Neolone is dead, but it was too
close.”

“You knew it
would be, and you did what you set out to do.”

“I did
not.”

“How so?”

“I did
struggle with the outcome of this mission, until my boys were
taken. Then I knew I wanted him gone and through all the days to
this point, I never deviated from that, until last night. Vannis,
from my soul, had Caltian not been there, you and I would not now
be having this conversation.”

“Where would
you be?”

“With Neolone,
wherever.”

Vannis drew
breath and said, “I refuse to believe that.”

Torrullin
barked a laugh.

“Tris is
…”

“Tris was not
in the cavern, I would have thrown it all away.”

“Was he evil,
as foretold?”

“He never had
the opportunity to reveal himself.”

“You sound
disappointed.”

“An
anti-climax.”

“You cannot second-guess, Torrullin. It
is
over.”

Eventually
Torrullin nodded. “Yes, thank the gods, it is over, and Caltian was
there. I knew I had to keep him close, although I did not fully
understand why.”

“There is your
answer. Something within put the necessary foil in place. You won,
because you prepared for the eventuality of failing.”

“I hadn’t
thought of it that way.”

Vannis grinned
and gripped Torrullin’s shoulder. “Then speak to the greybeard when
in doubt, he will set you straight.”

Reluctantly
Torrullin laughed. “It was still an anti-climax.”

“Teighlar
died, Torrullin.”

“Due to brute
force. He had nothing to defend himself with. I am not one for
theatrics, but I would have liked to see Neolone blasted to kingdom
come and Teighlar use his power to do something good.”

“We are
sorcerers, son, we need it to feel worthy. We do not deal in the
ordinary. Despite what you think, we are by nature theatrical.”

“Vain,”
Torrullin mused.

“Arrogant.”

Torrullin
glanced sideways at his grandfather. “Very Valleur.”

“Exactly.”

“Torrullin!”

“Taranis
comes,” Vannis sighed.

“Problem?”

“He is
suddenly too accommodating.”

Torrullin bit
back laughter and faced his father. “Taranis?”

“Do not humour
me this morning, boy,” Taranis snapped. “You need to get your
marbles in place and quickly. We cannot wait for …”

“Not so
accommodating,” Vannis whispered inaudibly.

Torrullin
frowned. “I know Saska will not be here. Don’t humour me
either.”

“Fine. She is
not coming and we need to concentrate on that rabble below.”

Vannis said,
“It occurs to me that the Murs have no real reason to be here. No
Dragon, no evil to control. It is moot.”

“Perhaps they
can be prevailed upon to leave,” Taranis murmured.

“They are
Murs,” Bartholamu said. He approached. “Do not expect them to leave
quietly.”

“Perhaps some
theatrics are in order,” Torrullin remarked.

“What have you
in mind, Enchanter?” Quilla chirped.

It was turning
into an impromptu war council, for Abdiah’s bulk exited the arches
and with her, Caltian, Phet and Tristamil. Torrullin waited for
them and put his hand in his pocket.

“The Dragon
may be gone, but this is here.” He drew the Taliesman out and held
it out on his palm. “Do not touch it. Neolone’s power resides
within. Now that he has been separated, this coin can no longer
simply be held.”

“How are you
planning to use it against the Murs?” Vannis asked. The object
fascinated him.

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