The Nemesis Blade (12 page)

“Declan?”

Saska’s voice,
full of surprise and pleasure.

He brought his
emotions under control, and smiled.

Gods, she was
beautiful and, damn, she suited this place. Her bluish hair and
emerald eyes blended with the coolness of the haven, like a muse of
this world. She wore a trailing, pale blue gown, and was a vision
even a blind man could appreciate.

“Saska!”
Declan laughed and opened his arms to her. He surprised even
himself, for he was not generally given to displays of
affection.

She laughed
and came into his arms without reservation. They had known each
other a long time.

“It’s good to
see you, my friend,” she whispered, squeezing him, and then let go
to wipe wet cheeks. “Silly me, crying like a baby.”

Declan
swallowed. “It is good to see you.” He gestured around, to give
both of them a chance to recover. “You have worked a miracle.”

“I can’t take
full credit,” she smiled. “Not only did I have help, but this place
seemed to take itself back to what it was once attention was
bestowed upon it. Caballa and I think it is part of Nemisin’s
legacy. And it is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I do not have
words,” Declan murmured and focused on her again. “You are more
beautiful than I have ever seen you, Saska. You are a vision and I
believe it is this wondrous place that gifts …” He blushed and
looked away. “I do not know how to properly compliment a woman
anymore.”

She laid a
cool hand on his burning cheek. “Thank you.”

He smiled.
“You belong here.”

A shadow
flitted into her eyes, and was gone. “Thank you.”

“He would see
what I see.”

She forced a
smile. “One day, perhaps.” Then she was again the Saska who entered
into his presence with surprise and pleasure. She took his hand and
tugged. “Come, I must show you everything!”

Laughing, he
allowed himself to be led away.

Inside, he
called Torrullin the biggest fool in the universe.

“This place is
amazing,” she said as she led Declan around.

“There are
kitchen areas, communal regions, suites, private gardens,
libraries, sport facilities, theatres …” She laughed. “You name it,
it’s here! There was a lot of debris to clear away at first, but
the integrity of the chambers were not undermined. A shore up here,
a new beam there, but nothing we could not handle. And once we
began cleaning out cobwebs and the like and swept away dust, we
found these incredible murals and all manner of containers for
plants and, well, plants we put in! Then we discovered the canal
system running throughout the complex and it was simple enough to
track it back to an underground supply, which, by the way, fills up
regularly and …”

“Whoa!” Declan
exclaimed, laughing at her enthusiasm. “Too much detail!”

“Sorry, it’s
inspiring,” Saska grinned. “We haven’t done more than restore what
was, of course, and only brought a few home comforts for the areas
we occupy.” She was wistful. “This place needs people, Declan, lots
of them, and people bring and make their own beautiful things to
fill glorious surroundings. You know?”

“I do.”

“Anyway, it is
ready.”

“An
outstanding achievement. As a matter of interest, did you uncover
anything relating to Nemisin?”

“Yes, we did,
and the Dragon Neolone.”

“Really?”
Declan paused and then could not help it, “I would like to see
that.”

She gave a
rueful laugh. “I thought as much. This way.”

Saska led him
across a sunny courtyard, through a cool chamber sporting an ornate
fireplace, and on into a library. There were no books, but the
shelves were self-evident. They passed through there and many
others until she led him into a huge domed cavern.

It exuded the
spiritual, and he came to a halt. Everything was of blue stone and
the floor was without seam or join. It was akin to entering a
cathedral.

“We call it
the Chamber of Biers.”

He saw why. In
recesses high and low, surrounding the entire space, were biers,
each slotted neatly into position, each of the same blue stone.

The ancient
Valleur dead, by god.

“We did
nothing here,” Saska whispered. “It was as it is now.”

Declan’s gaze
was drawn to the single bier resting in the exact centre of the
cathedral cavern. “Nemisin?”

“Nemisin,” she
confirmed, and followed as he wandered over to it.

It was no
different from the others. The same incredible blue stone, the same
simplicity, the cool sense of history. Declan drew breath as he
came to rest beside it. It looked as new now as it must have
then.

Saska said
nothing, allowing him to find his way to the inscription, and when
he found it he drew a sharp breath.

He bent over
it to be certain, but there was no doubt. First there was an
engraved likeness of Nemisin - his face and shoulders - and then
came his name - flowing, formal Valleur glyphs - and then the
epitaph. Below that, another, in a different hand. It was more
roughly done, as if the inscriber hurried in his task.

“Gods,” he
muttered. He lifted eyes full of astonishment to Saska. “Am I
seeing right?”

She
nodded.

Declan was
drawn back to the bier. “I wonder if Torrullin has seen this?”

“I doubt it.
The entrances were blocked.”

“He need not
have come in person. A seer can see backwards also,” the Siric
muttered, and did not see her shiver. “Nemisin and Torrullin are
like … twins. I wonder if that is why the Valleur took him to their
hearts? An unknown entity, a half-blood, the Vallorin? They should
have given him a hard time and yet he was one of them from the
first moment. Valleur memories, hmm?”

“Probably,”
Saska murmured.

“’
Here lies
Nemisin, First Father of the mighty Valleur, Vallorin, father,
healer, enchanter, creator of the Golden Throne. May our beloved
rest in eternal peace.’
” Declan looked up. “These dates make no
sense.”

“How long do
you think he was interred here?” Saska pointed out.

The Siric
blanched. “Gods, that is old.”

Saska quoted,
“’
Year 792 to 4999, Epoch of the Dancing Suns’.
He was over
four thousand years old when he died.”

“The Epoch of
the Dancing Suns is legendary and refers to the time when Time was
yet to be counted,” Declan whispered.

Saska gave a
laugh. “The Valleur, Masters of the Universe.”

“Deservedly
so,” Declan muttered. “And this rough scribble?”

“We suspect
Neolone.”

He bent over
it, intrigued. “’
Here lies the man of power who gave power to
his descendants in a mighty symbiosis. Revere his name, as you will
revere the One to come.’
”

Declan
whistled. It was signed with a stylised ‘N’. It could only be the
Dragon Neolone, who was in symbiosis with Nemisin and then moved on
to the son upon this father’s death … until he reached Torrullin,
the One. Neolone returned here to inscribe this for future
generations.

“I wonder what
the Valleur made of this particular codicil?”

“Ask Torrullin
the seer,” Saska muttered.

Declan looked
up.

“Sorry. This
place gives me the creeps. Can we go?” Saska muttered.

The Siric
nodded.

She sighed and
left immediately, with Declan trailing out more slowly.

“Is Caballa
with you?” he asked ten minutes later.

He gaped at
every new and incredible sight.

“She comes and
goes, but she is here at present.” Saska was silent a few paces and
then, “Do you think he knows we are here?”

“He
knows.”

“Ah.” It was a
pained sound.

“Saska …”

“It’s all
right. Tell me, how is Lowen?”

She just put
him smack in the middle. “Lowen is missing.”

Saska came to
a dead stop. “She left him?”

Declan stared
at his feet, his hands, arguing with himself. He should say
nothing, but he liked and loved this woman; Saska was once an
Immortal Guardian, as he was, and was a friend. He looked up.

“They were
never really together. If they spent six months in each other’s
company in the past twenty-five years, I would be surprised.”

“That’s not
good.”

“Very
strange.”

“No, I meant
it doesn’t bode well for … reconciliation.”

The Siric was
at a loss. “I am sorry?”

“Gods, Declan,
it means he hasn’t got her out of his system, don’t you see
that?”

He opened his
mouth. Closed it.

“So she did
leave him?”

“Yes.”

“Good for
her.” Saska grimaced.

“About ten
years ago.”

“What?” Saska
snapped and then paled. “Ten years … and nothing? Not a darkened
doorway, for pity’s sake?” Then she gave a wry snort. “What did I
tell you? She’s not yet in his past.”

Now he did see
what she meant; it explained much. “She is missing, Saska, not just
gone from him. Really missing. The entire Kaval is mobilised to
find her. That is why I am here.”

“The entire
Kaval? How … caring … of him.”

He understood
her anger, but chose to ignore it. “She is lost to Time. We suspect
she was either coerced or fell accidentally through a portal that
took her back, but how far back, we do not know.”

“He can do the
time thing.”

“Where does he
start? And when does he go back to?”

Saska drew
breath. “Oh.”

“Exactly. And
at the same time we have heard disturbing rumours concerning
Sanctuary, the Kaval and Torrullin. It appears folk out there hear
tales of a growing force on Sanctuary, one that aims to carve out
three kingdoms in the universe, one for each Valla heir. Torrullin
believes the two are linked. Lowen vanished because she knows
something about these rumours.”

“It wasn’t an
accident, her vanishing.”

Declan
straightened. “Damn me … no.”

“I may want to
scratch her eyes out, but
I
want to. I wish her no other
harm. She must be petrified somewhere.” Then Saska frowned. “How
could I help? I’m isolated here … ah, it’s Caballa you seek.”

“No, it is
both of you.”

Saska
shrugged. “Still don’t see how I can help, and what is your mission
exactly?”

Declan gave a
grimace. “I am to find Agnimus.”

“You’re
joking!”

“I wish that
were so.”

“Agnimus? Not
only has he completely disappeared, but how can he possibly
help?”

“He is an
Ancient. Torrullin probably reckons he may know something about
time shifts.”

“Or is behind
it; I see.”

“There is
that.”

“I know
nothing of Agnimus’ whereabouts.”

“But maybe you
found something here to point the way. Agnimus is of Nemisin’s
recalcitrance, and it may be hidden in here.”

Saska shook
her head and started walking again. “Nothing on darklings, nothing
on vengeful essences and nothing on Nemisin’s enchantments either.
This place is wholesome, except for the dead and their biers.”

Declan sighed.
“It was worth a try.”

“Caballa may
have seen something in her visions.”

“That is my
hope, yes.”

Saska
continued walking and both were now blind to the beautiful
surroundings. “Three kingdoms? Is that what folk say? How stupid
can they be?”

“Tristan is
already a respected figure and Teroux is so Golden he is god-like
to strangers. Tianoman is volatile and shows signs of being a great
ruler, if purely because he has a knack for shaking things up.
Three Vallas, and only one may rule? What of the other two? Surely
they would desire rulership? They have been raised up to expect it.
You and I know lines will be drawn, but others cannot trust it.
Thus rumour feels like truth.”

She nodded.
“If a force is suspected on Sanctuary, someone - like bloody
Agnimus - may prepare a countering army.”

“Chaim
investigates the possibility as we speak.”

“The Kaval,
then, are not all looking for Lowen.”

“It is
connected. All intelligence will form a picture Torrullin will use
to determine an entrance time.”

Silence.

“Saska?”

She sighed.
“It occurred to me how easy it would be for the two of them to stay
lost out there.”

“Torrullin has
made promises he intends to keep. He will be back.”

“Then I wish
she stays lost,” Saska muttered. She threw her hands in the air.
“Ignore that. He’ll never return to me if she remains missing … and
I don’t wish that fate on her.”

They walked on
in silence.

Eventually they
entered a chamber with the look of a farmhouse kitchen, one used
frequently by the aromas.

A large
central workspace held dishes and fresh vegetables. A woodstove
further back had a boiling pot of something extraordinarily
aromatic - a meat stew of some kind, said Declan’s nose, and his
stomach rumbled. Copper pots and pans hung from hooks, as did
bundles of herbs. A large basin and counter contained all manner of
clean crockery and cutlery. It was a working kitchen, and welcomed
him like a prodigal son.

Saska grinned
at his expression. “Caballa’s special and there’s bound to be
enough.”

“Thank you,
Lady Goddess.”

“She’s
probably through there.” Saska pointed out a sunny herb garden
beyond the kitchen and beyond that a sitting room beckoned with
comfort.

Declan
frowned, squinting. “I thought it was just the two of you.” He
could see far more than one form moving in the sitting room.

“Initially,
yes, but others have come. Lily sent a Minean girl who thinks she
may be the future Lady and there is … well, come meet them.”

He followed
her through the herb garden and into the chamber beyond. It was
large and there were islands of armchairs. Tall plants in beautiful
containers, bright rugs on the stone floor, a massive fireplace and
books. And a scattering of people, mostly women.