The Nemesis Blade (51 page)

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Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #dark fantasy, #time travel, #apocalyptic, #swords and sorcery, #realm travel

BOOK: The Nemesis Blade
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Torrullin
nodded.

Presario rose.
“My Lord, you set him up to fail!”

Still
Torrullin said nothing.

“Why?”
Tianoman asked again.

Torrullin
hunkered. “Because I know you can do this, because you have your
father’s power, because I want them to see, if you are chosen as
Vallorin, there is good reason for that choice. You are young only
in years.”

Tianoman
swallowed. “You suggest most regard me as an afterthought for
Vallorin.”

“And you are
not. This is to level the playing field.”

“Many will not
like that I can do this.”

Torrullin
shrugged. “If you are Vallorin they will love you for it.”

Tianoman
laughed. “You can be devious.”

Torrullin rose
to his feet. “Now, Tianoman.”

The young
Valla stared up a moment longer and then closed his eyes. An
unintelligible mutter rolled off his tongue and a long minute of
silent concentration followed. He opened his eyes.

“Done.”

Torrullin
pointed at four Valleur at random. “Check his claim.”

All four
closed their eyes and then one at a time confirmed the cloaked
status of the Round Temple, the Tower of Stairs, the Sacred Pool
and the Square Pyramid. West, north, south and east, in that order
- a further statement.

Torrullin
returned to the dais. “I confirm those sites are cloaked.” Only
silence answered him. “Do not look so horrified, Valleur. Do you
want a child or a man after this?”

A few smiled
and then everyone cheered. Tianoman slumped in relief.

Torrullin
lifted his hand. “The sites are again operational.”

The four who
were asked to check stared up in wonder.

“We are done
here, my friends. Greet Tianoman as a new adult!”

The cheering
then was sustained and a huge smile broke over Tianoman’s face.

Vanar and
Yiddin thumped the dais. “Thrice welcome, Tianoman!”

The Keep
reverberated.

At the table
Tristan and Teroux breathed out, tension easing. Damn it, that was
close. They glanced at each other, both thinking how glad they were
Torrullin had not presented them. Then they were on their feet and
hurtling over the table. They grabbed Tianoman, snapped his
bindings free and lifted him high above their heads. Laughter and
cheering mingled into a massive wave of sound.

Torrullin
transferred his attention to Quilla, who nodded once and vanished
with the stones.

Declan and
Belun looked at each other and chose to leave also.

Torrullin
flicked a glance to Saska and found her watching him with an
unreadable expression.

He looked
away.

Chapter 37

 

Pretty
trinkets you have there, pedlar. What is your price?

~ Tattle

 

 

Valaris

 

T
he revelry went on unabated
downstairs, but Torrullin sat alone in his study, the lights low,
his desk empty.

Not even a
fire warmed his mood. He earlier asked Sirlasin to sober Tianoman
up enough for a meeting, and now waited.

Where had he
found the stones?

How had he
known they would have meaning?

Did he know
they had meaning to Elixir?

A giggle
outside the door and then a quick rap.

“Enter.”

Sirlasin came
in carrying Tianoman haphazardly over his shoulder. “Forgive me, my
Lord, I could not sober him up.”

A smile tugged
at Torrullin’s lips. “It’s all right. Put him in that chair.”

Sirlasin
dumped his burden into the armchair next to the small
fireplace.

“Thank you.
Leave us.”

Sirlasin bowed
and left.

Torrullin
studied Tianoman. Glazed eyes, moronic grin. Definitely drunk. His
plaits had unravelled and his hair stood in a cloud about his head,
his tunic was spattered in food and drink, but he at least had the
foresight to put leggings on under it. Hopefully he took the beaded
loincloth off in time.

He rose from
behind his desk and touched Tianoman’s forehead. It would not take
his drunkenness away entirely - that would be unfair, considering
this was his party - but it would make him lucid.

Tianoman
straightened and cleared his throat. “Where am I? Oh.”

“I need to
talk to you.”

Tianoman
sniffed and wiped his hand self-consciously over his face. “Gods, I
must look a mess.”

“Indeed.”

Hands smoothed
hair and tunic and he sat up properly. He did not quite succeed. “I
guess you want to know about the stones.”

“Hmm.”
Torrullin lifted a hand and sealed the room.

Tianoman
muttered, “Did you know rock can make noise?”

Torrullin
blinked. “What kind of noise?”

“Sometimes
just noise, sometimes like music.”

“Incredible.
Words?”

“Yes,
sometimes, but in languages I don’t always understand.”

“Did words
draw you to the five stones?”

“No, no, not
like that.”

“Tian … how?
Come, think.”

Tianoman
attempted to concentrate. “Samuel’s gift wasn’t fitting - I
collected seeds from other worlds, you know? Vegetables and flowers
we don’t have here, and I wanted to build him a hydroponic tunnel
to grow them in …” He fell silent, losing his train of thought.

“Samuel would
have been pleased with such a thoughtful gift.”

Tianoman
brightened. “Yes, I think so, too, but he’s gone. I miss him
terribly.”

“We all do,”
Torrullin said. “Thus you had three days to find a new gift.”

“I had no idea
what to do and then I remembered the stones can talk sometimes … so
I asked.”

“Where did you
ask?”

“Where? Oh, on
Valla Island. We didn’t go anywhere at first, did we? And then we
came here.”

“True.”

“A snatch of
song, that’s all …” Tianoman was falling asleep and Torrullin
snapped his fingers. “Wha … oh, yes, song. I couldn’t get it out of
my head, that song.” He frowned. “It’s gone now.”

Torrullin
exercised patience. “What happened?”

“Here, in the
valley, I was walking with Teroux. He went one way, I went towards
the Morinnes and I couldn’t get the song out of my head. I sat on a
boulder, or was it the verge? Never mind. As I sat I sang the song
aloud, really loud, heard the echoes against the mountains. I fell
asleep, Teroux was frantic, the idiot … anyway, I awoke and there
they were, those five perfect stones. They seemed to want me to
pick them up, so I did and all I could think was, it was the gift I
was looking for. They seemed to say ‘Elixir, Elixir’.”

Torrullin
sighed. Tianoman had merely been a conduit, thank Aaru. A bright
conduit, for he heard them, but only a pawn in someone else’s game.
“It is a wonderful gift and I am glad you recognised that.”

A drunken
grin. “Ta.”

“Did Teroux
see them?”

“No, it
would’ve spoiled the surprise.”

“Good.”
Torrullin touched Tianoman’s forehead. “You won’t remember this.”
He leaned back. “Having a good party, son?”

Tianoman
blinked. “Ah, yes … shit, I must really be pissed, I don’t remember
coming up here.”

“Sirlasin
brought you up. He thought you needed to sleep for a while, only he
couldn’t carry your weight all the way to your bed.”

“Bloody
Sirlasin,” Tianoman muttered.

“Go, rejoin
your friends, but, hangover or not, in the morning you and I are on
our way to Digilan.”

Tianoman’s
mouth dropped open, but he was too far gone to compute that. He
raised a shaking finger and stared at it, fascinated. “Right.”

“Damn, you’re
going to puke,” Torrullin muttered and manhandled him out of the
door, holding him as he doubled over and retched onto the
balcony.

Footsteps
sounded and Torrullin looked up to find Tristan stumbling closer;
he was not much better. Teroux had probably already passed out.

Tristan
laughed. “He’s at that stage, is he?”

“You’re not
far off.”

“No, I can
hold my drink …” and then, as Tianoman hurled again, Tristan turned
puce. The sounds Tianoman made set him off and his stomach rebelled
… all over the balcony.

“You two will
clean this up in the morning.”

Torrullin
gripped Tianoman’s collar, found Tristan’s, and dragged both along
to Tianoman’s room.

“Time to sleep
it off.”

He got them
onto the big bed and had barely removed shoes before both snored in
drunken slumber.

He grinned;
they would hate what they found in the morning.

 

 

It would be
another clear day, but the sun barely showed itself when Tianoman
walked into the dining chamber.

He found
Torrullin there, drinking coffee. Sitting carefully, he asked,
“When do we go?”

Torrullin
studied him. Washed, dressed, and with a pounding headache.

“Have
something to eat first.”

Tianoman
nodded and then swore, holding his head.

“Come here - I
need you clear-headed.” Tianoman rose. “Kneel.” He knelt with
difficulty. Torrullin laid his hands on that fair head. “There. Now
eat. God knows what Digilan has to offer.”

Tianoman moved
his head experimentally. “Gone. Thanks.”

“First and
last time, my friend. You want to get that pissed, you suffer the
consequences.”

Tianoman
laughed. “Fine by me.” He proceeded to eat a hearty breakfast.
“Where’s Teroux?” He had, of course, discovered Tristan snoring
beside him, both of them spattered with vomit. Not a pleasant
sight, or smell.

“He found his
bed eventually.”

“Gods, what a
party.”

Torrullin
laughed and drank his coffee.

“Where did
Saska sleep?”

The mug
slammed onto the table. “You really should have some tact,
Tianoman.”

The young man
was instantly contrite. “Sorry.”

Saska, in
fact, chose to room with Caballa, but he was not about to expound
on it to Tianoman. Bloody child. “Forget it. Is Tristan still
sleeping?”

“He was when I
left.”

“Eat up. We
leave in a few minutes.”

Torrullin rose
and left the room and made his way to Tianoman’s room where Tristan
was indeed still fast asleep. He shook the man.

“Tristan!”

When that had
no effect he muttered an oath and was forced again to use his power
to bring about lucidity.

Tristan
struggled up and sniffed. “What’s that smell?”

“You,”
Torrullin said. “Never mind that. Tristan, what happened to
Trezond?”

“It’s at the
manor. My father stated in his will to return it to you. I forgot,
I’m sorry.”

“I need it
now.”

“For
Digilan?”

“Among others,
yes.”

“What happened
to Elianas?” Tristan glanced pointedly at Torrullin’s swordless
waist.

“It has moved
on,” Torrullin said. Instantly Elianas was in his mind.

“Well, let me
clean up and …”

“That won’t be
necessary. I simply require your permission to retrieve my
sword.”

“You have
it.”

“Thank you.”
Torrullin held his hand out, palm up, and Trezond, sword of the
Valleur, nestled upon it. Tristan gaped. “This was my first blade;
we are connected.”

He tilted the
sword, took it by the hilt, and as he moved to slam it into a
scabbard, a scabbard settled about his waist. The sword slid home
without a sound.

“I wish I
could do that.”

“Practice.”
Torrullin headed for the door. “Tian and I are leaving now. Hold
the fort.”

He was gone,
leaving Tristan staring at the open doorway.

 

 

They
transported to the farmland west of the Eastern Mountain, where the
region was unpopulated.

Here Tymall
entered from Digilan and left again with the Tracloc. It was not
where Torrullin left Digilan from, but he would not put Tianoman
through that kind of realm travel; he would use the thinning in the
fabric where a portal once existed.

“Tie this
around your waist.” He handed Tianoman a length of rope. “There’s
mist on the other side and we cannot afford to be separated.” He
tied the other end off around his own waist. “Are you ready?”

“I guess.”

“Do not talk
or make a sound until I give the signal. There are creatures in the
mist and most of them are more bloodthirsty than the Mor Feru.”

Tianoman
nodded.

Torrullin
faced east and sketched the outline of a doorway with both hands. A
patch of white appeared and tendrils of mist escaped into the
sunshine of Valaris, evaporating instantly. Tianoman drew a sharp
breath and Torrullin put his finger to his lips. He stepped through
and Tianoman followed the tug of the rope.

They were in
cloying, thick, blinding mist … and the doorway behind them was
gone.

This was
Digilan.

Chapter 38

 

There are no
rules for the heart.

~ Truth

 

 

Digilan

 

T
here were terrible sounds in the
cloying white, slobbering, tearing sounds, and Tianoman was
afraid.

He hauled on
the rope until he had the comforting presence of Torrullin under
his hands. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder and held on. They
could not see each other. Torrullin wrapped fingers around
Tianoman’s wrist and started walking. To Tianoman it seemed they
walked in a weaving pattern, although he could not be sure. He
concentrated on holding onto the rope with one hand, Torrullin’s
fingers around his other, and blocked out the terrible sounds.

Was it minutes
or hours before the mist thinned? He would never know. He only knew
relief was tangible.

The thinning
mist gave way to grey light and they stepped out into a hole in the
heavens, or thus it seemed. They stood upon muddy ground, treeless
and stinking, and a leaden sky was a perfect circle in the
encircling mist. There was no sunlight; this was the natural state
of Digilan.

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