The Nemisin Star

By Elaina J Davidson

Destiny stalks the twins

Margus and Torrullin are the two faces of a coin. No matter how opposite they are, they remain equal, except Margus has no qualms in using Torrullin's twin sons against him; an agenda he knows causes his enemy suffering. To negate their destiny, desperately seeking release from their symbiosis, Tymall and Tristamil must fight until only one remains standing.
The Forbidden Zone is behind them; the wars of attrition return to Valaris. In a golden city waits a temple raised from a vision, and one night in every year a star shines through the aperture overhead. This is a connection to the world of Nemisin, the first homeworld. In this place where stars meet Torrullin must choose life and death for his sons. The scythe, however, forever silences someone dear to him; is he paying for his choice in the temple?

As the universe searches for the Light in all its brilliance, seeking peace, Torrullin begins to see himself as a prince among demons and therefore decides to change the rules. Death, after all, is not an end.

Too many lives have been lost.
Too many hearts have been broken.
Sometimes the only way to find peace is to lose oneself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elaina J Davidson
• Release date: Nov 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311596499

Elaina J Davidson

Elaina is a galactic and universal traveller and dreamer. When writing she puts into words her travels and dreams, because she believes there is inspiration in even the most outrageous tale.Born in South Africa, she grew up in the magical city and surrounds of Cape Town. After studying Purchasing Management and working in the formal sector as a buyer, she chose to raise and home-school her children. She started writing novels around 2002, moving from children’s stories, poetry and short stories to concentrate on larger works. She lived with her family for some time in Ireland and subsequently in New Zealand. After returning to South Africa, loving the vibrancy of Africa, she upended her life again and moved back to Ireland, her soul-home.Come and get lost with her!

Book preview

Prologue

WEARING BLACK, SWORDS and scabbards clinking, they strode swiftly through the village, tracking the most recent trace of Margus’ presence. Women scattered first, seeing in them intent to be afraid of, gripping and hauling their young to safety. Men brandished pitchforks and axes.

Our reputation has preceded us to this obscure place also, Taranis muttered.

A tale rushed about the known universe of dark raiders invading spaces they were not welcome in. It was said they murdered and tortured the innocent, preyed upon the unsuspecting, and folk needed to be wary, arm, run.

Margus is clever, Torrullin barked. He ensures no one will reveal him.

The Darak Or enacted select killing in every place they visited, sometimes before their arrival, leaving a trace for them to follow, but most frequently after they had vacated a region. Thus their reputation escalated, making no distinction between them and the one who came after.

He needs his balls severed. Vannis spat as his walked, alert for signs that pointed to something other than village life.

Torrullin sent him a look. No one touches him, but me.

He is leading you by the whiskers, Torrullin.

Having successfully lured Margus from torn Atrudis, the underlying intention was to keep him distracted from Valaris, homeworld, heartworld, but a father also fled his son. Margus wore Tymall’s face, and Torrullin thus avoided confrontation.

Beyond the village a paddock beckoned. Two cows and three sheep browsed the spring grass, placidly unconcerned.

Let’s stop here for a few minutes, Saska suggested. This was another ruse and we are in no danger.

Then we move on, Torrullin snapped.

He was a man possessed. He had a vision in his mind he could not dislodge or run fast enough from. He saw himself burning, scything and chopping a bloody path through multitudes of women and children, and wherever he turned severed heads and limbs sprang at him, accusing, mocking, and screaming.

Already a marauder by default, he refused to be one in reality. Somewhere there was a place where no one would suffer the consequences of battle; where Margus would be Margus and Tymall would be Tymall. He simply needed to find it.

We are exhausted, Saska snapped back. How many places have we been in only to leave within minutes today? Never mind that it’s been weeks of this. Look at Matt, Torrullin! He is about to collapse.

Matt had lost weight, unversed in the mode of travel and the drain on the body’s resources the constant use of magic had. He commenced teaching himself magical travel, suspecting correctly, if in control, he could regulate the changes to physical wellbeing. The learning was slow, for they hardly halted to sleep and sometimes did not even have time to relieve themselves. Matt was often angry, and he hated the state, being generally easy-going.

I’m fine, he said when Torrullin glanced at him.

Saska refused to move. She planted gloved hands on the rough wooden rail and stared at the nearest cow as if it was the enemy they sought.

Taranis and Vannis were often at each other, the two never needing great excuse. Now, though, both nodded agreement. As Taranis ambled to a well to check if it worked, Vannis collected their vessels for filling.

Torrullin stared towards the village. Four men watched them with suspicion, but made no move other than to shoo a young girl into hiding. There was no threat from that quarter. He grimaced. The threat was to them, from the one who might pay them a visit later. Staying to catch Margus had not worked elsewhere and would not work here; he never fell into that baited trap. Both sides were cat and mouse.

Fine, he eventually said, moving to a tree beyond the well. Half an hour.

TRISTAMIL WATCHED HIS father relieve himself, and vented an explosive breath. He leaned on the rail next to Saska. Thank you, he murmured.

She squeezed his arm. Tristamil had withdrawn and generally now spoke to no one, except her. He’s simply trying to avoid Margus following him to Valaris

No, Saska, he attempts to void the destiny of the two swords. He needs Tymall separated before confronting Margus, and yet this chase around the universe suits him. This keeps my twin from his blade and therefore both of us from our destiny.

He’ll kill the lot of us if this keeps up, Vannis stated as he offered them filled water vessels.

Nearby, Caltian kept watch on the surroundings. He sniffed the air repeatedly. The Atrudisin was ever calm, on hand to ease nerves, and frequently paid for diplomacy in earning only sharp words.

He glanced at the Taranis sitting against a further tree with eyes closed, at Torrullin stretching mightily near the well, at Matt slumped beside a hay trough, and said to the three at the rail, This is more than a ruse. There is a feeling of absence in the ether.

Absence? Vannis prompted.

Caltian offered a semblance of a smile. "I spent centuries reading currents for signs of a Dragon and his host. It is my area of expertise. Until now I have sensed this Darak Or - he has a unique signature - but it’s completely missing. Nothing."

Torrullin stilled on hearing those words.

Then he too sniffed the air as Caltian had.

Utter silence descended.

Oppressive stillness.

The four men keeping watch for the village slowly retreated, the silence unnerving their already shaky courage. Glancing at each other fearfully, they slunk away.

Torrullin smacked his palms together, causing everyone to flinch.

Well? Saska demanded.

Procrastination now exacted blood coin. Accounting was due. Tired of waiting, running, chasing and luring, Margus chose to force the issue. If no push worked, and no pull, if the cat could not play mouse, he opted for the time and the place where psychological skirmishes would be as intense a precursor to the war to come as any words and weapons traded.

Torrullin stared at her, but he was clearly focused somewhere else entirely.

Son? Taranis prompted, pushing away from the tree to stand.

Tristamil’s eyes narrowed. Caltian is right? When his father did not respond, he shuddered as comprehension washed over him. Margus heads for Valaris.

Horror settled deep beside guilt and exhaustion.

It was time to go home.

To a war already fought.

Part I

MARAUDERS

Chapter 1

Cold is pretty. Ice forms lace and the air is so clear it heralds angels. Leave me here; I am happy.

~Aris, Druid of Akanth

Valaris

Torrke - The Keep

26th day of Dormire

CLOSE ON SIX months had passed since the stolen ship left Valaris airspace on a mission to deal with Neolone and the Dragon Taliesman. Leaving in high summer, they returned as the first month of winter drew to a close. Snow had not yet fallen, the land was dormant and the air cold, animals were in hibernation and rains had swollen rivers and filled lakes.

Torrke, seat of Keep and Throne, was quiet. Like to the rest of the continent, the valley awaited the first snowfall. The Keep was ready for winter; roof tiles were replaced, gutters cleared, general repairs affected, and food and fuel stocks laid in. From the courtyard delicate potted plants moved indoors and the mosaic pool’s pump was off.

Into this courtyard the marauders alighted, doing so during the midday meal on a sunny day. Staff and Elders ate al fresco, and akin to avenging angels they appeared. A maid dropped her tray of dishes and went screaming back to the kitchens.

Torrullin dragged his headgear off, throwing it to the paving underfoot, and his fair hair was a beacon. It grew over the past months to coil untidily in his neck, a fringe flopping over his familiar forehead.

Lord Vallorin! Pretora gasped, recovering from shock.

If I had not been who I am, Elder, this Keep would now be seized. Are you not on war footing?

A dark cloud passed before the sun to snuff daylight. To a Valleur that was an omen, and Pretora was no different in his perceptions. He blanched, stared at his lord, and knew serious trouble had landed.

Of course, my Lord.

Torrullin strode forward, his companions following more slowly, with Caltian wide-eyed. The Atrudisin had wondered what Valaris would be like and admitted to curiosity over the Valleur Throne.

Triple your efforts, Torrullin said, and entered the Throne-room. He set muddy boots to the blue aisle carpet and paced towards his Throne.

Caltian stared at the golden seat. So long was Atrudis isolated that ages had passed since a Valleur from the Forbidden Zone had seen it. It was a simple seat, and it was imposing; dear Aaru. He wanted to run his hands over it, but the warning spoken about its effect on those not known to it was now imprinted. He dared not touch it. He could lose his life if he did.

Outside, dishes were whisked away, most with food on them, and tables and chairs vanished with alacrity, and so, too, the retainers. Their Vallorin had moods to be avoided.

Grim of face, the others arrayed to the sides of the seat. Torrullin sat, gripping the armrests as power infused him. He welcomed the infusion. He needed the infusion, although the thought was unformed.

Pretora was hesitant as he approached, and behind him Kismet was hasty as he entered. Kismet caught up, slowed him.

What, Pretora?

A face like thunder? We are in for it, Kismet. Quiet now.

Both men glanced at Caltian, a stranger from another world, and searchingly at Saska, but were themselves under scrutiny and did not react. Whatever emotion lay behind those faces, all of it spelled trouble.

My Lord, Pretora murmured, bowing. Kismet wordlessly did the same.

Pretora, did Camot return from Atrudis? said Torrullin.

Yes, my Lord.

Send for him. Where are the Q’lin’la?

At the Temple, my Lord.

I am on my way, Enchanter, Quilla sent before he could be contacted.

Torrullin grimaced. All gods, he wanted to sleep forever.

Lord Vallorin? Kismet said.

Torrullin looked at him.

My Lord, there are Dragons here.

Torrullin leaned forward, eyes sparking. Yes?

They arrived on the cargo traveller with many Thinnings aboard.

They were guised as Xenians, Pretora added.

Where are they? Torrullin asked.

Pretora put his hands together. We have incarcerated them.

Goddess! Torrullin snarled. Alongside him heads were shaken. Did you not tell Quilla or Krikian? Release them immediately.

He rubbed his eyes and drew breath. Her Majesty Abdiah, Kallanon ruler, Dragonne Queen, would have a few succinct words about this. Fortunately, she harked to diplomacy.

Abdiah planned ahead, Vannis muttered nearby, his voice on the edge of amusement.

She clearly sent the two Dragons as forerunners, suspecting the battle for the Light would come to Valaris. Abdiah, as Torrullin once remarked, was her own advisor.

Kismet ran out, leaving Pretora clutching his robe.

Thundor was successful, thank Aaru, Taranis murmured. If duped.

Thundor saved the Thinnings in the Forbidden Zone from Murs annihilation. Great foresight, but he might have brought his brethren to new disaster here.

Torrullin did not respond.

Lord Vallorin, what is wrong? We thought you were able to end … Pretora’s voice petered out when his ruler swung a silvery gaze to him.

Quilla appeared and instantly read the situation. He frowned at Pretora. Leave, Elder; all will be explained. Prepare the bedchambers and order up … He glanced at the bunch around the Throne. … food and wine.

We have no time to drink, birdman! Vannis snapped.

Quilla ignored him. Go, Pretora, and better put some sedatives in the food.

The Elder stared at him in horror and then noticed twinkling eyes. He made himself scarce, relieved. The birdman had a calming influence on the Vallorin.

Quilla swung back serenely to the group of marauders; their reputation had reached Valarian ears also. He had not believed a word of it and now wondered if he was wrong. He looked them over critically and his gaze fixed on Torrullin.

You had a hard time of it, obviously, but there is no call to frighten your Elders and retainers. You need them.

They have been lax.

They have not. We ourselves only returned two weeks ago. We found Valaris secure, as you will no doubt recognise when you open your eyes. They do not know the full tale and are unaware of new dangers, but they are prepared as if mindful of every facet.

But they know the Dragon is gone.

That was, after all, the point.

Caltian swallowed. He killed the creature and thus fulfilled his destiny.

Where have you been? Torrullin asked.

The birdman studied him calmly as he said, We were on Atrudis. Much fear arose with the re-emergence of Emperor Teighlar and, despite the documents you prepared, insufficient Valleur believed in you to take you at your word. We stayed to smooth matters and that took some doing. Eventually the charisma of the Emperor himself won hearts, but it meant we were delayed in returning. What would you have us do, Enchanter? Leave that world to a different war. A civil war?

Torrullin rubbed his eyes again. You did well, and I am sorry.

Quilla smiled.

Grinwallin? Saska whispered.

Grinwallin was a mighty city in the eastern region of Atrudis’ Tunin continent; a city built of stone set atop a great plateau. It delved the mountain behind it as well as stepping in tiers down to the plateau. Grinwallin, when they attained it in search of the Taliesman, was in ruin, but the ruins were odd for a city ninety million years abandoned; it seemed as if it fell into disrepair a mere century before. Magic kept the spirit of a fair city alive, proven when its resident Emperor, Teighlar, rose from ghostly form to become real.

Teighlar and Grinwallin were gifted a second chance. The team left the city before it arose in splendour, before Teighlar’s people, the Senlu, awakened with him.

The birdman gazed up with wonder upon his angelic face. I am not one for cities and many people, but I would happily change my ways for Grinwallin. She is beautiful, simply entrancing.

In leaving, they gifted the Senlu their second chance without the strife a Darak Or would unleash. It was decidedly a point of light.

Saska smiled.

Quilla transferred his gaze to Torrullin. Her architect was a genius. Grinwallin was conceived with heart and soul. You would–

What? It came out as a warning.

Quilla heard it and sighed inwardly. Perhaps the Enchanter knew the truth about Grinwallin. … be proud, Torrullin.

"Why would I be proud?"

We were part of her renewal, Enchanter. We should all be proud.

Torrullin’s silvery gaze moved away.

Quilla prompted, Is he here? He meant Margus.

We think so, Taranis replied when his son did not. We lost him out there and there are no longer traces.

Full circle, Quilla murmured. We deal with it. For the present, you bathe and rest, eat. Leave the rest to me. I shall see the sites cloaked immediately and that Camot is ready. He quirked his head. You are home and amongst your own, and we shall aid in carrying this burden. Take some time to find your good humour before you speak again.

The birdman swung around and exited the chamber.

A breath of sanity, our Quilla, Taranis murmured.

Yes, Vannis agreed, and left. Back home now, the death of his beloved Raken was again new.

Tristamil, his face expressionless, followed. He wanted desperately to see Skye, and knew it would be hard for them.

Well, we are a cohesive unit, Taranis said, and strode the carpet into the courtyard. He ignored the few curious retainers outside and bounded up the outer stairs to the suites.

Matt, show Caltian to the guest area. Torrullin waved after Taranis, and the two left without a word.

I assume I may still claim a place in our suite, husband? Saska asked. Her emerald eyes were cold and simultaneously challenging.

He stared at her. You are my wife.

I am a stranger to you.

Gods, I cannot do this now. The suite is yours; I will find somewhere else.

Saska stood before him. You have sucked all the joy from me and treated me like the enemy. Do not humiliate me as well. It is our suite, and you will join me in it.

As you will, my Lady.

She nodded and left.

TORRULLIN SAT FOR many hours. A gentle prompting from Kismet to eat went unheard and Quilla came and went, but he merely left the Enchanter to his thoughts. None of them realised it was more than introspection, more than strategies that kept him there, although those were factors.

The Throne held him, asking questions, receiving answers, without conscious thought. A communion, for the ancient sentient seat needed to know what was new and what was changed. One day the sentience would gift the kind of answers that would completely destroy Torrullin of the present, to remake him, but that day had not yet arrived. For now, the communion was mutual and satisfying. It, more than anything else, told him he was home.

It was dusk when he finally stirred, standing like an old man. He felt old. He felt guilty.

He wanted to sleep forever.

Saska was upstairs and had arranged food and drink for him. He looked at her, silently sat, and ate slowly. He did not speak, and she did not interrupt. She watched, waiting for a sign of something more than enmity, but he revealed nothing. He was far away. He was also clearly drained.

I have drawn you a bath, she said, when he eventually pushed his plate aside.

Nodding, he entered the bathroom, closing the door. Sighing, she sat on the bed.

He eventually emerged bathed and shaven, wearing a dark blue robe, and halted in the doorway. There was a spark in his eyes and her heart tripped. Whatever it was, it would be better than cold anger.

This is my fault, Saska. How do I deal with this?

I have no answer, Torrullin.

He came to sit beside her. He smoothed her hair from her face, the first tender action since she appeared to him on Atrudis, and then dropped his hand and looked away. Forgive me.

She gazed towards the window, taking a breath. Sleep. I shall keep watch.

There are many watching. Come, sleep as well. He peeled the covers back. We need to rest now.

She studied him a while and moved to her side. Together they climbed in, lying stiffly until she turned to lay her head on his shoulder, pushing her hand through the flaps of his gown to lie upon the skin of his chest. He stiffened and then drew her close.

Gradually they relaxed, and sleep came.

They were home.

Chapter 2

News of arrival, when wished for and hoped for, spreads swiftly and requires no magic.

~Book of Sages

The Keep

BY MORNING THE Throne-room was full. The Elders had gathered, war leader Camot was there with his troops stationed inside and in the vicinity of the Keep. During his absence in the Forbidden Zone his deputies increased troop complement significantly, and he stepped back into authority well pleased. Having been there when Margus’ resurgence was revealed, he wondered now if he had sufficient soldiers.

Skye, Cat, and Lowen came. The two Xenians stayed with Skye in Luan until Matt’s return. Cat and Matt were brother and sister, the navigator and pilot respectively that took the ship to Atrudis, and Lowen was their young niece. The Dalrish family reunited earlier. Skye was Torrullin’s goddaughter and happy to see Matt well, relieved he survived the rigours of journeying with Torrullin. She was relieved also that Torrullin was home, but wondered how he was. The terrible thing Margus did in infusing Tymall, it hurt her, and therefore had to suffocate her godfather.

Caballa, the blind seer, attended, self-contained as ever. Thundor perched impishly on a side table near the Throne, grinning at anyone who happened to glance in his direction.

Gren, the Sagorin leader, towered over his neighbours. The entire Q’lin’la contingent gathered near the front, and beside them, dwarfing the massive chamber, the two Dragons sent by Abdiah in guise.

The Siric were conspicuous in their non-appearance; Declan last sent word seven weeks back that they followed a lead on the Murs that escaped the Forbidden Zone. They would be absent a long time. Bartholamu, the Siric leader, would not cease until every Murs had paid with their lives for the damage done to Atrudis and the Valleur there.

Taranis and Tristamil moved among the gathered, greeting friends and exchanging pleasantries. Tristamil and Skye orbited each other, not talking, but aware of where the other was. Matt chatted to Cat, and Caltian introduced himself to the Elders, the Atrudisin bright-eyed agog. Krikian, the dream expert, answered Caballa’s penetrating questions.

Saska entered and silence fell.

She left Valaris and her husband before the mission to the Forbidden Zone because her life was in danger, as it often was in those days. Tymall attempted to kill her many times, and she chose to leave. In doing so she discovered her destiny. She became the Lady of Life, and while she was aware Torrullin respected that, she also knew her new status drove another wedge between them. Many watched her with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity, but she did not mind, making her way to the Throne.

Moments later Torrullin followed. He walked swiftly to the seat of power to sit, and surveyed the great chamber.

Vannis came next with Valaris’ human leaders, engaged since early, ferrying them in. They needed to hear what would be said. He glanced at his grandson and received a nod of approval.

There were a number of guests at the Keep from other worlds. Some came to see Torrullin and some to see the magical Throne-room, while others whispered about the power of the Valleur Throne, and Caltian watched it all in awe, listening to every nuance.

Another individual flitted in, making an entrance in full Centuar regalia.

Belun! Torrullin rose with a wide grin.

Caltian did a double take. What, in all gods’ names, was that? It was not a Dragon or a birdman, it looked like a horse … what was it? Did it talk?

Torrullin! Belun laughed, stamping a rhythm on the floor. Cannot have this kind of gathering without a Centuar to keep you on the straight and narrow. Belun used mindspeak in Centuar form, but all heard him clearly. The talent was his.

Torrullin laughed and the cares receded for a time. It is good to see you, old friend.

Twenty-six years ago, he and Belun reached an understanding, and both trust and true friendship was born that day. Belun fought Margus then; he would no doubt want to do so now.

Likewise. Besides, I hear we are about to rehash an old tale. I never was done the first time.

Instead of losing his tenuous hold on good humour, Torrullin joked, Seems I wasn’t either.

Belun neighed his appreciation and paced the carpet to the forefront of the gathered. Let us get him this time, shall we? He sat carefully and gazed belligerently around him. Have you never seen a Centuar? He gestured at the two Dragons. And, pray tell, what exactly are these?

Phet burst out laughing.

Caltian’s eyebrows rocketed upward.

Kallanon, Belun, Torrullin smiled. Now apologise.

Me? Apologise? Huh! But he grinned and bowed politely to the Dragons, who inclined their heads.

Taranis crept up behind the Centuar and tapped him on the shoulder. Belun reared like an uncoiling spring, an intimidating phenomenon, and then froze.

My lord! I nearly … phew. He sat.

Taranis laughed and smacked him playfully on the hindquarters. Ah, Belun, you have a way about you. It is good to see you; you have been sorely missed.

Thank you, my lord. This little altercation, wild horses could not keep me away. Belun laughed uproariously at his own joke.

Aaru, Torrullin, we will have to muzzle him. Taranis shook his head and stepped onto the dais to stand beside his son.

Saska was quiet on the other side, but she sent Belun a wink, and he touched his heart theatrically. They were old friends, and had been Guardians together in the Dome before her marriage to Torrullin.

Still smiling and shedding years from yesterday’s appearance, Torrullin lifted his hand. When he had silence he was serious. He had not summoned the gathered, but they did in the event save him the trouble; all the main players were in attendance.

It was time to address them. You have come because you heard ill tidings and the mode of our return yesterday will have fuelled all manner of rumour. Here are the facts. First, the Valleur Dragon is no more. He lifted his tunic to present his bare and unmarked chest. From this day the ceremony regarding the passing of the Dragon is obsolete and will be removed from the inauguration of Vallorins. He dropped his tunic. The Oracles will be updated to include the tale, the existence of our Valleur brethren in the Forbidden Zone, their tale, and the new manner of crowning a Vallorin.

There was only silence.

Some of you may wish to organise a parting ritual and we shall discuss it, but not today, not too soon. There are other concerns now. The rumours are true. The Darak Or of twenty-six years ago has indeed risen. Quiet! This is no time to panic. We must be sensible, logical and calm. Margus was defeated, but I underestimated his will and genius. I assumed I conquered essence as well as form, but that is not so.

Torrullin was quiet then, falling into the deeper silence of the Throne-room. It was time to unmask someone precious to him. He lifted his gaze to Tristamil.

Tris, please join me on the dais.

Tristamil glanced at Skye beside him. He said something to her, waited a beat for her to nod, and made his way forward.

On the dais, he murmured, You have no need to tell them everything.

Torrullin gave a wry grimace. Then how do I explain it?

They probably already know, Taranis muttered.

Torrullin waited until Tristamil took up position on Saska’s other side. Margus hid his essence in the one place I had no idea existed. He hid in the unborn form of the son I did not recognise until moments before his birth.

The silence remained unbroken. Taranis was right; they knew.

For Margus, this ploy amounts to ultimate revenge. He has taken my son. Torrullin was expressionless and ignored sympathy from the floor. It is the Valleur way to have a witness present at destruction, but that course was simply too dangerous the day in the Corridor, and now we pay. Yes, my son Tymall is finally revealed. I can offer no apology to set my lack of judgement and action to rights, but know the guilt I suffer can never be atoned for.

He paused when a number of guests elbowed their way from the Throne-room, probably en route to the next available ship off this potentially unsafe world. He decided to address that issue first.

For some of you here, this is not your fight and no one expects you to participate. If any are able to leave Valaris, do so, but I ask that you go calmly. Please do not spread panic among those who have no choice but to remain. Go now with our blessing.

More moved to the exit, and Torrullin waited until they were clear and all movement had ceased within the chamber.

We are fortunate in that we have been on war footing for months and, although we expected a different enemy, it will be no hardship to sharpen our wits to another. He paused again to move to the edge of the dais.

Torrullin’s eyes were bleak. Tymall can never be Vallorin. Tymall cannot be redeemed. I hereby revoke his Valla status. In the continuing silence he glanced at Tristamil. I have an heir, but I shall not declare him this day. He deserves better.

Tristamil lifted grey eyes to Skye. It would not now be easy for them.

I have no time for formalities, but know my mind on my sons. One is no longer welcome among the Valleur and the other is my heir. And if you ask how you discern the difference between them, if you think Tymall may use identical features to fool, I tell you now that you will know. Not only in carriage, in behaviour, in their eyes, but there is a physical weapon to set them apart. Tristamil carries a blue sword and the other wields a green blade.

Tristamil drew the sword in question into view. The blue metal was unmistakable.

Quilla, I ask that the Q’lin’la commence a warning programme.

The birdman nodded.

Camot, station your troops in an encompassing grid and make the concentration strong. Warn them to be unobtrusive; they are to allay fears, not stir it up by their presence.

The war leader bowed.

David … David was the mayor of Galilan, and the mayors of Gasmoor, Luan, Farinwood and Actar were also in attendance. You and your colleagues are well aware of the past situation, and while it may not be the same this time, you know best the necessary preventions.

The five mayors nodded sombrely.

Torrullin addressed his Valleur. Twenty-six years ago, our greatest disadvantage was lack of communication. We need the best Valleur communicators in all those areas Valarian sorcerers have not had opportunity to set up in, and to aid those still at this time untrained. In this you will work closely with David and his team. Do not tell me we do not countenance mindspeak.

Pretora bowed formally on behalf of the Elders.

Torrullin paced, thinking, and stopped. He glanced at Kismet. Is the traveller still at the Tower?

No, Lord Vallorin, it is locked away at Two Town spaceport.

Good, Torrullin murmured. Matt …

I’m not going anywhere, Matt said.

Torrullin found him by voice and fixed a stare on him. He ignored the presence of Cat nearby. I need you to check it, in the event certain matters come to a head.

Matt pursed his lips and said nothing. Cat whispered something and he glanced angrily at her.

Gren, what is the status of the Dome?

The Sagorin scratched his head. After Bartholamu commandeered it, it winked out, but it can be recalled, particularly now that Lord Taranis is among us.

Excellent. I need you to liaise with David and Pretora about evacuees.

The chamber was again silent.

Evacuees. Prepare for the unforeseen.

One more matter, Torrullin murmured into that silence. Saska has returned to us, and not merely as my wife. I sense your uncertainty, but she is welcome, as she ever was. She may speak for herself.

Saska came forward. They did not look at each other.

She stood at the edge of the dais picking out familiar faces. I did not want to leave and today I wish I at least said goodbye. I am sorry.

It’s fine, my Lady, someone murmured. I think we all understand the reasons.

She did not see him, but felt her husband’s tension behind her.

Thank you, she said, and moved on. I return to you as the new Lady of Life. She held up a hand. This is a tale that must await the right time. All I need to say now is that no matter how much we lose in the near future, Life will arise again. She smiled and no one doubted. A sense of eternal optimism infused the chamber and it was part of her gift. I need your trust for my task to be made easier. Trust that evil deeds will pass and after the blackest hour Life and Light will arise anew and all will be well.

As she turned away, husband and wife were facing each other.

It will not come to pass, Torrullin said.

This is your home, and these are the spaces and people you love and hold close. We shall see what exactly comes to pass.

He forced himself beyond her. Go now to your tasks and forgive my behaviour yesterday.

Many smiles were offered, and the room gradually cleared until only a few remained. Torrullin stepped off the dais and made his way to the two Dragons.

The news had been shared. Torrullin was home. Those who survived the destruction on Atrudis were back. None of it equalled peace.

Chapter 3

Hearth stones are home

~Awl

The Keep

"IS IT BEING home that allows one to find sanity again?" Taranis pondered, sitting on the dais edge with legs stretched.

Vannis approached and sat. This is what we hold dear. This is our civilised nature. He watched Torrullin with the Kallanon. He did well. No panic, not too much said.

More and more the diplomat, yes.

They were together last night, Vannis murmured.

Taranis studied the floor. In the same space only.

Has he told you what she offered him?

No. And I dare not ask.

It is good to be back. Despite Raken, it is good, Vannis said, and they smiled at each other.

Raken was murdered to keep the secret of the Dragon and the Taliesman. Murs murdered Lycea, the twins’ mother, and two old friends as well for the same reason. It sparked the mission to the Forbidden Zone. Much of Vannis’ anger was now cooled, having had a hand in the killing of the Murs leader, but he was lost without his beloved.

Lovebirds, Matt teased, and sank to his haunches before them.

Taranis grinned. You have come a long way. I remember the young pilot who was agog at the sights.

Grew up a bit.

Too forward by far these days, Torrullin murmured with a wink in Matt’s direction, and sat beside Taranis.

Saska now engaged the Dragons and moments later she gestured outside. With ponderous steps they followed her. She suggested a tour of the valley to ease their recent tension.

What did they have to say? Vannis asked.

They needed pacifying, but Abdiah’s name worked wonders. Apparently, they have been trying to contact her for a while. Her Majesty keeps mum for some reason.

They watched the great creatures halt beside the huge Dragon doors, saw them bow and pass through.

Tristamil and Skye were in conversation near the mosaic pool, both clearly unhappy. Torrullin studied the body language there for a moment and knew the time approached when he would be forced to interfere. Cat, Caltian, and Lowen murmured together. Torrullin noticed how Cat’s gaze followed Saska as she headed for the Dragon doors.

Were Cat and Lowen happy to see you? he asked of Matt.

Very, the Xenian grinned. I could do without the questions, though. The latter was more serious.

Welcome to our world, Vannis muttered, his gaze on Tristamil and Skye. They are staying with Skye, I hear.

Yes, and love it there, on the beach and all, Matt said.

Torrullin glanced at Skye again. The living arrangements were news to him. And you, Matt? Luan?

Bit far from the action.

Torrullin inclined his head, briefly amused. It is a terrible thing to revisit yesterday’s doom on the same people.

Vannis said forcefully, Granted, but Margus is responsible, not you.

As Quilla said, we shall deal with it, Taranis said.

Matt’s gaze divided between the speakers, and he frowned.

Matt? Taranis prompted.

Speak; you have earned the right, Torrullin said.

It occurs to me you are different today, and I probably am too. It’s as if we care more. What is changed, really? It’s the same objective.

World hopping, Taranis murmured.

I’m sorry?

It happens when you transport too often. You lose sight of yourself and others because you are constantly internalising in order to go forward. The same happens when one goes away for a long time. Any Valleur you meet, whether he knows you or not, will know you have been offworld.

And now we are home and rooted and begin to see ourselves, Vannis added.

And begin to care, Torrullin said.

Matt said nothing.

We need to turn our thoughts to strategy, Torrullin said.

Search the old haunts? Taranis suggested. Obvious, but we cannot afford to ignore anything. I can do that.

Perfect, Torrullin thought. It will take you away from this, from me.

Good idea, he said. Take Matt with you. It will familiarise you with much of the land, Matt. Both Taranis and Matt nodded. After you have checked the ship.

Yeah, yeah.

Torrullin eyed the Xenian. Listen to me, pilot. Twenty-six and more years ago we lost four hundred thousand people. Men, women and children, three-quarters of our population. Matt paled, but Torrullin went on relentlessly. "We dug mass graves on a scale you cannot comprehend and that was when we could find the dead. Some vanished without a trace, and there are still families today who grieve without the closure that comes with burial.

We still mourn; it can happen again, and much faster. We are not even half of what we were. Sixty percent of the human population is under eighteen, and the three hundred Valleur who came through the Rift are now only about a thousand. We need to ensure every means to ferry folk off this world if it erupts, and that includes you. This is your home now, is it not? And we welcome you and know you will fight for your adopted world, but Valarians are asking for help.

Matt was penitent. I’ll check it out.

Do it in secret, Vannis murmured. I saw a Beaconite in the crowd today. They stole the ship from the Beaconites.

I’ll provision it, Matt went on a heartbeat later, and I’ll negotiate a landing site on another world, a place where we can erect a refugee camp. Forgive me.

Torrullin smiled. You are a fine man, my friend. I ask not perfection or unquestioning loyalty. I have not the right, for I am no longer your employer and I am not your overlord. All I ask as one man to another is what you demand of yourself.

Matt was silent.

What is it? Torrullin asked as the silence stretched.

You are no longer my employer.

I asked you to steal a ship and pilot it into the Zone and in return Valaris is your home. Yours, Cat’s and Lowen’s. I did not need to employ you to grant this new life, I hope you know that.

I do.

What is on your mind?

Is there a fealty oath sworn to you by your subjects?

Torrullin rocked back. I do not expect that.

Are you not sworn to Dall Reni? Taranis frowned. Dall Reni was Peacekeeper of Xen III, Matt’s homeworld.

Matt said, Reni is my uncle, not my overlord.

You are a citizen of Valaris, Matt; we require no more. Torrullin glanced at Vannis, who was stoic.

I would give you my oath. I consider myself yours to command anyway, more than man to man. I would make it formal.

Torrullin closed his eyes. No.

Am I not good enough, is that it?

Torrullin opened silvery eyes. You are, and I am honoured indeed …

The honour would be mine.

Torrullin glanced again at Vannis, who unbent to say, You know the rules, my Lord Vallorin. Fealty freely offered cannot be denied.

Unless it is retracted before spoken, Torrullin said with urgency.

I’m not retracting, Matt said. He rose, bent one knee and clasped his hands together. I don’t know how it’s done …

Vannis, stop him.

Vannis held his peace.

I swear to you, my Lord Vallorin, an oath binding unto death of my loyalty to you as my Lord, forsaking all oaths.

By the gods, Matt, you cannot.

Too late, Vannis murmured.

Do you accept my oath, my Lord Vallorin?

How could he not, when it came from the heart? I accept, but I wish you heard me before you gave in to this impulse.

It’s no impulse. You know that.

Taranis demanded, This young man bared his soul and you seek to deny him; why?

Vannis murmured, An oath of fealty is followed by training.

Matt paled, but remained resolute, eyes on Torrullin. He remained on one knee.

Rise, Matt, and be at ease.

Matt unwound to sit on the floor.

According to Valleur rules I could not warn you, Matt. Fealty by a non-Valleur is accepted at a price, one you pay and so do I. I accept your oath, but we shall delay the formal ceremony until this fiasco is dealt with, and we keep this between ourselves. I cannot forgo your talents now. The training will sequester you for some lengthy time and therefore I choose to defer.

Matt licked dry lips and said nothing.

And the training? Taranis asked.

Matt is better off not knowing. Torrullin held a hand out to the Xenian. You must trust me on this and know I shall tell you when the time is right.

Matt took the offered hand and leaned forward to move into the Valleur style of greeting. He was uncertain, but a faint glitter in his dark eyes gave evidence to conviction. As my Lord says.

Conviction would aid him well, Torrullin knew. I have enough ‘my lording’ from others.

Matt grinned. Thanks, Torrullin. They released the clasp.

Vannis reached out to slap the Xenian’s shoulder. Welcome to this crazy system!

Crazy is right, Taranis muttered.

Vannis cleared his throat and changed the subject. The sacred sites are cloaked. Nevertheless, I prefer to check them. Margus knows the locations of the old ones and he will find the changes if we are not careful.

Torrullin nodded. We must take into account his knowledge of the Oracles. Take Caltian along, same reason as for Matt.

Vannis ambled to where Caltian spoke to Cat and Lowen. Torrullin wondered what the Atrudisin shared with them.

Will they be safe in Luan? Matt asked, his attention turning in that direction as well.

I aim to bring them here until this is over, Torrullin said. Tris has probably made that clear already, to Skye.

About Tris and Skye … Taranis began.

Leave it, father. When it gets to that point I shall decide.

Matt said, Cat’s chafing at the inactivity. She’ll agitate to be in the thick of things.

Torrullin squinted at the Dragon doors on the other side of the courtyard. No sign of Saska. Then she must be set to rights now. He rose.

Taranis and Matt locked gazes.

Is that wise? Matt dared.

Yes, son. Let Matt talk to her.

I have stayed out of her way, but not for this. Torrullin walked off.

Matt muttered, If he and Saska were okay, I’d have no issue.

I know what you mean, Taranis said. Will Cat read the situation?

Matt made a face. She already has.

"CAT, I WOULD like a word."

She glanced at the Dragon doors and followed Torrullin. Welcome home.

Thank you. Are you settling in well?

Yes. What do you want to say? she asked.

You are to stay here.

At the Keep?

Yes, for safety.

Thanks a lot. Cat arched an eyebrow.

I am not going to argue this with you. Skye will be here, Lowen obviously, and Caballa. Saska will be in and out. The Elders will be around and Camot’s soldiers.

I thought the valley was protected.

It is, but Margus is unpredictable.

We’ll be a bunch of old men and women.

Gods, don’t be difficult.

Cat looked away. Have you told her?

No.

Don’t. You’ve left it too long now.

He did not respond.

I’m right, you know.

Probably.

I’ll be circumspect.

Cat.

Relax. I want to do something.

He nodded. Good. There will be enough to do here.

She threw him an angry look and stomped from the chamber. He jerked around and returned to the dais.

"I NEED TO talk to Lowen," Torrullin said.

We are off. Keep in touch, Vannis said, gesturing to Caltian.

Taranis said, I do not want to start guessing your moves.

Torrullin nodded. I will keep you up to date.

Taranis and Matt left also.

As far as I am able to, Torrullin thought, and gave his attention to the girl. Are you happy here on Valaris, Lowen?

I like it here. It’s nicer than Luvanor.

I am glad. You call it Luvanor?

That is Atrudis’ real name.

True names are important. Yes, I know that well.

You understand.

I do, and shall make it clear when I return to Luvanor.

He would not again think of Atrudis as anything other than Luvanor, that he already knew. He hunkered. She was not a little girl anymore and yet he was better able to deal with her when lower than her.

Lowen, you know who Pretora is? She nodded. Pretora has had a message from your father. It was addressed to me, a while ago, and Pretora held it. Your father asked for news of you and sent word that matters come to a head on Xen. He says he is well, he loves you, and maybe your time apart will be shorter than expected.

Her father was Le Moss Mar Dalrish, Matt and Cat’s cousin. He was Dall Mossen, the crime lord of Xen III. Dall Reni was his father, and there was only enmity between the two. Dall Mossen’s sole purpose in life was to bring Reni to a fall, and Reni desired his son dead. A volatile situation developed on Xen.

Lowen’s eyes glowed.

Would you like to send a letter?

Yes! she whispered, hugging herself.

Torrullin smiled. Then go to it, young lady, and when you are done hand it to Pretora; he will see it arrives safely.

Lowen twirled to charge away, changed her mind and placed a kiss on Torrullin’s cheek before running out, skipping with every step.

Torrullin touched his cheek. His sons had never displayed that kind of affection.

Chapter 4

Know from the outset every relationship, whether of love or friendship, is fraught with possibilities and danger. Your responsibility is to remain objective in the viewing of it, while being emotionally involved also. Not easy, friend.

~Awl

The Keep

The day before

SKYE AND TRISTAMIL’S reunion was tense. She saw him climb to the battlements and followed the shadowy form. World hopping changed Tristamil, and he swung around with irritation, so much like his father that she was frightened of him, and for him.

Months of waiting to hear about him, see him, left no doubt about how much she cared, and she stared mutely, willing him to see her and not the intrusion. He crossed the divide between them and took her into his arms. Whatever else had happened and whatever would rule his life now, his feelings for her had