Step over the threshold at your peril!
The real truth about the Valleur through the ages is uncovered when exploiters delve the green hills of Echolone for gold. After an ancient door is discovered in the bowels of the earth, it serves to unmask the hidden power Elianas carries within, a power that places him on the same pedestal Torrullin, as Elixir, already inhabits.
In a time when all seers’ visions and dreams cease, revelations are given to those who have never before experienced them at the site of a mysterious door in a mine. Here is a mystery and it requires solving, but the answers will change the future, in reality and realms.
CHAPTER 10
Second
fiddle never sounds quite the same, does it?
~ Tattle
Valaris
Farinwood
THE INN WAS CROWDED. All
inns in Farinwood were over-full, in fact. It was Istelgor, the icy month of
winter before spring thaw, and it was Farinwood’s annual ice-skating
competition. People in colourful gear crowded every inn, tavern, eatery, all
roads and streets, every park and bench. Skates adorned doorways, window
latches and all conceivable spaces. Laughter, shrieks and talk flowed around
the aging town. There were teams from Xen, Beacon, Excelsior, Ceta, Fortani,
Lax, Sanctuary, Ymir, and from Valaris and Luvanor. They competed for a trophy,
no more, and thus competition was serious fun.
The frozen lake was a relatively new addition
to Farinwood’s attractions, one built of necessity and then later used to
entertain the youth of the town during winter, entertainment that spread like
wildfire when two Xenians one day donned their skates and flew on ice. Skates
became the new thing to have. Now in its tenth year, the competition went
universal.
“Where is Lowen in this?” Torrullin muttered.
Lowen was not to be found and in the press of
people they were soon separated. Quilla was with Cassy; she would be fine, if
agog over the sights, sounds and smells.
“Let’s try the lake!” Elianas shouted over six
burly men.
Torrullin waved understanding and headed that
way.
Coming upon her from different angles, they
found Lowen giggling with a group of females ranging in age from ten to eighty.
Barring the young, the women fortified themselves against the cold with warming
drinks. She saw Elianas first and patted a space beside her. He sat, accepted a
beverage, and was soon the centre of attention. Torrullin, watching
unobtrusively, smiled. Elianas seemed younger, more innocent, like to the boy
he was once. Lowen’s, however, was an almost desperate gaiety. His smile
slipped, looking at her. He turned his back on Saska for this woman, and now he
did the same to her for Elianas, but the precedent with Elianas existed in a
time ages-old.
Enchanter, where are you?
At the lake, Quilla. We found her.
This place is a madhouse.
A resounding cheer raised the noise level. A
team of skaters had taken honours. Lowen looked up and saw him. Leaning over
Elianas, she whispered something, and stood to make her way unsteadily to him.
She almost fell into his arms, and he was disappointed when she caught her
balance in time. A moment later Elianas had laughingly excused himself and
followed.
“Lowen, having fun?” Torrullin murmured.
“Two days ago, they started packing it in.”
“Skating competitions, angling, marathons, skiing,
hiking, sailing; who would have thought Valaris would be this popular?”
Cassy and Quilla joined them, and Cassy and
Lowen fell into conversation about women’s clothing and so forth. Lowen sent
Torrullin a quick look on realising that Cassy was healed, knowing the woman
now had the ability to cause trouble for him, but he was looking at the
birdman. Elianas rolled his eyes - women and clothes - and winked when she
looked at him next. Elianas had opted to take the present at face value.
Quilla had a look on his face. “We will not
find food here.”
“Gasmoor. It has to be quiet there,” Torrullin
offered.
They headed out to a private space for
transport, with Lowen promising to find suitable clothes for Valaris’ august
guest.
Gasmoor
DESPITE THE YEARS, Gasmoor
retained its formality and remained a university town. It boasted more suburbs
in the present, and yet was quiet and restful. Roads were wide and trees were
old. It also boasted the finest restaurants on Valaris. Torrullin chose a place
serving pasta and smooth red wine, and they sat around a table polished to a
sheen. The owner recognised his patron and led them to a private area. The wine
came swiftly, and orders were placed.
“Valaris is modernising fast,” Torrullin
remarked.
“You cannot stop it,” Quilla murmured, sipping
fastidiously.
“Pity.”
Quilla sighed. “I must agree with you. At
least it’s not the high-tech craziness as some places have fallen into.”
The food came - pasta with tomato and herb
sauce and baskets of garlic bread - and they ate with relish.
Cassy said, “This is good.”
Elianas grinned. “Not Valleur food.”
She gestured at her plate. “Better.”
Quilla was soon finished, his smaller stomach
requiring less, and sat back with a satisfied sigh. “Now I feel normal.”
Torrullin grinned at him. “Never thought a
birdman could love food so much.”
“Bugger off, Enchanter.”
Torrullin, smiling, ate on.
“I must go to the Dome from here. What are you
four to do next?” Quilla asked.
“We have little purpose now,” Elianas said.
“It feels odd.”
Quilla murmured, “This could be a time to
untangle personal, um, problems.”
Elianas made a face. Lowen gulped at her wine.
Torrullin pushed his plate aside, declaring himself sated. He took to the wine
also.
Cassy laughed. “I do not think they fancy the
thought, Quilla.”
“Obviously. Idiotic.”
Torrullin changed the subject. “How fares
Tristan?”
“Well. He is in his element.”
“What does the Kaval work on at the moment?”
“We concentrate on Lax. A large portion of the
criminal element is routed, which required a prison complex. The Kaval
accomplished it in the four years we were away. Weapons are confiscated daily,
but the number lessens, thank Aaru. Axel Red, remember him? He became quite the
civic leader, using his military skills to organise the clean-up of cities. New
buildings rise month by month and a number of farms produce profitably.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Let us not fool ourselves,” Quilla added.
“Lax requires years of aid, policing and sustainable development, and at least
a generation to alter mind-set, but it is a start, yes.”
“And Ymir?”
“Better and better,” Quilla said with a smile.
“We monitor continuously in the event.”
“Ymir is safe from Nemisin.”
“I know, but we shall go on watching. The
exploitation of children has ceased, and some of the depravity Ymir is known
for. The eye in the sky keeps them on their toes. It remains a red-light world,
but rather where we know it than underground, I say.”
“True,” Torrullin murmured. He did not dare
look at Elianas.
“Excelsior, by the way, has commenced full
nuclear disarmament.”
“Excellent.”
Quilla was quiet, staring at Torrullin.
“And now?” Torrullin demanded.
“Enchanter, there might be something you can
help us with.” Quilla tapped at the table. “Seeing Elixir himself may sort them
out and you do find yourself at a loose end, do you not?”
“Yes,” Torrullin drawled.
“I think Tristan will be relieved if you take
this one.”
Elianas was curious. “What is it?”
Torrullin glanced at him. “Watch out; Quilla’s
casual purpose-induced missions usually hide underlying tensions we could do
without.”
Elianas grinned. “I like it.”
“Thought you might,” Torrullin muttered.
“Fine, Quilla, what is the problem Elixir needs deal with?”
Lowen frowned. “The mining thing, Quilla? We
agreed to wait until we could concentrate on it.”
“You, Elianas and Torrullin could do it now,”
Quilla said, “and Cassy can add a connection to her network there. It certainly
needs one.”
Torrullin required details. “Tell us.”
Quilla was all business, sidling forward to
place elbows on the table. He pushed his wine aside to make room. “Ever heard
of Echolone?”
“Isn’t that where shamans are trained?”
Torrullin murmured.
“Correct, although they have not much
influence in the spirit world.”
“Which is why we left them to it. What has
mining to do with this?”
“Prospectors recently discovered gold, which
brought geologists and engineers in, and found coal seams, underground gold,
and diamonds. Within a year Echolone has been overrun by miners of every
persuasion and major delving has commenced.”
“So? Beacon does this all the time.”
“Beacon is involved, yes. Politicking is
underway, bribing for mineral rights and concessions, and we have a host of
environmentalists’ swamping the place to prevent damage to natural regions.
Very tense, and about to explode. The Dome could find a solution, compromises
that will not destroy Echolone as a society, or we could send the miners
packing without their riches. That is not the real issue. That is background.”
Torrullin grimaced. “They found something in
the rock.”
“Yes. We do not know what it is. We already
made it known we do not sanction exploitation, which has sent folk to the
negotiation table, and we continue to monitor. The situation remains tense,
particularly regarding environmentalists …”
“Thank the gods for green junkies,” Lowen
interrupted. “They frequently alert us to a problem with the environment.”
“Agreed,” Quilla said, “but they also
periodically go overboard.”
Elianas loosed an exasperated sigh. “What did
they find in the rock?”
Quilla grinned briefly, knowing he had their
attention. “We do not know who made it, but folk act peculiarly. Erin and Shedo
paid a visit and came away perplexed. Declan wanted to go in, and then there
was an uprising on Lax. Tristan suggested we deal with Lax first before
entering as a team to Echolone.”
“But you are concerned now,” Torrullin murmured.
“The miners found a massive, sealed,
underground door. Made of steel, apparently old, and covered in glyphs.”
“Valleur?” Cassy demanded.
Quilla shook his head.
“Egyptian?” Torrullin asked.
Again, Quilla shook his head. He pointed a
finger at Torrullin. “It is unknown. You are thinking, so what? There are
civilisations built on civilisations and cities have been rebuilt on ancient
foundations - happens all the time. A door in rock is a curiosity, a matter for
archaeologists, which, by the way, has added a new dimension to the tension.
Archaeologists dig in, preventing further blasting. But there’s this; all those
who see the door claim to have a vision after. Erin had one, and so did Shedo.”
“Erin is a priestess,” Torrullin murmured.
“Shedo has not the gift. What they saw is
nothing terrible - green plains, flowers and so forth - yet it is a twist. I
think you should investigate.”
“And, naturally, my presence will put every
miner and exploiter on tippy toes.”
Quilla smiled.
“Why do you say this Echolone needs a sacred
site?” Cassy asked.
“Erin said there were tensions from ancient
times. It may be your network is able soothe it.”
Cassy nodded. “We shall consider it
carefully.”
Elianas glanced at her. “We? We are going?”
“Of course, we are,” she declared.
Lowen said, “In a time when visions have
ceased, this is an oddity.”
“I agree,” Torrullin murmured.
“Visions have ceased?” Quilla gasped. “When?”
“Since Void exit,” Lowen said.
“That is terrible! You must investigate this.”
“Inform Tristan we shall see it done,”
Torrullin stated.
Elianas grinned.
Valaris
Menllik
CABALLA, CELEBRATED VALLEUR seer, had a small house on the outskirts of the Valleur city of Menllik. She spent her time making it homely for Tristan, although she did not expect to see him much, for the Kaval took all of him in the present. Yet he would come, and she would welcome him.
Sitting on her stone porch taking a breather
from renovation, she stared south towards the Gosa Mountains, legs swinging
free from a hanging seat. Her visions had ceased. For so long she alternatively
welcomed them and wished them away, and now she was lost. What worried her
specifically was the vision she had of Tristan and the fair man at the Digilan
portal. The Syllvan suggested she examine anew, and warn Tristan, and she could
not see even the original vision. Did it mean he was safe? In the past doubt
often took her to the Three Gates where dreams were deciphered, but the Gates
had ceased in their purpose and the Valleur as a whole had stopped dreaming.
She chewed the inside of her cheek and reached
a decision.
Caballa called to Torrullin.
QUILLA HAD TAKEN
his leave to return to the Dome and the party of four left the restaurant when
Torrullin received that call. Caballa stopped swinging when she saw them. She
rose. “That was quick.” She greeted everyone.
“We were in Gasmoor.” Torrullin pecked her cheek
and briefly introduced Cassy. Saska, he knew, told her about Cassy.
Caballa smiled at the woman. “Welcome.”
Cassy dimpled. “Thank you.”
Torrullin glanced around. “You are fixing this
cottage?”
She smiled and nodded. “What do you think?”
“Good job. For you and Tristan?”
“When we touch base, yes.”
“That will not be often.”
“We are not the kind who need constant
reassurance.”
He inclined his head. “I know.”
“The
reason I called …”
“… no more visions,” Lowen murmured.
“You too?”
“All of us,” Torrullin stated. “Since the
Void.”
“The Valleur have stopped dreaming,” Caballa
added.
Elianas sank into long-legged pose on the
swinging seat. “We have always dreamed, always seen ahead.”
“And now Quilla tells us of a door where
visions come,” Torrullin murmured. “Coincidence? I think not.” He filled
Caballa in.
When he was finished, she said, “I am going
with you.”
“We could use your help.”
Lowen sat beside Elianas, and he rocked both
of them. “Torrullin, we need a linguist,” Lowen pointed out. “No one here knows
how to read what is on that door.”
“I know of no one versed in glyphs.”
“I do,” Lowen said. “Cèlaver.”
He stared at her, and an odd shudder passed
through him. Cèlaver was not a place he wished to see again. “They do not
leave.”
Lowen shrugged. “King Priam still lives and
owes both of us.” Between them, they saved the king’s life from an ambitious
minister. Cèlaver was where he found her after returning from the Plane. “I’ll
go. Since you and Tristamil brought the common tongue there, linguists have
taken on importance. Few languages escape them now.”
“Do it.”
She tilted her head in agreement, knowing it
would not be a simple task. Like to Torrullin, it was not somewhere she wished
to return to, but needs must. Cèlaver was an underground civilisation because
the surface was uninhabitable. Long evolution underground now meant sunlight
was akin to poison, and Cèlaver was insular and isolationist. “Send
co-ordinates when you are underground,” Lowen said.
“Agreed,” Torrullin murmured. “Thank you.”
Briefly acknowledging the quality of that
appreciation for the underlying meaning inherent, Lowen rose. “Then I’m off.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.” She was gone.
Elianas murmured, “You are cavalier.”
Torrullin ignored him. He was not being
highhanded; he was relieved Lowen undertook the task, but only she understood
that.
Caballa headed inside. “Let me throw a few
items into a bag. There’s coffee in the kitchen.”
Elianas glanced at his wife. “Are you strong
enough for this?”
An eyebrow arched. “Sweet caring - how novel.
Yes, I can do this. Everything is new - people, food, places, the mixture of
races, climate, language, the things you talk about. I am intrigued, challenged
and love that it is different, and want to go adventuring. Elianas, now I am
freed of my father’s yoke, I have freedom of choice also. Strength will
follow.”
“You are different.”
“You are as well, and so is he.” She gestured
at Torrullin. “Different people in different times and maybe different
mistakes. Shall we aim for that this time? Let us do this and see where we are
when we come away.”
Torrullin said, “I admire your spirit, Cassy.”
HALF AN HOUR later they headed for
Echolone. Purpose awaited. Clearly the gods were fast asleep.
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