The Nemisin Star (64 page)

“It feels
personal.”

“Of course it
does, or you would not fight hard, but this Margus is merely the
face of the moment.”

“A long
moment.”

“You know what
I mean.”

“You are
saying I was born to fight the holy fight over and over.”

“Not
necessarily.”

“I do not like
the sound of that.”

“Too bad, it
is yet the way of it, and the time will come when you make the
ultimate … choice. Hopefully, it is now.”

Torrullin
stopped. “What did you really mean to say then?”

Abdiah’s great
chest rose and fell in a huge sigh. “Sacrifice.”

He shrugged.
“Then maybe it is now.”

She gave an
unblinking stare. “Oh? What are you sacrificing?”

“A magical
place.”

“You are
playing with me.”

“No.”

Abdiah stomped
her foot and a shudder shivered through the Palace. “Now listen
here, you stubborn man! Your world is on the brink of war, like
mine, and it will happen because some idiot suddenly finds himself
brave enough to stand out from the crowd and call you traitor,
enemy, another Darak Or. They are sick of fear and it will engender
a new kind of fighting …”

“The Valleur
are in exile in the west.”

“I am glad to
hear it; you are not completely stupid then, and it dampens one
kind of spark. But, Torrullin, you are not hearing me. It is not a
human-Valleur war I speak of, but civil war, my friend. Man versus
man, no matter what race he is. You have a great number of
supporters and soon as many detractors …”

“Do not
concern yourself so,” Torrullin interrupted, “for tomorrow it will
be over. There will be no one to point a finger at.”

The massive
Dragonne Queen came to a halt in the courtyard; they had been
wandering the perimeter. “You are leaving?”

Torrullin
nodded once. “Tomorrow at dawn the Darak Or and I are to kill each
other deliberately - no, hear me. We are of one mind in this, for
we have understood that the ultimate battle will be beyond the
bounds of reality. In doing so I sacrifice the sentience of my
magical valley.”

“And
yourself.”

“I do not
regard that as a sacrifice, but if it is what you refer to, then
this may be the last holy fight.”

“The sacrifice
I was referring to is far more than your immortal form and far more
than a resident sentience, no matter how ancient it be. Tell me
this, why beyond?”

Cold, cold.
Which sacrifice, then? Tristamil? “Margus will attempt to enslave
me - or turn me - and I find it a way to prevent a reincarnate
returning.”

Abdiah stared
unblinking at the man she thought of as more than the embodiment of
a legend. He was a friend and she did not like what she heard. She
moved her great head sideways and roared at her courtiers, “Leave
us!”

Torrullin
shivered.

“You intend to
enter the invisible realms, Torrullin? Do you know it well? Can you
comprehend the depths of time in that place? Or the very
contrariness of time? The abyss of deception? Oh, I hear your noble
reason and understand his twisted one, and do you know what I
think? First, I think you are lying to me, and second I think his
plan has the greater chance of success. The Dark rules there, my
friend, and you will really need to know your way along and around
those chaotic highways to think on succeeding. Really, really know
your way. I have been there, and it is not pretty. I got out
because I was not dead; you will not have that failsafe …”

“Abdiah.”

“There are
…”

“Abdiah!”

“What?”

“Firstly, I am
not entirely ignorant. Second, there are infinite realms, and where
he learned and you delved may not only be different but also far
removed from where I go. And, third, I am a true Immortal; I am to
die here merely to alchemise for the transition. I need no
failsafe, for I am a Walker.”

A long silence
ensued as the Queen mulled, when she said, “You sacrifice nothing,
then, and the holy fight will find you again, with a new face to
the enemy.”

“You are so
supportive.”

“And you are
not harking to the full reality, Enchanter. What you do beyond
counts for nothing here. Chew on this; nobody will know who won, if
winning can be applied to anything out there.”

“It will be
known when I return.”

“To fight a
new Darkness, Torrullin! That only proves what folk will whisper
after your demise tomorrow. Wake up and smell the brimstone,
Enchanter. How will we know the Light is supreme? Do you even
comprehend the wars that will erupt in trying to prove which ideal
is the stronger? Here, my homeworld, all over the populated
universe? Nobody will know and thus you achieve little.”

“My turn,
Majesty. I prevent the annihilation of this world, I prevent the
imminent civil war you brought to my attention and I save my people
from death. Do you know how many Valleur died recently? Two of your
court must have told you of the battle and the plague. I shall end
all that. Yes, I know much will change upon my demise - such a
pretty word, Abdiah - but I also know it is the kinder thing to do.
I may not become your white knight, but I shall take the Dark with
me. And that, Majesty, is victory.”

“It will not
be enough.”

“It will
suffice.”

“It is a
compromise.”

Torrullin
breathed deeply. “Maybe.”

“And if he
enslaves you, my friend, what hope is left?”

“And if I stop
him for eternity, Abdiah? Can you comprehend the hope?”

“But we will
no know, will we?” Abdiah said, changing direction. “Do you have
the sword?”

“Sword?”
Nonplussed.

She closed her
eyes and swung her head ponderously from side to side. “I cannot
say more.” She ceased the hypnotic movement and looked at him.
“Tell me you have the re-forging tool at least.”

His hand crept
to the pouch at his neck to enclose the diamond. He paled. “How did
you know?”

“Ah,
Torrullin, you blunder forward ignorant. You dare not alchemise
until you know all truths.”

“Tell me.”

“You know how
it goes, Vallorin. I cannot reveal a telling to the one it speaks
of.” Abdiah lifted her head and shouted, “Come!” Her six companions
trooped through the open gates. “Take us to the site of your
proposed death; perhaps a revealing will take place there.”

A muscle
worked in his tense face and he nodded. “Follow me.”

The Keep

Dalrish saw
them first.

From the
heights of the battlements he shouted into the courtyard below,
“Dragons coming!”

They alighted
one by one outside the Keep and Torrullin led them in. Dalrish
hastened to ground level with the speed of a much younger man.
Gasping, he came to a stop as the last of the seven Dragons ambled
through the doors, each of the seven having glanced askance at the
mighty emblem.

“Majesty,”
Saska murmured, bowing.

“My Lady,”
Abdiah returned with a similar bow. She bowed to Vannis. “Lord
Vannis. It is good to see you both once more.”

“Likewise,
Queen Abdiah,” Vannis smiled, sketching a courtly bow.

“And you,
Q’li’qa’mz.”

The birdman
fluttered his wings. “We are happy to welcome you to our world,
Majesty. And those of your court. Only six this time?”

Abdiah
inclined her head. “We are not here to war, merely to witness.”

“Interfering
witness,” Torrullin mumbled, and noticed Dalrish at the foot of the
stairs. “Abdiah, may I present to you someone who dearly desires to
meet the Kallanon? This is Le Moss Mar Dalrish.”

Dalrish bowed
low. “It is an honour indeed, Your Majesty, and also a great relief
to put childhood fears to bed.”

Abdiah’s great
body shook as she chuckled. “Childhood fears, I like that! I
believe I am going to like you, you have spark! Well met … surely
you do not expect beings to get their tongues around your mouthful
of a name?”

Dalrish
grinned. “Dalrish will do, Your Majesty.”

“Much better.
You are human?”

“I am, Your
Majesty.”

“Valarian?”

“Xenian.”

“Ah, like Matt
- of course, the likeness, and you are Dalrish also. Family?”

“We are
cousins, yes.”

“Are you a
sorcerer?”

“A
scientist.”

“A scientist?
Now, Torrullin, why do you have need of a scientist when your magic
is capable of any task? No, do not enlighten me; I would like to
guess …” She paused, catching a movement. “Ah, our beloved Priest!
Tristamil, it is good to see you.”

Tristamil
approached with bleary eyes; he had just awakened. “Majesty. You
are surely a sight for sore eyes.”

“You young
impudent …!” Abruptly she paused. “Come closer, young man.”
Tristamil did so and she bent her head to stare directly into his
eyes. She shook her head and asked, “Where has your Light gone,
Priest?”

Tristamil
backed away. “There is no Light on Valaris.” His hand went to his
sword. “This is useless here.”

Abdiah swung
to Torrullin. “Do you begin to see now, my friend? If your son no
longer trusts, how do you expect others to function on faith alone?
You must repair the damage on this good earth first, before you
follow through with your foolhardy scheme. Do you hear this? And I
further state to all present here, if you leave anything undone,
you will fail in the etheric.”

Torrullin was
about to lose his temper.

Abdiah rode
roughshod over him. “Your son needs to have the Light! Your other
son must embrace the Dark fully! Has he done that? He should be
here for all to know him! And where is the sentience of this
valley? You sacrifice nothing if it has withdrawn - you must get it
back! You need to release the Lady from the burdens you have placed
upon her soul or she will be useless in her magnificent calling!
AND you need to learn more of the etheric. Being Walker tells you
bugger all. Now tell me how ready you are! Are you done? NO! And if
you can do these final things by morning and yet be fresh, calm and
confident, my friend, I shall salute you into eternity.”

Torrullin
glared. And swore.

“I can curse
with the best of them!” Abdiah shouted at him. “You need your
sword! You need to know why the Kallanon speak Valleur!”

“Anything
else?” Torrullin sneered.

“Yes! You need
an outlet for that intense fury within; it is eating you
alive.”

“I am not
angry.”

“No? The
slightest provocation, my friend, and you will explode with no
recourse to withdrawal. How will that aid you tomorrow?”

“Goddess,
Abdiah, I believe you are goading me!”

“I am, you
idiot! And another thing … I want to meet the Darak Or. I want to
talk to him.”

“Why?”

“Because I
lied as well. I
am
here to go to war. Preparing you will
fight my war and if I am able to glean anything from the Darak Or
that proves to your advantage, then I would do so. I am not a
witness; I am a biased soldier of the Light and this is how I
choose to fight.”

Torrullin’s
anger dissipated and he laughed aloud. “The gods help Margus! Fine,
Abdiah, you will have your face to face with the Darak Or.”

Abdiah bobbed
her head. “Now you are a team player. One snag …”

Quilla
murmured, “We can arrest time for these … issues.”

Abdiah turned
to him. “Birdman, the Kallanon are in your debt.”

A Dragon
cannot play with a bipedal.

~ Kallanon
saying

The Keep

D
alrish
had to leave.

Abdiah
insisted his biology would not accept the time shift, and Quilla
agreed.

Thus Dalrish
reluctantly gripped Torrullin and Vannis’ arms in ritual greeting
and said his farewells without fanfare. Quilla took him west, where
Lowen had a thousand and one questions.

Cat was
nowhere to be seen.

The six
Kallanon were sent from the Keep and stood like sentinels, three on
either side of the Dragon doors.

Saska offered
them food and drink and was gracefully denied. They apparently had
the necessary energy to sustain for a long while. Nevertheless
Saska took out a pitcher of water, placing it within easy reach of
the statues they became.

She found she
felt more secure … and calmer.

“He comes and
goes, Abdiah. I will call to him, but he will come only if it suits
him,” Torrullin explained.

It was an hour
later and they were in the courtyard. Abdiah had raised her brow at
the dead tree and also noticed the missing cobbles. Perhaps she
assumed that was the way of things - slight disrepair.

“It means he
has the upper hand,” the Dragonne Queen frowned, displeased. “You
must tumble the proverbial on him.”

There was a
thoughtful silence and then Torrullin sent,
Margus, the Kallanon
are here. Stay away; these are my friends.

He had not
before communicated via mindspeak with the Darak Or and knew not if
it would work, knew also Margus was likely attuned.

Lo, a moment
later Margus put in an appearance, alighting in the courtyard with
a cocksure swagger.

“Ah, Margus.
Someone here would like to meet you.”

A frown. “You
tricked me.”

“Reverse
psychology. Queen Abdiah - Margus.”

Margus neared.
“Majesty.”

“Well, you
prove to be a surprise,” Abdiah murmured. “Perhaps it is our
predisposed image of what is immoral that gives to us our wrongful
impression of the features of evil. You are a beautiful man.”

“Thank you, I
have found it to my advantage,” smiled Margus.

“Indeed.
Torrullin, leave us.”

“Excuse me?”
he barked out, off guard.