Free The Kallanon Scales by Elaina J Davidson

safe?”
    Tymall
whistled through clenched teeth.
    “I saw to it
myself. What is this about?”
    The
premonition remained. “Kisha and Kylan have been murdered.”
    Vannis took an
involuntary step back. “When? How?”
    “I cannot get Raken and Lycea out of my mind. Vannis, go now. ”
    Vannis
vanished.
    Quilla,
Taranis, come.
    They were
there. Torrullin had difficulty breathing and could not speak,
despite Taranis’ urgent demands. He leaned on the wall like to
Shep, seeking strength in an inanimate nothing when it could not
feel the pain, and Shep looked at him in understanding and
sympathy.
    Tristamil
imparted the news and Taranis’ shocked gasp slid like a knife into
his heart. Quilla was angry, a rare condition for the birdman, and
cursed in Q’lin’la.
    Torrullin
lifted his eyes to the round Valleur beside him. “How?”
    Shep’s welled
anew. Krikian came to his rescue and Shep sagged.
    “They were
strung from a tree.” Krikian’s voice was as neutral as he could
make it, but nothing could hide the underlying horror in his tone.
Krikian, dream expert, would have nightmares over this. Torrullin
closed his eyes on hearing those words. “They were tortured before
death released them,” Krikian added, and had to clear his throat
after uttering those dreadful words.
    Taranis asked, “Who would do this?”
    “We checked
for evidence, if superficially, and there were no marks in the
grass, not a blade bent, as if no one had been there. It was hard
to do, but we wanted to give a clear image of …” Krikian found
himself speared by his ruler’s grey gaze. He straightened. “Their
home is tidy; nothing seems disturbed. It wasn’t sorcery, the
torture was real. The rope used was the kind Kylan manufactured
from the strangler vines.”
    “Are they
still there?” Torrullin asked.
    “We cut them
down, my Lord,” Shep replied. His Vallorin seemed about to
shatter.
    “We laid them
out, covered them, and checked the area for intruders,” Krikian
added.
    “Where is
Vannis?” Taranis asked, not realising how loaded that question was.
When Tymall explained, he nodded sombrely.
    Torrullin
twitched hard.
    “Father?”
Tymall gasped.
    Torrullin
turned a pallid face to his sons, to Taranis, but his eyes glazed.
Tristamil gripped his arm. “Vannis is screaming.” The words were
like brittle paper, shattering the world.
    “ My god! ”
Taranis burst out, losing colour also.
    Quilla covered
his cherubic face with tiny hands.
    The twins were
transfixed.
    Shep
sobbed.
    Krikian
crossed his arms as if to protect from harm.
    Vannis came
then, and Vannis was not sane.
    “My Raken is dead ! I shall disembowel the creature! Who did this?” Vannis grabbed
Torrullin. “ Do you
know? ”
    Torrullin
side-stepped that murderous anger and manoeuvred behind the
flailing Valleur to get a grip on the man’s rigid shoulders. He
pressed and rendered Vannis paralysed, catching him as he crumbled.
He lifted the dead weight and placed him with exaggerated care in
one of the fold up chairs.
    “I do not
know, Vannis, I swear, and we shall not rest until whoever did this
pays,” Torrullin said. He knelt before the catatonic man. “I am
with you, hear me? Do not surrender now. I cannot lose you.”
    Vannis
blinked.
    Torrullin
quested for Lycea.
    Emptiness
returned.
    Too late.
    His head sank
to rest briefly on Vannis’ knees.
    Taranis collapsed into a chair and was so pale Torrullin
thought his father was about to have a heart attack. He used it as
a diversion, or he would scream as Vannis had. A thin line of white sweat
surrounded Taranis’ lips. Grey eyes were blind in grief and shock.
Squashing for the moment the impotent fury within, Torrullin
returned his attention to Vannis.
    “I cannot allow you to hurt yourself, you see that, don’t
you? You will not be rash now. Calm and coherent, Vannis,
and we shall deal with
this. ” His voice caught, for he loved
Raken well, and Lycea.
    The fire left
those yellow eyes and Vannis