Free The Kallanon Scales by Elaina J Davidson Page B

enlightening. Our father is angry beyond
rage and the darkness that is Destroyer thrives on that.”
    “Your father
is often angry, Tymall,” Taranis said. “This is different.”
    Tristamil
stared at Taranis. Often angry? He shifted to Tymall. “You say
nothing? You hope to see the darkness?”
    Tymall
smiled.
    Torrullin
paced away, fighting the battle.
    “Ty! Do
something!” Tristamil said.
    Torrullin
turned. “Not Ty!” His eyes were almost black.
    “Do you not
realise, brother,” Tymall said, “that any connection to Destroyer
would worsen the dark inside me?”
    “I suggest you
shut up, Tymall,” Torrullin ground out.
    Vannis strode
back, face a mask. “It is not Destroyer I am worried about.” He
grabbed, caught Torrullin, and tore his tunic open to expose the
creature on his chest.
    The Dragon
leapt out, almost separate. Vannis hissed and Quilla, somewhere,
gave a horrified gasp. Vannis gripped Torrullin’s shoulders, and
glared into those black eyes.
    “I am the one
who wants to destroy worlds right now! How can you be so selfish?”
Torrullin stilled and his eyes narrowed in greater fury, and that
moment of stillness was what Vannis needed. He glowered at the
Dragon. It clawed out to reach him, to tear and maim. He yelled in
an ancient Valleur dialect, and the creature hesitated. It subsided
an instant later and took with it Destroyer.
    Torrullin’s
eyes cleared. “I was not being selfish.”
    “So you say.”
Vannis glared at him.
    “Well, the Dragon can separate,” Tymall drawled.
    “Shut up!”
Tristamil shouted.
    Quilla was
speechless.
    Torrullin drew
himself together and gripped Vannis’ arm. “Did you see Lycea?”
    Vannis
slumped. “Forgive me, but Raken, the way I found her, I had not the
presence of mind to look.”
    Tristamil
shuddered, drawing his father’s attention. Torrullin closed in and
stood a moment looking at him. “This has been your first trial, and
it does not get easier, but you did well. Now will you permit me to
help you?”
    Always the
brothers asked him for help. Tristamil blinked. “Yes.”
    Torrullin
placed one hand upon Tristamil’s cheek. “Calm, Tristamil, as
ephemeral as it is.”
    Inside, a
settling of nerves. “Thank you.”
    Tymall
swore.
    Torrullin
moved to him. “I am able to do so for you.”
    Tymall
squeezed his eyes shut and then, “I am fine.”
    Torrullin
nodded and said, “Shep, call Krikian back.”
    They gathered
around to hear him speak.
    “Eight of us
have knowledge of the Mysor mystery and we keep it that way. We
remain together and when apart we cover our backs. The ceremony
goes ahead, but none here will prepare for it until we have buried
our dead. We do this duty together.” He glanced at Vannis. “Do you
want to go to the Palace first?”
    “The Forest,
and maybe that will numb me enough to see Raken without … the
Forest first. You go to the Palace for Lycea.”
    Torrullin drew
breath. “We remain together. A delay will make no difference
now.”
    “You sought
her signature.”
    “Emptiness,”
Torrullin whispered.
    Vannis gripped
his shoulder. “The Forest first.”

Chapter
8
     
    Worlds shudder
over the injustice.
    ~ Alari’s
genocide
     
     
    The Great
Forest
     
    T he bodies lay under a
tree.
    Together in
death as in life - Shep had known that. Shep hung back, but the
others stood over what remained of Kisha and Kylan.
    Their clothes
were torn and there were numerous burns on their arms and legs.
There were cuts in line with the veins under the skin, with those
veins exposed. Streaks of dried blood patterned their arms.
    Kisha’s fair
hair was scorched and Kylan’s lay in dark bloody clumps at the base
of the tree.
    Tymall turned
aside to retch.
    Here, in the
Great Forest, darak entered, and no trace remained.
    We shall find them, Torrullin
vowed.
    They dug
graves beside the house and laid them reverently into the rich
earth of the bountiful Forest.
    No one said anything over twin mounds of freshly turned