The Echolone Mine by Elaina J Davidson Page A

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.
     
     
    Menllik
    Valaris
     
    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.
“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 smiled. “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. “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 inclined
her head, knowing it would not be a simple task. Cèlaver was an
underground