The Kallanon Scales Read Online Free PDF Page B

the future.”
    There are Dragons in my future, he
once hurled at Quilla.
    In twenty-five
years of peace he forgot that statement, and now it came back to
haunt him.

Chapter
4
     
    To unmask a
friend is hard, but to strip pretence from a close relative
hurts.
    ~ Truth
     
     
    The Keep
     
    T orrullin stood in the chamber
leading off the courtyard, cleared of furniture and
accessories.
    When he gave
that particular command, word filtered into the Valleur city of
Menllik. The Vallorin required space for something, and there could
only be one object he required it for. When Elders asked outright,
Torrullin confirmed his intentions.
    Eyes bulged
and the widest grins split faces; Torrullin grimaced and walked
away.
    Valleur began
arriving at the Keep to bear witness.
    The chamber’s
walls were unadorned, the floor polished cedar. Doors recessed to
reveal the full chamber to the courtyard, summer heat already
warming it. In the far wall rose-tinted windows gave view onto the
spectacular Arrows. An ageing stand of oaks in the foreground
softened the angular planes of the mountains.
    The space
could accommodate a hundred standing. This chamber, in the building
of the Keep, was a compromise, a place to greet visitors and guests
and entertain lavishly, and large enough to accept the Throne in an
emergency.
    He never
intended to bring the seat here. In his mind the Keep was home, the
Throne was business. In recent years he mused on Menllik as a
likely location, the building of a royal palace.
    He sensed
Vannis join him. “It’s small and plain.”
    Vannis
grinned. Every Vallorin preferred to inspire.
    “It need not
be, Enchanter.” Quilla entered from the dining room, holding a
sweet roll. “Think of the Lifesource. It is larger than it presents
to the eye.”
    “And how do I
create the same here?” The Lifesource was city-sized in span, but
within one could wander for eternity. “Won’t that kind of
manipulation warp the Keep?”
    “It does not
harm the aesthetics of the Lifesource, does it? It is a thing of
the mind. You carry part of the Q’lin’la inside you. You can create
a doorway here in the fabric of this space without unduly taxing
yourself.”
    “And the
words, Quilla?”
    Tristamil and
Tymall approached from the courtyard, intrigued.
    The Throne’s
renewal was a great feat, particularly submerged as it was, but it
was a tradition they knew of, magic intrinsic. The words were
inviolate. Would their father do something great here before he
approached the Throne?
    Quilla
laughed. “That would make this my space. If you desire greatness
here, you will know what to do.”
    “If I knew the words,” Tymall said, “could I do it?”
    Quilla turned.
“You suggest it requires little to achieve distortion of
space.”
    Tymall glanced
at his father. “I am asking if the power lies in words.”
    “Indeed it
does. Q’lin’la sorcery is unwritten. If your father wants to do
this, he will find the words never having heard them before. And
remember, your father cannot get his tongue around the mysteries of
the Q’lin’la language. Even if he could, and spoke them, not one of
us here would hear him.”
    “The magic is
personal, within,” Tristamil said, thumping his chest.
    Quilla nodded,
pleased.
    “Then how can
he know?” Tymall asked.
    “Your father
is the One.”
    “Quilla, you
are placing me on a pedestal before my sons, and you place added
pressure on me in doing so.”
    “I am not!”
Quilla exclaimed, aghast at such a thought.
    Torrullin
laughed, winking at Tymall, who grinned back.
    There was a
commotion at the Dragon doors and Torrullin stepped into the bright
sunlight to investigate. True to prediction the storm passed in the
early hours and the world was one of glittering jewels.
    “Torrullin!” A
shout from the doors, and a dark-haired man strode nearer, skirting
the mosaic pool.
    “Taranis! I
didn’t sense your transport.”
    “Horseback.
What kind of surprise am I if you know I am on my