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stared at her. “Choice does not always mean you know
what you will find.” It was a reference to their earlier words. “I
was ill-prepared for the normality of the place.”
    “Normality is
relative.”
    “Indeed.”
    “I saw it. The
Plane.”
    He stiffened.
“How?”
    She had
revealed too much. The Plane could only be accessed in death or
reincarnation, neither of which should be within her
experiences.
    “I choked on
chalk dust in the lower caverns and couldn’t breathe …” His gaze
fixed on her. “Krikian said I died briefly before he brought me
back.” That was true, although the time was too brief for the soul
to exit. “I saw the Plane, although I couldn’t enter.”
    “How could you
die so easily, being immortal?”
    “Immortals can
die, Torrullin.”
    He nodded,
giving her explanation the benefit of the doubt. “How do you know
it was the Plane?”
    “A flatland
realm, with a sun and season for each region. A dark, depthless,
frightening ocean, without tides, yet moving. Land that was so
familiar it was alien, and a wormhole connection to our
reality.”
    “You saw all
that in so brief a time?”
    “From above,
like a blink in timelessness, and then it was gone, and I opened my
eyes and started to breathe.”
    “Gods.”
    She grinned.
“We’re driving ourselves mad. Come, let us eat and be normal.”
    “Normal is
relative,” he smiled, his heart thumping over what she revealed,
and what she left unsaid.
    “I know,” she
said, laughing. “Will you eat?”
     
     
    Later she
said, “Krikian will pull us back into this reality.”
    He did not
meet her gaze. “I thought as much.”
    “He’ll be back
tonight.”
    “And then we
go?”
    “If you’re
ready.”
    He barked a
laugh and did not speak.
    “Tell me of
Valaris. Tell me why you came back.”
    He looked at
her. “You make it sound as if I had the choice to stay away.”
    “There was
more than one thing to bring you back. I’m interested to know what
that was.”
    “Have you
heard nothing?”
    “Down here?
Please, these people are too insular. Barring the twisting of this
cavern, an indication that some darak force was loosed, we heard
nothing.”
    “Tymall is the
darak force and he is the reason I’m back.”
    She drew
breath. “Oh.”
    He grunted and
lay back on the blanket, twisting hands behind his head.
    In a singsong
voice he told her what happened since his return from the
Plane.
    He told her he
brought Margus back to help with Tymall, and revealed Tymall
kidnapped Saska and the subsequent rescue, the fall of Fay,
explaining she was Mitrill and Caltian’s daughter and Tannil’s
sister and fell for Tymall, and spoke about Samuel, the descendent
of Skye and Tristamil and therefore a Valla kinsman, Caballa able
to see, Tannil’s state of mind, the Throne and the secret endeavour
of Lucan and Samuel. He told her how close he came to entering the
realm of Aaru, hoping to find Tristamil.
    With Lowen as
listener, one told all, and did so without excuses meant to qualify
one’s actions. And one kept one’s voice neutral so she could not
gauge one’s hell.
    At the end of
the long and uninterrupted monologue, he rolled onto his stomach,
rested his chin on his hands, and waited on her first response. Few
people could surprise the way Lowen could.
    She was not
looking at him and her face was pensive. “I cannot have
children.”
    It was
unexpected and was such a complicated reaction he could say
nothing, but he lowered his forehead to his arms.
    “It’s okay,
Torrullin,” he heard her say. “I meant only I can never know the
torment you live with. I wonder if I should thank my lucky
stars.”
    He raised his
head, expression unreadable. “Do you want an answer to that?”
    “What would
you say?”
    Torrullin
pushed himself up, rose, and began to chuck leftovers into the
basket.
    “You can’t
answer, can you?”
    With a snarl
he tossed the empty wine bottle into the canopy. “No.”
    “Tell me this,
had you the