Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) (12 page)

BOOK: Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1)
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Silence descended after the old woman’s statement—made eerily starker by her matter-of-fact delivery.

Crystalyn swallowed. “When do we leave?” she found herself asking.

The Lore Mother’s shoulders seemed hunched when she stood. Life’s burdens, her age, recent events; it all must weigh heavy upon her. “As soon as you’re packed, meet us at the stables. The Child of Night can show you the way. It is going to be a long road. We shall require a wagon, but I fear our chances for finding one are dismal with the Snow Melt Festival commencing. Come along you two,” she said quietly, motioning at Cudgel, who was helping Lore Rayna to her feet. “We must pack. I wish to be traveling within the hour, if Rayna is capable of it.” Clasping Lore Rayna’s elbow, the old woman supported her student on one side, Cudgel on the other.

Watching them leave, Crystalyn wondered if going anywhere with the three of them was a good idea, especially traveling with Cudgel. What would stop her from having another altercation with the man? Did it matter? She could take care of herself, even against all three at once. How bad could it get?

 

THE FINAL APEX

Peeking outside the pantry door, Crystalyn made out the tavern bar. The barmaid who’d attempted to take their order at the booth was working again, pouring drinks to robust, short-statured patrons garbed in silver armor. Perhaps the same envoy Hastel had mentioned when he’d sent the barmaid to see to them. The innkeeper was nowhere in sight. Crystalyn smiled and withdrew into the pantry.

Meat pies, apples, loaves of bread, dried meats, and blocks of cheese vanished into Atoi’s leather-bound bag. Hefting the bag with one hand, the tiny girl set it back on the wooden cutting table. Rummaging through spices in the walk-in pantry, Atoi added her selections to Crystalyn’s pack, not the bag.

Crystalyn’s impatience flared. “You’re overfilling them, just take the essentials. Give me my pack, Mr. Muddy Wagon himself could show up at any time,” Crystalyn said, holding out her hand. Atoi brought it to her, going back to filling her own without comment. Putting her daypack on, Crystalyn winced. The weight of it pulled on her shoulders, yet the little girl had carried it with one hand.

Both hands gripping food accouterments, Atoi flipped her head back and shook her long, black bangs from her eyes. Potatoes, carrots, and additional meat, disappeared into her bag. She spoke as she worked. “Weeping face usually wants a nap after his breakfast. At least, that’s what I’ve heard his lazy helpers say when they think no one’s listening. Look how the white flour has turned brown from the missing lid. Do you think they worry about this place?” Atoi asked. She gestured with a onion stalk toward a nondescript clay bin with its matching lid lying to the side.

“You’re right. It’s time to motivate the help again,” Hastel’s gravelly voice said from behind Crystalyn.

Crystalyn jumped. Failing her arms, she skidded in spilled flour and grease. Gaining her balance, she turned and glared at the man.

Stepping under the doorway with room to spare, Hastel leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, a smirk playing on his chapped lips. Then his brown eye narrowed, rotating between Crystalyn’s taut backpack straps and Atoi’s open bag, the grin vanishing. “Going somewhere, little one?”

“Yes I am. Stop glaring at me,” Atoi said. “I’ll pay you well for the supplies, you know I have coin.” Hefting her bag, Atoi pursed her lips. “Where are the sweet tarts? I’ll make the space; yours are the best around.”

Hastel gestured at a woven green basket “In the bread bin, they don’t last long, so we make them daily.” He folded his beefy arms across his broad chest. “You’re changing the subject. I don’t care about the fare. What’s important is where you’re going.”

Crystalyn was amazed. “Why would we tell you? We don’t want to get ambushed a few miles from here.”

Lifting the brown rag draped on his shoulder, Hastel daubed at his jagged wound. Ignoring her question, he scowled in silence, his eye fixed on Atoi. Crystalyn glanced at her protégé, wondering if it was the right way to consider her. She did feel responsible for the little girl, even though Atoi had attempted to kill her—twice—and steal the black crystal candle.

The little girl was an enigma. She’d shown a fierce independence, but lacked the basic social skills, yet she seemed knowledgeable well beyond her ten seasons. And, there was the other voice that kept showing up; she couldn’t forget that. Perhaps on the road, she’d have the opportunity to delve deeper into Atoi’s psyche, which should provide a clue into why the little girl was so murderous at times and perhaps bring the other voice into the open.

Her list of things to accomplish was growing. Three items were clear priorities: discovering the motives behind the giant trio, learning about the war and Darwin’s part in it, and locating her sister, not necessarily in that order. Somewhere in the list would be figuring out a way to get home. “Pay him what he wants, Atoi. We need to be at the stable soon.”

Atoi lifted the lid on the long rectangular basket and set it to the side. Tossing the leather bag beside the basket, she wrapped the pastries separately in waxy leaves then placed them in a small, urn-like basket, which she placed in her bulging bag. “The demanding woman will wait for us. I do not think she’s found what she’s after.”

Hastel straightened, his voice taking on a pleading tone. “You don’t mean those bloody Naturists, do you? Tell me you’re not leaving with the old mother and her giant student, are you? They never go anywhere without the warrior Cudgel. He thinks he’s the greatest swinging stick alive. At some point, I’m going to
splinter
that belief. You can’t trust them. The Naturist’s follow some master plan known only to them. They force anyone they deem necessary to the plan to adhere to it too, by coercion or trickery, sometimes both.” Swinging his head back and forth between the two of them, he waited for a reply. When none came immediately, he went on. “What are you after at the stables? Tell me, please?”

Neither girl spoke. Finally, Crystalyn looked at Atoi. “I don’t trust him. Let’s be on our way. Pay him in full. Leaving debts behind is like setting a snare and forgetting it’s there, but eventually you pass through that way again, as my dad would say if he were here.”

Shrugging, Atoi tightened her drawstring, and then slung it over her head. A smaller bag tied at her waist, clinked, when she tugged it free from her tiny waist. “One silver should cover this as well as my remaining tabs, leaving you with a handsome tip.”

Crystalyn had no idea what she could buy for gold or silver, let alone copper, on Astura. She hoped to figure it out before having to use it.

Hastel’s one eye gazed at them like a bird of prey waiting for a varmint to break cover. “Fine,” he said. Don’t tell me then. You won’t find a wagon during the festival, anyway. They’re at least a week out.”

Crystalyn regarded the one-eyed man. “We never mentioned a wagon.”

“It doesn’t take much of a presumption on my part to figure out what those three would need at the stable. Some of them are too big for most horses,” Hastel said bluntly. “I have a wagon I’ll fully provision at no cost to you.”

Crystalyn was surprised. “What do you want?”

“Not a thing. It will all be free, including your tabs. However, there is one condition,” Hastel replied, pausing to draw a deep breath.
There’s always a condition,
Crystalyn thought. “You have to take me with you or no deal for anything. I won’t sell you the wagon
or
the foodstuffs you have in the bag. You’ll have to get them somewhere else. And, your room fee will now be ten times greater. I doubt Atoi has the coin to cover that.” Hastel folded his arms at his chest and fixed his eye on Crystalyn, making no move to wipe at his oozing wound.

Crystalyn’s surprise grew. “Are you serious? How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t. Nevertheless, I have what you need. Besides, I can be a big asset around camp. I am a horseman, I handle myself well in a fight, and I can cook.”

“Battle expert, huh? Yet, you lost your eye and gained a wicked wound.”

Hastel frowned. “Perhaps, your young friend will tell you about my wound on our journey. Dabbing at the putrid flow once again, his scowl softened. “Are you going to accept my offer? Think carefully, someone else on your side against the three Naturists wouldn’t hurt.”

Crystalyn glanced at Atoi, wondering what the girl knew about the man’s wound, though it would have to wait. She envisioned a divine clock winding down in her search for Jade. “What do you think? Should I let him come?”

Atoi shrugged. “It’s not I that wants the wagon; I can run to Surbo with little effort. I have the coin, either way.” Shifting the bag on her shoulder, the little girl strode through the opposite door in which Hastel stood without another word.

A thought occurred to Crystalyn. “Why risk leaving your inn behind to travel with us?”

Staring at the doorway Atoi had left through, Hastel answered with no hesitation. “She needs watched over, someone to care for her.”

“Then you don’t know her that well. Atoi can handle herself better than anyone I’ve met, so far.”

Hastel’s one eye fixed on her, but he kept his silence.

Crystalyn was at a quandary. She could use some help, but his coming along as a travel companion left little in the way of desire, the man was a smelly eyesore. But he had a wagon. With a little luck, perhaps they could slip away from town without him after picking up his wagon or get him to change his mind and stay behind. If not, another person around to keep an eye on Miss Dagger wouldn’t hurt. “You guessed right about my travel companions. Tell me, can you get along?”

“What choice do I have?”

“None, if you want to come.”

“Then I’m coming for Atoi. And you, as long as you’re with her.”

Crystalyn gaped, it almost sounded noble in a way. “You do know, she’s maybe ten seasons of age, and appears to hate the very sight of you.”

“Appearance is an illusion some learn to project with skill. I can live with it.”

“Don’t be cryptic; I’ve already decided you can come as long as you do what I say. The first time you don’t, you’re on your way. Is that clear?”

Eye gleaming, Hastel permitted a brief half-smile to show. He gave a deep nod. “You’re in charge. I’ll need to order my affairs here. Could I meet you at the stables in one bell with your assurance you won’t leave without me?”

Crystalyn kept her face smooth, though she wanted to roll her eyes. “Very well, you have my word.”

Grinning, Hastel spun, slipping back the way he’d entered.

Turning away, Crystalyn began her journey. Somehow, she’d make it all work. Hastel had a wagon. She wouldn’t hesitate to use whoever and whatever useful items she could, if it meant locating Jade faster, though she found it hard to trust the man. With luck, the Lore Mother had located a wagon by now, and they could leave without him.

Atoi waited for her inside the main kitchen, her green eyes brightening briefly. It was the only indication her pale companion was excited to begin a journey. As she motioned for Atoi to lead the way, Crystalyn wondered how far to trust her. Though the young girl had stabbed her, Atoi still seemed like her oldest companion. She was the first person met upon arriving here on, Astura. It was hard to believe she was stuck on another world. So was Jade. Dad must be beside himself with worry. A sharp pang of remorse struck her, it was her own doing; she’d colossally blown it this time. Tears blurred her vision. She was glad Atoi wasn’t looking back. Rounding water basins, prep counters, and bread racks, Atoi led her through the deserted kitchen to the rear. Crystalyn dabbed her eyes, and then pinched her nostrils closed. Strong spice smells made her want to sneeze “Where’s the kitchen help?”

Pushing open an iron-banded wooden door in the rear, Atoi paused, holding it cracked open as she peered outside. “They’re eating with the overnight boarders in the tavern. Do you want something before we go?”

“I’m not a morning eater.”

They entered a side alley between the tavern and another brown stone building the same length as the Muddy Wagon Inn. Rancid refuse piles lined both walls. Choosing her footing, she stayed near Atoi. Scanning the area ahead and behind, the little girl kept an observant vigil on their route, her tiny head in constant motion. Crystalyn looked around. With all the barrels and wooden crates stacked along both sides, the alley could hide those seeking to do harm. Little Miss Dagger might prove to be a useful companion.

The alley opened to a noisy red clay thoroughfare. At early mid-morning, the hard-packed road was crowded. Townspeople garbed in plain leather hurried past occasional armed guards patrolling in front and behind merchants dressed in bright silks. The merchants called back and forth to each other across the busy street as gaudy caravan wagons pulled by a team of horses rambled past open-bed wagons harnessed to sturdy draft horses. Mounted riders threaded their way among the slower-moving wagons. Each claimed their portion of the street.

Setting a brisk pace, Atoi stepped onto a walkway built from rough-hewn lumber worn smooth from muddied feet. Townspeople strolled past in groups, some loitered near a chandlery storefront, or mixed with the crowd, shouldering their way in and out of establishments displaying produce out front. Nearby, a barbershop promoting women’s hairstyling squatted next to a mercantile store advertising items ranging from saddles to clothing in window displays.

Slender and small, Atoi flitted through the crowd like a dragonfly buzzing past a pond of reeds. Flashing a heel or an elbow now and then, she danced away before most knew she’d passed. Ignoring the new sights, Crystalyn concentrated on keeping up. Even so, many storefronts and dozens of nameless faces filtered through from the periphery. The culture on Astura varied beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

Slipping past a finely dressed couple, Crystalyn approached her guide, who waited at the entrance to a side street. “The axle master’s yard is at the edge of town this way, though the others won’t be there for a time,” Atoi said. “Do you want to go to the town square and look around the festival?”

Crystalyn looked further along the packed street. A writhing wall of congestion became noticeably worse closer to what she guessed was the town’s center. “What is the Snowmelt Festival?”

“Every new spring, when the mountain passes melt enough to allow merchants, ranchers, farmers, and outlying villages safe passage to a crossroads city like the Four Bridges, there’s a festival. It is an opportunity for buying seed for planting, purchasing depleted winter supplies, and bartering for Kell fur from winter traps, but it also permits the young women to put their wrist ring on the Grappling Pole. The pole, a hewn tree really, is always a spectacle holding everyone’s attention. It will start soon and we can always use the coin. Shall we go?”

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