Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) (17 page)

SELF-PRESERVATION

Crystalyn’s head throbbed loud in her ears, matching her heartbeat. Gripping Ferral’s saddle by the pommel, she hoisted her sickened body onto the palomino’s back only to nearly fall off the opposite side. Swaying, she retched again, but there wasn’t anything left inside to expel. Ferral stood stoic and solid, as if he sensed her frailty.
What a dismal sight I must be,
she thought.

After a whil
e
—
how long she couldn’t sa
y
—
she looked up to see Atoi trotting around a bend in the trail only mildly surprised by the girl’s sudden appearance; Atoi had a way of surviving. Yet she still wondered how the little girl had managed to stay alive on a world where the simple act of enjoying flowers in the warm sunlight could turn so violent so fast. Perhaps, the entity inside her had something to do with her survival. Perhaps she’d simply learned how to handle herself over the seasons.

Skidding to a halt, Atoi gazed up at her, a strange expression on her face. “How bad are your wounds? Are you going to meet The Maker, Onan?” Her interest seemed genuine.

Crystalyn blinked. Then she realized what her companion meant. “I’m not going to die for a while, at least I hope not. The blood isn’t mine, so don’t be too disappointed.”

Jumping over a tree root, Atoi picked up her dagger, then hesitated, her wide eyes suddenly wary. “I won’t ask how you escaped, as long as you don’t ask me,” she said, putting her left arm behind her back and hiding the angry red welt half encircling her wrist.

Crystalyn’s reply was immediate. “It’s a deal.” She didn’t want to know about it or the welt. Nor did she want to talk about the mess steaming on the wagon trail. “Let’s go. I need to find a stream.” Coaxing Ferral to a slow trot required minimal pressure; the palomino seemed to want to leave the place as much as she did. As they went around the bend Atoi had so gracefully sprinted from moments ago, her stomach protested Ferral’s swaying motion and her head protested every jolt of his long legs. She kept going, clamping her jaw to the pain.

Running beside the horse with the elegance of a wild deer able to look graceful in any terrain, Atoi gestured to a small grove of evergreens below a decline. “There’s water on the other side of those trees. After this, the wagon trail begins heading downhill.”

Crystalyn didn’t care what the trail was doing. She wanted to get to the water. The blood was beginning to dry, becoming uncomfortably sticky. Easing Ferral into a canter, she covered the distance to the stream swiftly.

A tug on the reins brought the horse a standstill beside the clear running water that cut through the wagon trail. Crystalyn jumped to the ground with a grimace, her head still tender. Wordlessly, Atoi handed her a Falun leaf. Crystalyn waded to the streams center where she began splashing frigid water wherever her skin was bare, scrubbing furiously with the aid of the marvelous gel. Most of the blood and gore washed away from her skin, but her clothes would need something else besides her fingers to clean them. She splashed water on the bigger stains anyway. When her own blood began to congeal in her veins, she trudged through the frigid water to stand beside Ferral. Head down, the reins floating in the stream, Ferral drank noisily, making no move to shy away. “I’m surprised he’s still here,” she mused.

Atoi squatted upstream, holding a leather bladder underwater until the air bubbles no longer rose to the surface. “Hastel’s big horse, you mean? It must like you. Weeping Face complains he hasn’t been able to train it to stay put.”

As if the mention of their companion brought them, the wagon rounded the bend, Hastel driving this time. Whipping the reins, he coaxed the enormous shire faster. The Lore Mother bounced on the bench beside him. Lore Rayna and Cudgel ran fanning out beside it, one on each side, scanning the terrain away from the trail. Cudgel sprinted with his iron-tipped weapon in hand, while Lore Rayna ran with her bow. “Speak of the devil, here he comes,” Crystalyn said.

“I don’t understand. What is a devil?”

“Forget it.”

Rumbling thunderously, horse, wagon and runners bore down on them. Hastel wrenched the reins at the last minute. The Shire’s hooves dug in, plowing furrows to the water’s edge as the horse brought the wagon to a standstill. Snorting in protest, Drumn whipped his head around to throw an accusing glare at Hastel before swinging his thick neck to the stream.

The Lore Mother climbed from the wagon and marched toward Crystalyn. “Is anyone hurt?”

Hastel scrutinized Atoi. “What did they do to you?” Without waiting for an answer, he looked at Crystalyn. “What about my horse? Has he come to harm?”

Resting his pole weapon on his shoulder, Cudgel’s broad head swung back and forth, searching the horizon. “How many were there?”

Lore Rayna stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Cudgel, her golden-haired head turned toward the opposite tree line, her bow half raised. “Did any get away?”

Crystalyn held up a hand. “Wait! Everyone calm down. I don’t think any got away, but I can’t be sure. Cudgel, will you and Lore Rayna check the area from here back to the meadow?”

Exchanging a quick glance with each other and the Lore Mother, they nodded. As one, they trotted back along the road a few yards. Separating in opposite directions each melted into the trees.

Hastel sprang from the bottom step. “I’ll see to my horse.”

Jerking his head from the stream, the Ferral shied into the water, clomping upstream a few steps.

Hastel’s hands went to his hips. “What’s gotten into you?” Frowning, he plodded into the stream after the horse.

Ferral clomped over to Crystalyn, eyeing Hastel with suspicion.

Hastel froze, standing in water above his ankles, a dumbfounded look on his face. “What’s this? Have you stolen my best horse?”

Crystalyn bit back a smile. “
Your
horse and I have an understanding. Could you let him be until the others come back?”

“Blast me! I suppose so, but I don’t like it much,” Hastel said. He floundered to the bank and stomped to the wagon. Resting an arm on Drumn, his one eye shot traitorous glares at Ferral.

Crystalyn put him from her thoughts. Instead she regarded the Lore Mother, who’d come to her aid as fast as any of the others. She felt a flush of guilt for arguing with her so much.
Perhaps I should adhere to their ways while on their world.
She’d refused to use the older woman’s reverent title ever since Lore Rayna had commanded her to do so back at the Muddy Wagon Inn, but she needed the Lore Mother’s support right now. “The blood’s not mine…Mother.”

The Lore Mother beamed. “I am much heartened to hear it…my Daughter. Will you tell me what transpired? My concern and curiosity has been piqued since we found the gore piles.”

The matter-of-fact description of her bloody handiwork made Crystalyn’s stomach lurch. “There’s not much to tell, but I’ll do my best.” Beckoning Atoi to join her, Crystalyn described the encounter without mentioning Atoi’s escape. She ended with a quick description of their arrival at the stream.

Hoping to gauge the Lore Mother’s reaction, she’d studied the woman’s lined face and glowing eyes through it all, but she was disappointed. The Lore Mother’s face was a mask of serenity. “Your symbol Use fascinates me, daughter. I am intrigued by your ability to destroy your attackers without the use of your hands. Any other User on our world would’ve been in a crisis. Our ability to Use requires a direct path to the Flow, usually by establishing a conduit from the Flow to our hands, so to speak. Humans and most intelligent beings, use their hands to create, to build, to replenish, so it is fitting. It is our strongest path for the least resistance to the Flow, which is why the conduit focuses through the palm in most cases. Did you know this?”

“I didn’t. But, you mentioned the palm of a hand is the path of least resistance; are there other places on one’s body the Flow can be drawn through?”

The Lore Mother nodded. “There are a few. With difficulty, a strong User could pull a measurable amount of the Flow through their feet, if they’re unshod. A person’s eyes have the potential with great risk; the probability to burn through into one’s brain is substantial. Other…conduit paths…don’t apply to humans.”

“So, what the cutthroats’ employer told them wasn’t entirely true when they pinned my arms. A User could’ve still zapped them without the use of their hands.”

“Almost all Users would have been in dire trouble, my dear. Your symbol Use, though, seems to function outside normal laws of Using. Not only did you decimate all seeking you harm, you managed to do so without killing your horse or your companion. The whole incident is rather remarkable. I’ve seen a small example when you healed Lore Rayna, but that was only for a short moment before it vanished inside her. I don’t suppose you’d care to demonstrate the symbol you used in the meadow?”

Crystalyn recalled the octagon symbol, letting it hover in the air for a short while. Interestingly, her nausea remained the same. Bringing it out without activating it had no effect on her.

The Lore Mother stood rigid. “Your symbol Use is truly remarkable. You seem to have picked up much on your own, which is remarkable in itself. Though I believe there is something else to the story you are not relating. I cannot help you fully unless you fill in every gap. Hold nothing back.”

Atoi fidgeted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Gripping Atoi’s shoulder, Crystalyn met the Lore Mother’s glowing gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. I told you the relevant details. Isn’t that right, Atoi?”

“She did, old one,” Atoi said.

“I see. What matters most is you have both escaped intact. Shall we begin your instruction?”

“Huh, you’re sure this is a good time?” Crystalyn asked.

“What better time than while we’re waiting for your scouting report? Besides, I now believe I should have started during the climb up here. It is taxing, but possible, to Interrupt the Flow while moving as long as the User has a strong ability.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“Simply tell me what you see. Do nothing else.” As she extended her arm palm down, the Lore Mother’s eyes burst into a brighter white and then dimmed.

The ground beneath Crystalyn’s feet melted into transparency. Pulsating with starkness mixed with colorful flashes, the stormy river raged beneath her, treating her eyes to a precipitous rainbow of vivid color, this time. Every hue known to he
r
flashed intermittently throughout the pulsing, silvery flow. Wanting to look everywhere at once, Crystalyn noted the barrier holding her above the storm seemed pliable to the touch, though not from the touch of flesh, from the touch of a compatible mind. She reached out to it with her will. A barrier different than the one holding her above the storm stood in the way, but she pushed through, stretching her awareness out to the Flow like she had when she’d attached herself to her golden healing symbol.

A myriad of blinding colors
flashed before her eyes.

Blinking rapidly, she found herself on the ground staring up at her three companions faces. Hastel, Atoi, and the Lore Mother kneeled over her. The Lore Mother’s concerned expression flickered to annoyance.

“Is she going to live?” Atoi asked calmly. Her interest seemed genuine. “I’ve never seen a User with so many colors in their eyes. I don’t see how her body can take it.”

The old woman pushed herself to her feet. “She will live, but she may need to be sent through a child’s training camp: she does not seem to understand the simplest of instructions. You can help her stand now, Hastel.”

Hastel lifted her to her feet, easily. Released from his strong grip, a kaleidoscope of colors danced before her eyes. Slowly, the colors faded into some sense of normalcy. The familiar outline of her surroundings merged into view. “What did I just do?” Her voice sounded older than the Lore Mother’s to her ears.

“Apparently you tried to destroy yourself and those around you,” Hastel said, dryly. “You’ve been out cold for some time.”

The Lore Mother lifted a thin white eyebrow. “I told you to describe what you could see, not to Interrupt the Flow. I take it you tried?”

“I suppose I did.”

Hastel whistled softly.

The old mother hesitated, the lines on her forehead deepening. “I thought as much. You are fortunate to have such a strong self-preservation instinct. Anyone else would have burst into an inferno of uncontrollable power. I have seen it happen twice in my lifetime. Several of my colleagues died extinguishing the remains of those unfortunate pupils.”

“How did they die, extinguishing?” Atoi asked.

“The students had flashed into a raging pillar of the Flow. While attempting to sever them from the source, it jumped to my colleagues. Destroying the conduit, they burned with them.”

“Why not let the Flow burn down to something manageable?” Hastel asked in the silence that followed. “The two students were dead by that time, anyway.”

“We couldn’t; there was enough potential inside the inferno at the time to blow apart an entire city on both occasions.”

Hastel’s face whitened. “I suppose that would do it.”

The Lore Mother’s shoulders slumped, her voice, quieter. “My friends died because the students failed to exercise the protections we believed were instilled in their minds. I blame myself. I should have stressed a welfare partner. We do this now, even before they are fully accepted. Had the two students known, perhaps they would have brought at least one User strong in the power to their unsanctioned and unsupervised session. I tell you this, now—had they brought a standby User with them, they would have lived.”