Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) (28 page)

Cudgel made no move to go to her. Broth slipped from behind him to stand at his side.

Crystalyn was relieved. The Warden appeared to be unharmed.

Slowing her breaths, Lore Rayna’s bark-like arms and branching fingers shrank rapidly, reforming into her normal tanned skin. “You are right Beloved, what am I doing?” she asked softly. Behind her, Atoi crept close.

“No, Atoi, get away from her!” Crystalyn screamed.

Atoi froze, her dagger gleaming in the sunlight. Face impassive, she stepped away from Lore Rayna, giving her a wide berth. Slipping the jeweled dagger through the slit in her dress, she resumed her customary position by Crystalyn’s side, keeping her emerald gaze fixed on Lore Rayna.

Crystalyn brought out another symbol, one of the ones under the heading “Elemental Style” in the tome of symbols, black-lettered book. A glowing, green circle, half the size of the shire horse Drumn, hovered before her. The white, maze-like pattern wound around circles of various sizes. Though it felt airy to her, she was unsure of the symbol’s effect. She’d not used it, nor did she want to use Lore Rayna as the test subject, but she had to have something visible to defuse the situation, or end it right here. “Make a move to attack me or my companions again and I’ll not hold back. I
will
destroy you if I must,” Crystalyn said, donning her emperor mask by affecting an icy tone and stony expression. Compressing her lips together, she hoped it was enough.

It was. Lore Rayna’s skin flushed, her green-leafed dress shifted back and forth around her body, expanding and receding in agitation. “That won’t be necessary…I owe…I owe you all an apology…” Lore Rayna said her words barely audible.

The Lore Mother’s angry tone filled the silence. “I would say an apology is but a mockery of what you
shall
do. You have brought great shame upon your race. My utter disappointment knows no bounds. How could you attack your companions?” The Lore Mother held up an unsteady hand when Lore Rayna opened her mouth. “Do not bother to reply. I have had enough of your childishness. You will do penance for it. One other outburst between here and Surbo and you shall be sent back to the Vale with the mark of high dishonor infused in your forehead, do you understand?”

Cudgel’s sharp intake of breath spoke volumes into the silence following the Lore Mother’s words.

“Yes, Mother. It is no less than I deserve,” Lore Rayna said softly, her glowing eyes downcast.

“Oh, Rayne,” Cudgel said, sadly. Shaking his broad head, he tromped back to the wagon.

“You can put that away now, Crystalyn. You too Hastel; Lore Rayna won’t be troubling anyone this journey,” the Lore Mother said.

Hastel sheathed his two axes. “Troubling? You make it sound like a petty argument. The fire needs to be built for supper anyway,” he said, moving off.

Crystalyn was loath to let the symbol go. A latent power resonated through its intricate, almost transparent design. It pulsed brighter in the center in a straight line, giving her the feeling of a wide horizontal swath for some reason.

“Does it drain you the longer you hold onto it?” the Lore Mother asked, her raspy voice intruding on her concentration.

Disinclined to answer, Crystalyn let the symbol fade. She was getting a headache, anyway, though probably not from the symbol. “I meant what I said, Lore Rayna. I can’t let that happen again.”

Lore Rayna’s brow furrowed, but she remained silent. Tossing her head back, she shifted her golden hair from in front of her breasts as if a reply was beneath her.

Glancing away before her anger could set in again, Crystalyn spotted a small cliff face overlooking the campsite. She motioned to Atoi and Broth. “Come on. I feel the need for a walk.” Setting a fast pace, she made for the trees guarding the way higher. Crossing inside, she felt the Lore Mother’s luminous gaze fixed on her, but she wasn’t about to look back. She might decide to destroy the lot of them.

The climb wasn’t as bad as she expected. A well-beaten path angled up a gradual slope circling away, then winding back, where it topped out above and behind the rocky ledges she’d seen from camp. As she’d expected, her anger dissipated with exertion.

The explanation for such a nice path was clear when they caught tantalizing glimpses of a pond glinting with sapphire brilliance through open patches of the birch trees.

A vivid image flowed into the link, startling her. A tent-like structure constructed from deadfall overlooked the pond.
We are not alone,
Broth sent. The perspective was from the trees beside the path where he’d wandered off to keep watch.

Crystalyn thought about turning back but decided to keep going; she wanted to see the full extent of the pond. The path paused at the mouth of the pond’s gurgling outlet, as did she. Swallowing the better part of the small upper valley, clear blue water supported budding lily pads floating on three sides of the pond. They continued toward a lean-to where a familiar figure lounged on a boulder.

“Are you certain you’re not following me, Darwin Darkwind?” she asked, as soon as she drew close. “I
am
beginning to wonder.”

“A look she couldn’t identify flitted across his tanned face, but then he grinned. “I believe you’re following
me,
since you’ve wandered into my camp. Nevertheless, it is fortuitous. I was about to dine. I’d be honored if you and the Dark Child would join me for my humble repast,” he said motioning toward three rectangular bundles wrapped with broad, green leaves, and placed on a nearby rock. “They should be cooled by now.”

“There are three of us now,” Crystalyn said, glancing at the wall of trees at her right. “Broth, come here, please.”

Slipping from beneath an evergreen, Broth meandered around the small camp’s perimeter, sniffing at rocks and the makeshift tent.

“How remarkable,” Darwin said. “You’ve managed to get Linked since last we met. You are beyond exceptional…” He trailed off. Gazing at Broth, his expression grew wistful.

Crystalyn flushed at the compliment. “I don’t know about that, but I do know he is exceptional. His name is Broth. He’s a Warden.” She flushed again. What was she babbling? Darwin would know Broth was a Warden.

Darwin nodded as if it was the most natural comment on Astura. “Please sit wherever you find the most comfort,” he said, gesturing at the area nearby.

Atoi plopped on the grass, a boulder against her back, silent as usual. Crystalyn selected a rock the right height for her knees. Though cut from a different pattern than hers, Darwin wore Kell leather. The leather rustled softly when he moved to hand her one of the leaf-wrapped bundles. It was warm to the touch, like his long-fingered hand, when her fingers brushed his. She peeled back the leaf with care, exposing a red-spotted fish surrounded by steaming vegetables.

“Please, allow me,” Darwin offered. Bending over her lap, he pinned the tail with a finger and pulled the head toward it, lifting the skeletal frame out of the orange meat. Discarding the bones, he rewrapped the leaf with a deft hand, leaving it on her lap. “Go ahead, try it,” he said with a smile.

Looking up at his dark, shiny eyes, Crystalyn smiled. She took a small nibble from a corner. The leaf was a pleasant surprise. Tasting faintly of apples, the taste of it brought to mind the Farm’s romaine lettuce, though it had a much softer texture. Her next bite was larger. The vegetables combined with fish oil, meat, and some spices, went well with the leaf. Crystalyn gave a nod of approval as she swallowed.

Darwin beamed, placing one in Atoi’s lap and setting the third in front of Broth.

My taste is not used to heating out the flavoring, Do’brieni.

“He likes it raw,” Crystalyn said.

Darwin picked up the leaf, replacing it with a large, raw, spotted fish he’d retrieved from the shade of a nearby boulder. “It’s a good thing I never made much then,” he said, settling on a smaller rock to debone his own meal.

Broth swallowed the fish in a few gulps.

Savoring the taste, Crystalyn chewed, looking around. Darwin had chosen his campsite well. A boulder, the size of a small boat protected the area from a west wind. A lean-to was propped against it. The site was sheltered on the eastern side by the northern cliffs, which left the south side open for a prime view of the pond. She did notice something missing. “Where’s your fire pit?”

Darwin grinned. “That’s the beauty of it. I don’t have one.”

Atoi sat forward. “You have minute control over your Using?”

Darwin smiled cryptically. “Anyone can make a fireball. Generating a precise amount of heat at a certain point, however, that takes skill. One not easily mastered, I daresay.”

Crystalyn stopped chewing, surprised to find there was only a couple bites left of the wrap. “Go on, you have my interest.”

Setting his uneaten leaf wrap beside him, he stood. “I’ve been experimenting for some years on my own. Shall I demonstrate?”

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the leaf-wrapped bundle. At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, with increasing rapidity, the rock
under
the wrap began to glow red. Darwin turned the leaf over as the rock faded to its normal color, poking a finger gingerly at it a few moments later. “It’ll be a while before I can sit down, but the food’s warm,” he said with a smile.

Crystalyn was impressed. “You used the rock as a stove. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Darwin grinned. “It’s harder than it looks. No one else I’ve worked with has learned how to trickle the Flow, as I call it. They usually melt the stone, or start it on fire. I’ll bet you can, though. Here, let me show you,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ll help you direct your energy in small increments.”

Darwin’s hand was callused, which surprised her. She’d thought of him as a noble as well as a high-ranking commander. Most in his position would insist that someone else doing the menial work for them, she was certain. A pleasant tingle raced along her spine from his touch adding a distraction to her sorting through the symbols she’d used in the past. Not one she could recall had any fire or flame associated with it.

Darwin spoke, his tone implying impatience and excitement at the same time. “Go on; draw upon the Flow’s energy. I’ll let you know when you have enough, keep siphoning until I tell you to stop.”

His heartbeat has increased, Do’brieni; I can hear it. Interact with care. I do not believe this one can be trusted.

Darwin seemed so sincere, and his beautiful brown eyes glinted with an inner fire. Perhaps she could try the airy one in miniature form to rub the rock’s molecules together. It should heat up then.

“If you don’t want to try the stone, use the pond. It will soak up any excess. Go ahead, access the Flow. What are you waiting for?”

His heartbeat has accelerated again. What does he wish of you?

Crystalyn pulled her hand free. “I, we…have to get going. The others will be worried. Thank you for sharing your meal with us.”

Surprise shone in his eyes as his jaw worked. “No! Please, you don’t have to go. Stay here, the Dark Child, and your Warden will inform the rest of your party that you will rejoin them with the rising sun.”

Crystalyn gazed long at him. He was so handsome, even when worried, as he seemed now. She was sorely tempted to spend the setting of the sun strolling along the pond, getting to know him better, perhaps training with some of her unknown symbols with his guidance. After, as the sun began to fade, they would retire to the warmth of his blankets. Would it be such a bad thing?

“I would object to such an arrangement, Mistress,” Atoi said, her declaration only slightly undermined by her passionless tone.

Darwin reached for her hand again. Squeezing it gently, he flashed a confident smile. Making up her mind, Crystalyn pulled her hand free a second time. “There will be no need for any objection, little one. Let’s go. I don’t wish to walk down to camp in the dark.” Standing, she moved onto the trail.

Broth leapt in front.
My relief is great, Do’brieni. Leaving you alone would cause anguish.

Eventually we may have to separate for a while, Broth, but not now.

Looking over her shoulder, she paused to motion Atoi ahead of her
.
Though the young girl could likely defend herself in almost every situation, Crystalyn preferred to keep her in the safer position of the middle, where she could keep an eye on the Dark Child within her.

Darwin stood silent and unmoving, his face unreadable.

Rounding the pond’s outlet where the path began its descent, it took all of the restraint she’d developed to keep herself in check, and not run back.

SMOKEY GARLANDS

Crystalyn’s leg muscles protested every step. Miles of stomping across dry, arid soil, then some hopping from rock to rock on a talus field as the wagon rolled through a dry creek bed had ruined her knees.
Only twenty-two with worn-out kneecaps, how do I get myself into things like this?
Her companions never revealed any such difficulty. They’d all trekked longer than she had throughout the day and every day before this one.

Still, she stuck by her decision to give Ferral a rest, though Hastel had insisted the horse was fine to ride. There was no way she’d be able to handle the stallion’s canter when her injury was seeping worse than ever. Her attempts at healing with the golden symbol helped, but only until she stretched the wrong way, stepped the wrong way, or sat down the wrong way. It didn’t matter what she did. It wouldn’t heal or be healed. She’d resorted to the old, low-magic way. Going off in the trees alone, she’d sacrificed her old tee, tearing it into strips. She now had a few spare bandages to sop up the leakage whenever she exerted too much. Trooping through rough terrain certainly qualified as excessive exertion.

Perhaps with Broth’s stamina, she would handle it better. The Warden padded tirelessly, moving side to side, covering twice the distance as anyone.

Cudgel and Lore Rayna kept a steady lope a few paces ahead of the wagon with ease. After Lore Rayna’s attack, the big woman had remained sullen, but seemed to want to make amends by helping everyone with camp and travel tasks.

The Lore Mother maneuvered the laden wagon along the narrow, beaten path; Drumn pulled it with vigor still, his magnificent head high and his gait long. Tied to the wagon’s side rail, the palomino and the black mare kept pace with ease, despite the long ride she and Atoi had hit them with the past few days. Hastel trooped behind the wagon’s right flank, his two axes, one on each side, not hampering him in the least. Atoi also kept up easily, running beside her. Everyone in her little group looked as fresh as new morning, not her.

Crystalyn tried to maintain some semblance of vigilance as she plodded alongside Hastel, but most of her attention went to hauling her wooden legs over shrubbery, around boulders and bushes, through dry and near-dry creeks beds as they made their descent from Glacier Mountain. Another stumble on a ground squirrel burrow and she would scream. Or, at least protest under her breath, vigorously.

Atoi seemed to have the most endless supply of energy. The little girl flitted ahead, and then slowed to allow Crystalyn time to clomp near, her tiny feet barely scratching the terrain.

The wagon trail narrowed, diving into a muddy ravine. The Lore Mother slowed, but didn’t hesitate to drive the shire inside. From the rear, Crystalyn had a disconcerting image of the horse, rider and wagon vanishing into a sinkhole, swallowed without a sound. A few aching footsteps later, she was relieved to know her fears were groundless. The Lore Mother popped out of the far end of the ravine, sitting vigilant on the seat, steering the shire along the road ahead. Crystalyn trudged into the ravine after. They passed by crumbling ledges jutting outward, closing in on the wagon, then slowly march away. Atoi stayed nearby for a while in companionable silence, and then suddenly bolted ahead to the ledge wall. Crystalyn watched her go, too tired to tell her to watch her step. Crystalyn moved ahead only because her companions did. Not long ago, she would have jumped at the chance for a hike in real mountains and breathe clean air while exercising her cardiovascular system and burn calories. Not that she needed it; weight had never been an issue for her or Jade. One of the many good things handed down from their mom.

A sharp twinge reminded her again of her failure to heal the spiderbee punctures. She still hadn’t told her companions. The last thing she wanted was for the search to stall longer as she healed. Broth knew, but he’d simply voiced his concern and moved on, well,
expressed
his concern, anyway.

Using cracks as handholds and tiny toeholds for support, Atoi sprang onto a smaller ledge as the trail widened. Peering down, the little girl kept pace as Crystalyn marched by, trying not to hold her palm on her stomach. So far, the seepage seemed to have stabilized.

“How does one survive on your world?” Atoi asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You stumble after a short hike on easy terrain. Do your people all rely on horses to pack them around?”

Crystalyn regarded the girl who’d been ten seasons for more than four hundred seasons, in silence. How long could one host an alien entity and retain some semblance of oneself? Was she dealing with the host now, or the Dark Child? One instant she was an amiable companion, the next she seemed to want to instigate an argument. Hopefully, her day-to-day experience with the girl from now on would provide the clues she needed to make an accurate judgment. For now, she’d send the girl off on her own; she didn’t feel too companionable now. All she wanted was rest.

Slipping around a jagged outcropping of brown stone, Atoi dropped onto a narrower ledge without adjusting a single stride.

“While you’re listening to the Naturists conversations,” Crystalyn said, ignoring the girl’s opening comment. “Find out where those bloody obelisks are attuned to, like I asked. I would’ve thought you’d gathered something by now. Do you need to hone your skills?”

A flicker of annoyance crinkled Atoi’s youthful face. She vaulted from the ledge, landing softly in the rocky grass. Sprinting away, she passed Lore Rayna, then Broth, disappearing around a bend in the steep canyon.

Crystalyn sniffed. It served the entity, or Atoi, right for making fun of her. Granted, she was out of shape, but that didn’t mean she had to have a reminder of it. It was likely not one of her companions would know what it was to fight an irrepressible illness while being the sole earner of credits for their family. What debts could they possibly have? Cudgel seemed to be the financial man for Lore Rayna and the Lore Mother; he’d paid Hastel with a gold coin for their stay at the Muddy Wagon Inn. Atoi had yet to pay for anything, but Hastel seemed to believe she was loaded.

Broth would have no use for coin or credits living away from humans. He would simply take what he needed from Astura by hunting wild creatures and drinking the plentiful water. She hated to think of it, but he did have to eat. He wasn’t a grazer, therefore he was a carnivore, and likely, a proficient one; his sleek body and boundless energy indicated a healthy diet.

Thinking of her companion, her eye sought him, Broth loped around a sharp bend in the trail, vanishing from sight, as the ravine leveled out to open mountainside again. A pebble caught at Crystalyn’s boot. She stumbled. Could she make it until they rested?
Think positive and make it through the day. Think positive…make it through.
Another litany from lockdown blossomed from her memory. What worked before, should work again. Technically, she could call for a halt at any time since she was running the show, but was not worth an admonishment from the Lore Mother. Crystalyn could hear her now, grouching about how far they still had to travel. Perhaps there would be a nice stream flowing through a vibrant meadow with a watering hole around the bend. She could then justify it on the pretense of refilling water and…

Take cover Do’brieni, ambush!

Broth’s urgency flowed through the link, bringing a powerful image of dark funnels of swirling energy arcing through the sky above a bowl-shaped green meadow. Crystalyn fought for equilibrium as the image widened, encompassing a larger field of view, the rim of the bowl springing into focus. Black armored soldiers stood in an ominous shoulder-to-shoulder line across the farthest side. Atoi stepped from rock to rock, as she crossed a stream, oblivious to the dark power arcing across the sky. Opening her mouth, Crystalyn drew in a full breath to shout a warning, only to find herself back with the rest of her companions. “Everyone, prepare for battle! Someone is attacking Atoi at the next bend!” Hastel glanced sharply her direction, and then sped for the horses. Cudgel and Lore Rayna fell back to the wagon, protecting it on both sides. The Lore Mother allowed Hastel the time it took to untie Ferral, and then whipped the reins. Drumn leaped ahead.

Racing behind the wagon, Crystalyn’s rising anxiety bled away, leaving behind a rigid calmness, two sentences resounded in her mind.

Atoi’s just a kid. She needs protection.

Aching knees and seeping wound shunted aside, she ran.

Rounding the bend, Crystalyn drew up short. She’d read the link image wrong. Or Broth had sent it with his perception. The trail descended into an ancient crater overgrown with grass and littered with tumbleweeds. A stream cut through the center. Two small copses of aspen trees blossomed on two sides. From her higher vantage point, Crystalyn could see Broth had been right about the ambush, but wrong about the target. Atoi wasn’t the target, though she was running toward them.

A man and a woman stood alone in the meadow, hands locked together. The woman’s free palm stretched to the sky, the man’s at the ground. A glowing, transparent bubble encompassed her and her companion. A barrage of black cones flew toward the bubble, launched from three directions by black-robed figures hiding in the midst of black armored soldiers. Like miniature, swirling black holes, the cones swallowed light as they went, trailing a wake of darkness through the sky. Drilling in upon impact, the cones left behind raging maelstroms as big as a wagon wheel. The black maelstroms deflected off the couple’s shield bubble, boring small craters around it, before losing energy and disseminating into wisps of smoke. In the forefront of the dark army, black-armored men and women fought silver armored figures.

Atoi popped out of the wide gully, still on the wagon trail. Sprinting in a zigzag pattern, the young girl’s tiny, swift-moving legs closed the distance between her and the two holding hands under the shrinking dome.
What was she doing?
Crystalyn wondered.

A black cone streaked toward Atoi from the copse of cedar trees at the bowl’s rim on Crystalyn’s left side, exposing another group of ambushers. Thinking furiously, Crystalyn entwined three black aggression symbols into one shadowy offensive symbol. Hexagram in shape, the symbol’s intertwining lines and black rose shapes, writhed like constrictor vines caught in a burning garden of roses. Beautiful and powerful, the symbol streaked toward the cedar trees, trailing smoky garlands of its pattern, her most intricate yet.

But she was already too late: the cone would reach Atoi first.

Oblivious to the danger from above, Atoi dashed behind a large granite boulder next to the road. The swirling cone slammed into the rock. A thunderous crack rent the air. Dust and rock chips mushroomed into the air.

Crystalyn’s lucidity changed to the surreal. The dust cloud slowed, rolling upward and outward languidly. Broth raced slowly into view, loping frame by frame from a distant tree line, moving toward the cloud. The Lore Mother descended the wagon into the small ravine of the creek bed, both front wheels leaving the ground. Cudgel and Lore Rayna sprinted away from the gully, their ground-eating strides looking like giant leaps. Reins flapping ever so slowly, Hastel sailed past the Lore Mother on Ferral, heedless of the two cones arcing toward him from atop the bowl.

Wrenched back to normalcy, Crystalyn’s mind sped up, allowing her to assess the situation with stark, split-second clarity. The barrage on the dome continued. With each hit, it inched closer to the couple, collapsing slowly inward. Strewn beyond them, armored, robed, and some odd-skinned bodies lay crumpled beside splintered wagons, some still burning. A sickly sweet odor wafted through the air.

Crystalyn’s eyes slid from the carnage at the bottom of the bowl to the attacking forces positioned on three sides at the top. Whoever had planned the ambush had set the trap well—perhaps too well for her little group to handle careening headlong into it as they had. There was no choice but to battle on, as strung out as everyone was now.

The main enemy force stood guarding a company of black and red-robed Users where the wagon trail climbed from the bowl. Beyond them, Crystalyn made out a contingent of bows. On the left and right, she spotted additional robed enemies using a copse of cedar trees for cover on each side, though some had lost their cover. Her symbol had ripped through most of the left side, leaving the fifteen or so Dark Users still standing, but exposed.

Surprisingly, Atoi exploded from the dust cloud at full speed.

Three oblong projectiles shot from the trees on the right, almost as soon as the little girl did, leaving angry red glows trailing in their wake. Each projectile turned as one, arcing toward Atoi as she ran.

Working as fast as she could, Crystalyn sent the first symbol she thought about on an intercept course toward the bolts of energy. Expanding into concentric circles as it went; her knockback symbol struck the first two missiles, exploding them on contact. The third wavered slightly, but continued on, striking Atoi in the chest.

No!
She’d been so close. Preparing a symbol—bigger this time—she sent her smoky garland into the trees on the right. For one beat of her fearful heart, the enormous hexagon symbol hung in stasis above the trees, imprinting its intricate rose design in fiery red in the sky. Then it imploded inward. The area inside the pattern rippled the fabric of the sky, turning it as black as an impending storm. Building to an immense pressure, it drew from the air trapped within the hexagon; she could hear and feel it, even over the screams of the battle. Once charged, the symbol released a booming concussive ring downward, flattening anything caught inside its diameter. In its wake, tattered robes fluttered above shattered rocks and splintered wood floating above a dense cloud of dust.