Authors: R.V. Johnson
“Can you heal her?” Atoi asked, raising an eyebrow at Crystalyn.
Leven frowned, looking to Kara Laurel for guidance.
Kara Laurel nodded, slowly. “Do what you can, even though it won’t be enough.”
Scowling deeper, Leven stepped beside Atoi.
The tone of Hastel’s voice was incredulous. “You’re not going to trust him, are you?”
Crystalyn kept her eyes on Kara Laurel. “I am, but the symbol will remain in place for a while. Go get the others ready, Hastel. If this works, we’ll leave as soon as he’s finished.”
“Yes Mistress,” Hastel said. Taking his time, he backed to the door, and then vanished outside.
Clasping Crystalyn’s hand, Leven hesitated, glancing at Kara Laurel.
“Have a care, Leven. You’ve seen the magnitude of her power.”
Crystalyn had scant time to wonder what the woman meant. Leven’s hand, while soft and smooth at first, had become rock solid, painfully constricting her delicate hand. She was about to cry out when the pain dissolved into sweet energy. Flowing into her bloodstream like the warmth of new spring sun after a fell winter, energy swept through her extremities, ending with severe abruptness at her neck. The overall effect was shocking. Her body felt young and vigorous, yet her head throbbed with a dull pain beyond her years. Her symbol sickness, as she now thought of it, must be beyond a simple heal.
Leven sat back, fatigue riddling his face. “I cannot heal mental injuries,” he said wearily, confirming her fear. “And the wound of a spiderbee can only be healed by a Naturist druid. You have one in your company capable of it, I believe.”
“Do your wounds still bother you?” Atoi asked.
Gathering her legs under her, she climbed to her feet, wincing as the puncture tore a little. She nodded to Atoi as something wet flowed down her abdomen. The two puncture wounds weren’t going away soon. Clutching Broth’s back for support, she kept a firm tie to her symbol. She wasn’t ready to put it away just yet. The throbbing in her head had lessened, but she still felt like she did after she’d used synth for too long. But that was seasons ago, after the Hartwig kid, when she’d been a total mess. Except, this time there was no nausea.
“You are by no means cured,” Leven said with a scowl. “A week of bed rest is the minimal amount for your long road to recovery.”
“Is it even possible to cure my symbol sickness?” For now, her symbols were her concern. She’d worry about the spiderbees wounds later.
Leven hesitated. “I am uncertain. Only the Circle of Light in Surbo would have the expertise to attempt such a complicated healing. I suppose it’s possible. Even if it isn’t, they should be able to teach you how to Use without so much drain. Kara Laurel could train you as well.”
Hastel’s grizzled head popped inside the tent. “Everyone is prepared, Mistress.”
Crystalyn dissolved her symbol. “Excellent.” She slipped past Kara Laurel. “Come on everybody, let’s get going.”
The bright afternoon sunlight struck her in the eyes like an errant laser some negligent gearhead engineer had left powered on; her hand sprang to her forehead for shade almost of its own accord.
Kara Laurel was the first to step out of the tent behind her, followed by Broth, Atoi and Leven.
The bowl was abuzz with activity. Kara Laurel’s soldiers worked at identifying corpses as they laid them side-by-side, or stood vigilant guarding the perimeter. Several scouts rode in and out of camp on fleet horses. Spotting the wagon next to a picket line of horses, she strode toward it.
Kara Laurel stuck by her. “Will you give me seven days of your time, Crystalyn? I could train you on the basic procedures to
grounding
yourself. Doing so will protect you from drawing too much of your own energy without losing any of your considerable strength. In fact, you might gain power with the right performance teachings.”
Crystalyn thought about it. “Is that what it’s called? You could show me in a week?” Then she reached a decision. “No, I cannot, I have…much to accomplish and so little time. I’ll just have to chance it.”
“It is a bigger risk than you know.”
“Such is the way of my life,” Crystalyn said. She was relieved to note all three of her Valen companions moved around the wagon. They performed the little, last minute tasks that needed doing—with thankfully, all their limbs intact. But being alive didn’t mean the battle hadn’t changed them, in some significant way.
“It is most unfortunate you feel that way,” Kara Laurel said. Glancing at the three Naturists, Kara waited for the Lore Mother to catch her gaze. When the old woman did, she spoke up. “I am dismayed to hear the news filtering out of Vibrant Vale. Surbo will respond, if they are aware. When I file my report on the attack here, I will make a point of mentioning it. I now believe this attack was meant as a distraction to what the enemy is doing in your vale.”
Dropping Drum’s rear hoof, which she’d been inspecting, Lore Rayna spun to face the auburn-haired woman. “What do you mean?” A big part of the living dress covering her chest was brown, as if some of the leaves had perished. A closer look revealed it was dried blood, perhaps hers.
Kara Laurel turned to the big woman, her manner reserved. “Hasn’t one of your runners arrived yet? The Vibrant Vale is under concerted attack by several companies of Dark Users.”
Cudgel balanced a large food sack slung over a shoulder. Both of his arms sustained clean bandages from wrist to shoulder. Crystalyn wondered why he hadn’t healed fully then she recalled Leven and possibly Lore Rayna only had the strength for severe wounds. “No! By Onan, how can this be? We’ve kept a constant vigil on Virun for ages. An advance warning has always given us plentiful time to prepare.”
Leven walked past Atoi and Broth, to stand beside Kara Laurel. “Not this time. They stole down the Serpent Gorge by the cover of darkness, crept into the dark alleys of Silent Blade to wait until their force had grown sufficient to assault the Vale from the south during the dark of night.”
The Lore Mother started, stiffening on the wagon’s seat as if stabbed. Perhaps she had in a way. “No! Surely one of our scouts would have noticed!”
“I’m afraid not,” Kara Laurel said. “Our last report read the southern half of the vale was ablaze.”
The Lore Mother’s face drained of color. “Virgin Mother! I am truly sorry Crystalyn, but my people have great need of me, of us! We have to go.” Without another word, she slapped the reins on the front board, clucking her tongue unnecessarily. Drumn was already moving, the crate banged against the rear gate. Lore Rayna and Cudgel broke into a run beside her.
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine,” Crystalyn called. “See to your people.”
Threading around craters, piled debris, and the grisly remains in the field, the trio soon vanished from sight. Crystalyn turned to Hastel. He stood watching the trail the wagon had taken. “Where are the rest of the horses?”
“I know he’ll be taken care of, but Drumn’s going to be cranky when he figures out we’re not with him. I hope the Lore Mother can manage.” Hastel shrugged. “The horses are tied to a post around the side. For a wonder, we only lost one in the battle.”
Kara Laurel stepped in front of her. “We could learn much from each other. Are you certain you won’t stay with us?”
“I have given you my decision,” Crystalyn said. She followed Hastel behind Kara Laurel’s tent to where Ferral stood saddled and waiting. Mounting, she waited for her two companions to climb in the saddle of their own steeds, letting Kara Laurel wait for her answer. “Perhaps another time, we have much to accomplish before I’ll have the luxury of seeing to my own safety.”
“Then allow me to assign two of the reinforcements to escort you to…what is your destination?” Kara Laurel asked, raising her eyebrows.
Crystalyn ignored the question. Trusting the woman with a location was the same as inviting her to meddle. “Your men are needed here. There’s a lot left to do with treating the wounded and burying the deceased. We’ll be fine; these two are seasoned travelers.”
Kara Laurel kept her face smooth with only a slight difficulty. “As you wish, I do hope we meet again.”
Crystalyn met Kara laurel’s brilliant emerald eyes. “I don’t doubt we will.” Coaxing Ferral around, she urged the stallion into an easy gallop. Averting her eyes from most of the carnage—some likely hers—they topped a small hill at the bowl’s end. Halting Ferral to one side of the trail, she allowed Hastel to take the lead as he passed by on the appaloosa mare. Glancing back, she reflected on how Kara Laurel’s tent while appearing small and forlorn amidst the village of tents, it yet stood defiant, facing a field of gore. Something she was likely to see again on a world ripe with violence. Turning her back on the scene, she urged Ferral into a thick falun tree forest.
Astura was not her world, but its viciousness had blooded her. There was more in store for her. Of that, she was certain.
HOW BROKEN HER MIND
The forest shade cooled the dull ache inside Crystalyn’s head to something negligible. Sitting back in the saddle, she began to enjoy the ride, feeling almost normal again. But she was far from normal, as she’d sent to Broth. How could she be? A mind affliction, with a bad habit of pulling her own energy from deep inside in order to use her magic symbols, wasn’t normal. How long before one or the other destroyed her mind and rent her body beyond repair?
Crystalyn sighed. There wasn’t a lot she could do about it. After all, she wasn’t using her symbols to start the evening campfire or create the morning meal. She used them only when danger threatened or when healing was required to save a life. Though she wouldn’t hesitate to use her symbols if the situation merited it, the best she could do was try not to use until she’d completed training to help prevent the life-draining effect they had on her.
Astura may not allow her to play it safe. Since her arrival on the planet, there’d been few days of no danger, so she might as well enjoy the morning ride of late spring. It would get hotter as the day progressed.
Hastel set a steady pace through the behemoth trees of the Falun Forest, keeping to the wagon trail even though Drumn and the wagon had left with the Naturists. The trees grew sparsely enough in the outskirts for wild meadow flowers to bloom with strong scents and vibrant colors. Some bloomed so bright and fragrant, Crystalyn had to resist the urge to stop and commit the scents to memory. She missed not having the time to experiment with new smells, especially on living things. Those days had fled, chased away by her mom’s disappearance and the responsibilities of her indenture to Ruena Day. Now the sole focus in her life was the journey to find Jade and staying healthy enough to do it. Astura was making it difficult.
About midday, Hastel paused to rest and water the horses at a clear, sandy stream, for which Crystalyn was grateful. She still hadn’t recovered fully from the battle despite Leven’s healing. When she dismounted, the spiderbees’ wounds sent a stabbing reminder shooting through her stomach of her abysmal failures to close it.
I shall follow the stream in search of small prey, Do’brieni.
Crystalyn grimaced.
Ugh, please try to keep any graphic thoughts or images to a minimum.
An image of Broth gazing at her, head tilted to one side, flowed into her mind. Crystalyn laughed.
Never mind, my wonderful Do’brieni. Just don’t go far.
Hastel looked up from where he was digging into the appaloosa mare’s saddlebags. “What’s the laugh for?” Without waiting for a reply, he loaded his short, beefy arms, then passed around sweetmeats, warm cheeses, and apples,
Crystalyn accepted the flask and the food Hastel offered though she chafed at the delay. The further distance away from Carnage Field—her name for the site of battle—the better, she could then work on putting the destruction behind her.
Chomping on a sweetmeat, Atoi’s brilliant green eyes regarded her in silence.
Crystalyn found a rock next to where the little girl sat cross-legged on the grass. “Why did you run to help Kara Laurel and Leven? Did you know them?
Atoi froze in mid-chew, her eyes round. Her arms dropped to her side, the sweetmeat gripped in one hand, forgotten. “I didn’t,” she replied, her voice soft.
Crystalyn was confused. “You did. You attracted a field full of dark cones that attempted to destroy us while trying to get to those two. You must’ve known who they were. It’s the only logical explanation for such a foolhardy act.”
“I don’t think that’s what she meant,” Hastel said. Squatting, he set his food on a cloth as he nibbled on smaller portions. For such a wide man he didn’t eat much.
“Oh?” Crystalyn regarded the little girl. Atoi’s big green eyes stared at her. Or, beyond her, she couldn’t tell which. “Why would the Dark Child go to them?”
Atoi regarded her in silence.
Crystalyn was frustrated. When Jade was Atoi’s age, it had only taken a simple tongue-lashing or two to get answers. It wouldn’t work with Atoi. Perhaps at first, it might have, but they’d been through too much now. Atoi knew her too well. “How do I find out? I don’t want you—or the entity inside you—flinging us into a combat zone again, or worse.”
Broth joined the conversation, though she was the only one to hear.
I am uncertain the ancient, young one can answer your inquiry.
Suddenly, images bombarded Crystalyn’s mind. In them, a great darkness grew swiftly, swallowing a beautiful green countryside. Moving faster still, a child-sized shape fled before the great darkness, running with incredible speed. The distance between the two lengthened. Three enormous shapes detached from the darkness then, forming into colossal flying beasts. Overtaking the child shape, the oblong-winged forms drew together to block the sun. Spurred to greater speeds, the child-like shape ran into the blackness created by the flyers and vanished.
Crystalyn’s mind reeled.
Oh Broth, please, don’t do that without warning.
What did it all mean?
Confusion flowed through the link. Crystalyn felt it as if it were her own.
What have I done, Do’brieni?
Overwhelmed me with those images, there were too many, too fast. Who was the shadowed child?
An image of Broth stalking though trees in search of prey flowed in.
I sent no images.
“But if you didn’t, who did?” Crystalyn asked aloud, her eyes still fixed on Atoi. The girl had resumed eating the sweetmeats. Abruptly, she stood, going to the nearby stream and pulling stalks of grass from the moist ground. Bringing them back, she offered them to the black mare. The mare pulled them from her tiny hand, munching away happily.
The child shape
had
been about Atoi’s size. “How did you do that? What was chasing you?” Crystalyn asked.
Atoi’s large eyes regarded her. “Do what?” she asked without much interest.
“Send me those images. I’ll ask again, what was that chasing you? It was you in them, wasn’t it?”
Atoi’s bone-white face remained smooth.
Crystalyn regarded her young companion until it was obvious she wasn’t going to receive an answer.
“She won’t answer if she doesn’t know it,” Hastel said.
Crystalyn started. Hastel had the appaloosa’s reins firmly in hand, the saddlebag buckled. “You’ve known her a long time, haven’t you?”
Hastel eyed Atoi, his face taking on an odd, tender cast unbefitting his normal gruffness. “Aye, I have indeed.”
“How many years would you say?”
Hastel’s scraggly brown beard tightened around his small mouth. “Since I was a babe, younger than she appears now,” he said his voice barely audible. Moving away, he climbed into the spotted mare’s saddle, his axes thumping against his thighs. Shifting his weight forward, he looked back at her. “We should keep moving. The daylight left to us will barely be enough to see us camped halfway to Surbo.”
Crystalyn scrambled onto Ferral’s tall back. “Wait!” she called, bringing her horse around to follow. Hastel passed by Atoi as the young girl mounted the white mare. When Crystalyn caught up, she asked,” has Atoi ever shown you images…inside your mind?”
Hastel brought the horse to such a sudden halt Crystalyn nearly rode past. “No. I didn’t know she could. Are you sure it was her, and not your Warden?”
“I’m reasonably certain, yes.”
Atoi trotted past them without expression, not glancing their way once. Hastel’s face soured. “No matter, I doubt she’ll ever share a vision with me,” he said quietly. Kicking his heels gently to the mare’s belly, he slapped the reins. The white-spotted horse jumped into motion.
“Hastel, you can’t leave it like that! Why wouldn’t she share with you?” Crystalyn called, loosening her hold on Ferral’s reins. The big horse sprang past Atoi’s mount, following the appaloosa. Hastel ignored her shout, his horse nearly at a full gallop.
Bloody stubborn man
, she thought. How was she ever going to know what was going on if he wouldn’t tell her anything?
Ferral needed no urging to run. At full gallop, Crystalyn hung onto the reins, recalling that Broth had wandered downstream hunting, though she could pinpoint his location without much effort. The Warden was stationary downstream.
We’re on the move again. Hastel’s being petulant.
I am aware you are moving away. I will complete my meal and join you soon. There is a peculiar darkness in the human, Hastel, yet I’ve detected no malice toward you.
You can do that; detect malice, I mean?
Only when directed toward my link mate or myself. It has limitations on the specifics of what I can sense.
You mean someone would have to have murderous intentions.
Yes. You continue to surprise me with your advanced grasp of our ability.
She caught a flurry of emotions from him: pride, confidence, and a slight hint of arrogance.
You expected me to notice that.
Our link is gaining in strength.
Crystalyn didn’t have the same exuberant outlook as the Warden. She was afraid of a close link. Would the time come when she didn’t know which emotion was hers? No. She wouldn’t allow that to happen. Too much depended on her being her. No matter how broken her mind had become.