Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) (39 page)

Jade flashed a brief smile. “I’m glad you climbed the mountain and that you’re still here. I really needed a day like this. You’ve very knowledgeable and fun to be around, thank you so much.”

Dirk stood. Smiling, he executed a small bow. “It has been my pleasure, my lady. However, the day is not over yet. I have a final wonder to show you.”

Jade nodded, her excitement rising as she stood.

Dirk strode outside. Jade rushed to follow. This time, he seemed to be in a hurry as he swung sharply left, his path taking him beyond any fabricated structure. He moved toward the highest cliff where no border wall loomed. Climbing a gentle upward slope, Dirk halted a few steps beyond where it leveled off. Jade followed slowly, her view expanding outward with each step forward. Distant mountains loomed vague behind a forest of monstrous falun trees far below. A great river cut through it, widening into a dark lake and then emptying into the swamplands she’d crossed in the east. Below her, cultivated land spread to the trees.

Awed, Jade stopped beside her guide. “Are those farmlands down there?”

His reply was slow to come. “Yes, yes…I suppose they are.”

“Can we visit them sometime? I have a special fondness for farms. I grew up on one.”

Dirk started, catching her eye. “Really? Good, good, you can see them better from over there. We call it the Peek.”

Jade looked to where he gestured. The cliff’s edge tapered to a sharp point above the farmlands. The Peek was farther away from where they stood than she’d first thought. “Are you certain it’s safe? It looks kind of fragile.”

“Yes, go on. The Peek has been here hundreds of seasons, millions. Go look.”

Jade took a step forward. The longer she looked at the point, the more transparent it seemed.
Transparent?
The whole edge of the mountain peak out to the sharp point seemed transparent now, open sky gaped below. As she looked, the area dimmed again, a new cliff edge faded into view, much too close.

Jade focused on her guide, opening herself to her view of his aura. It was dark, and stayed that way as she slowed the rotation. A hooded man stood behind a faceless warrior in the first image. In the second, a flowery meadow shifted to sand then back to the meadow. The third frightened her. A foreboding, unidentifiable dark shape leaked blood into a growing pool about the bottom from many places. Jade lost her grip on the rotation. The aura spun.

“Go to the Peek. Go now,” Dirk suddenly said.

Jade started. “I’ve seen enough. I want to go back inside now.”

Dirk’s small but strong hands slammed into her shoulders, pushing her backwards. “You have to view the Peek,” he mumbled, loud enough to hear.

Frightened, Jade dug in her heels, pushing back against him. “Why are you doing this? What have I done?”

“I’m sorry, Jade. Your being here will ruin everything,
He
has spoken.”

“Who’s ‘he?’  Please don’t do this! I thought you liked me!”

“I do, Jade. I am truly sorry.” Dirk spoke in a monotone as he pushed her backward with a strength belying his size.

“Then don’t do it! Please, stop pushing!”

Only the scraping of her heels on rock answered her plea. Dirk’s silence was as chilling as the maniacal determination embedded in the darkness of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the rigid, jerky movements of his body. He pushed her forward mechanically. Loose rocks under her feet clattered behind her then silenced with a frightening abruptness. The long drop was close, too close.

Staring at his slack face, Jade dug her heels in deeper. She slowed, so did the dark vortex raging around him, one of the scenes continuing. With one brutish hand gripping Dirk’s head, the warrior forced him to his knees, a sword gripped in his free hand. The hooded man’s biceps bulged under gold bands as he unstopped a vial. Leaning forward, two hourglass eyes peered redly from the shadows of his cowl. The warrior pulled Dirk’s head back then jabbed his sword into the acolyte’s right foot. Dirk opened his mouth in a wide, soundless scream. The hooded man reached out with the vial. The image spun away.

Jade stomped on Dirk’s right foot with her own.

Grimacing, he let go and hopped backward.

Jade scrambled past, running madly, but he knocked her to the ground before she got very far. Rolling her on her back, he grabbed her legs and pulled, dragging her toward the edge. Glancing about, she saw only smooth stone, nothing for a handhold. “Who was the hooded man Dirk? What did he do to you?” she asked in desperation.

Dirk stopped, inches from the edge. He frowned. “How could you know? I have never told anyone.”

Jade sat up. “What was in the vial he made you drink? What did it do to you?”

Dropping her legs, Dirk putt his head in his hands, and sobbed. “I cannot tell you, not anyone, not ever.” Dropping his hands to his side, he straightened. A sad smile on crossed his lips, and a look of utter hopelessness dulled his eyes. Turning slowly, he stepped over the edge and vanished, the sound of the uprising wind slackened briefly.

Only inches away, Jade scrambled from the edge, her heel catching on a rock. She fell back on her hands and bottom. The icy wind from the immense open space below blew her hair back, a chilling reminder of the great summit she sat upon alone. Sadness and shock warring within her, Jade crawled away.

FIVE SETS OF EYES

Crystalyn bolted upright, her heart thumping against her sternum. The worm had returned. A bloodied Lore Rayna savagely killed a white-robed man. Dark red blood gushed from five holes in his stomach where she impaled the man on five digits of her wooden, elongated hand. Her other hand, gored another. The poor men died without the strength to scream, though their mouths gaped wide with agony and their eyes bulged with shock and terror.

Crystalyn’s eyelids sprang open. The vision faded.

Leven’s wary face faded from sight, replaced by Kara Laurel’s clinical one. “How do you feel?”

“Weak, my head throbs. No surprise there.”

Kara Laurel flashed a brief smile. “I believe I know why. I did not see a link from your symbol back to you as it sank into the Valen, Lore Rayna. You did not
ground
yourself. It takes a conscious effort on a User’s part to do it, something requiring training beforehand. It is a process we never discussed in our last…encounter. From what little I know of your…Using—I imagine that is what you are doing—you will need to attach a constant link to your magic, somehow. Some part of the symbol’s pattern, perhaps. Then, as long as you are in contact with the ground or touching something that is, you shall have a proper ground. It should work with you as it does with every other User. All magic requires stabilization for some semblance of control. Some magic should remain untouched. As humans, even the other races, cannot access too much power at once, our bodies cannot take it. The Flow is too powerful. We shall begin training as soon as you are well enough for it. Can you sit up?”

“I’d rather not try, right now. Can’t we just talk for a while?”

Kara Laurel nodded, squatting beside her. “There is no rush. What matters is your health. After the…incident with the worm you fell into a comatose state, your breathing stilled. Leven has supplied you with as much energy as his adept ability was able to, scarcely enough to keep you inhaling oxygen. It was a narrow escape, and he’s much stronger at it than I am. He believes you may will be beyond his ability should it happen in the future.”

A sudden chill swept through her. Whether from the lack of her apparent oxygen, or from Kara Laurel’s matter-of-fact statement, she wasn’t sure. She’d never considered her use of symbols would ever put her in harm’s way, let alone in death’s way. She needed to learn more about this grounding of her symbols when she’d healed. “Tell me more of the worm. How would Lore Rayna get the infection?”

“Somewhere during your travels, Lore Rayna must have attempted a Contacting through a dark veil. Though rare, it has happened when someone attempts a Contacting into the Dark Lands where creatures like dominion wraiths—an old and particularly vile evil—lie in wait. The Dark Users have learned how to attach a neural spell, a mind worm, to the wraith without affecting its evil purpose. Whenever a Contacting brushes against a wraith, the worm slips into the link and follows it back to the source. This particular worm was magically instructed from the outset to command its host to kill Durandas, a feat only accomplished by their most powerful.”

“Did they want Durandas the man, or the First on the Circle of Light?” Crystalyn mused.

“That, I cannot answer for certain, though I suspect they were after Durandas the man. He is quite powerful, and so has numerous enemies. Instructing the worm to differentiate between a person and a political position would be quite involved.”

Crystalyn gave a weak nod. It made sense, somewhat. Someone had covered her to the neck in a soft blanket and shoved a firm pillow under her neck, yet the hard flooring added to the chill through her backside. A small glance around informed her she was still in the Assembly Hall at the base of Durandas’ table. The vast room was devoid of all but a few robed people gathered into small groups. Other than a frowning Leven hovering behind Kara Laurel, the white robes kept their distance. Her friends stood grouped nearby, but she didn’t see her large friend, the worm carrier. “Lore Rayna! Did your healers save her?” Crystalyn said, suddenly worried she’d failed after all.

Kara Laurel smiled, longer this time. “Remarkably, she seems near full recovery in just a few short bells.”

Crystalyn found it hard to believe. “I’ve been out for hours?” It didn’t feel like hours, only
an
hour. Her body still needed some rest.

“Yes, nine bells, to be precise. We did not deem it wise to move you, not with your breathing so frail. Lore Rayna’s asked to see you, so have your three companions. I shall not permit it until you are able to sit on your own.”

Crystalyn sat up, the blanket falling to her lap. The expected nausea, coated with dizziness, washed through her in tidal waves. Eventually the “Waves of Affliction,” as she thought of it, lessened to a level she could live with, as before. She hoped that living life with her mind affliction episodes had raised her tolerances for such attacks. Kara Laurel continued to regard her with a critical eye, her face impassive. “Bring them here. All of them,” Crystalyn said. She was proud that her voice remained steady, though unusually weak.

Raising a fine dark eyebrow, Kara Laurel uttered her own set of commands to the group of white-robes, with Leven in their midst. “Bring food and drink to speed her recovery, see that her companions are summoned.”

Leven inclined his head and strode away. “Why does he follow your orders?”

A hint of surprise flashed through Kara Laurel’s green eyes, but her face remained smooth. “Not only is Leven a healer and my Interrupt Controller, he is indentured to me for training for a position on the Circle. Perhaps someday he will be bestowed a seat, should someone abdicate or be involuntarily abdicated. I do believe he has the capability.”

“So the appointment to the Circle of Light is for life?”

“Yes it is. However, we’ve had a few renunciations in our history, though one or two have been forced.”

“By forced, you mean, asked to leave, or face worse punishment, I assume,” Crystalyn said.

Sadness flickered briefly in Kara Laurel’s green eyes. “Yes, except the worse punishment is execution within the golden pyre.”

The approach of her friends making their way around the stone benches spared Crystalyn the necessity of replying. Execution was a barbarous custom, though some very evil people had sometimes left limited alternatives for those passing judgment on her world. Crystalyn’s eyes went first to Lore Rayna, who looked well, though her big companion kept her golden-haired head lowered as though abashed.

Broth sprang over a bench and sprawled at her side, slipping his head under her palm, contentment flowing through their link. Crystalyn stroked his fur gratefully, feeling better already.

Atoi was close behind. “You’re pale, like me,” she said without preamble.

“Thank you, Atoi,” Crystalyn said with a smile. “Your concern is touching.”

Atoi gazed at her unblinking.

Hastel laughed, taking a seat on a nearby bench. “That’s our Atoi. I don’t know what I’d…uh…we’d do without her bluntness to keep us humble. How do you feel?” He asked quickly, his one good eye glancing away.

“I’ve been asked that already,” Crystalyn said, nodding toward Kara Laurel. “I’ll survive, is the answer. Have you checked on the horses recently?” she asked eager to change the subject. There were only so many ways to politely tell someone you would rather be unconscious than face the pain the day promised to bring. Besides, Kara Laurel was listening to every word; she wouldn’t hesitate to send them away if she thought they were detrimental to her recovery.

Hastel smiled briefly. “Every day, like you asked. They’re energetic, but doing well for the most part. Oh, there’s one other thing you should know. The stable master has refused to accept payment.”

Crystalyn’s eyebrow rose. “Why would he do that?”

“Not sure, he would only say we’d been placed with the Circle.” He dabbed at the weeping scar with a cloth.

“You know, there may be one here who could heal that,” Kara Laurel interjected.

Atoi spoke, her voice taking on a faint echo quality. “Many of your best have tried some high on your Circle. All have failed.”

“Yes,” Hastel agreed, sighing. “I thank them for the effort, but this scar wasn’t made with conventional steel. I don’t think it
can
heal. Someday I may even divulge how I got it, but not now.”

Kara Laurel looked pointedly at Crystalyn. “I wasn’t speaking of any of my people.”

Five sets of eyes regarded Crystalyn, even Broth.
Stop it, Do’brieni! I don’t know why she thinks I can
. Broth lowered his head to her lap, bemusement flowing through to her.

Hastel’s one eye opened wide; he looked as if struck by an errant arrow.

Atoi stared at her, a thoughtful look on her usually impassive face.

Lore Rayna’s head rose to face her, a broad smile on her lips.

Crystalyn regarded her companions, amazed. “What’s wrong with all of you? What makes you think I can heal it when so many others have failed?”

Lore Rayna straightened to her full height, her smile firm. “You’ve healed me, twice, when no else could. I am indebted to you, and I will be older than the Lore Mother before it is repaid. Command me as you will, my lady, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my studies.”

Crystalyn almost expected a salute from the gigantic woman. Vibrant and green, Lore Rayna’s dress shifted with each breath she drew, forming a cover over her lush body only where needed, but it was lively. A sure sign the big woman was in good health since the dress seemed to mimic her physiology. What about those fragile aspects of Lore Rayna’s Valen mind? Had the worm destroyed some tiny, but integral part of her friend?

She’d have to keep a sharp eye out for signs of brain trauma or differences in speech behavior. Hopefully, the Valen had recovered completely from the effects of the worm. Time and patience would be the key. “It doesn’t mean I will be able to help Hastel like I helped you, but I’ll certainly try,” Crystalyn said quietly. She still felt wholly drained, as if she never would have enough energy to do what she promised. “But you all must know by now, I failed in healing
my
spiderbee wound.”

“Your Valen friend has already taken care of that,” Kara Laurel said.

Crystalyn’s hand flew to her stomach. The puncture wounds were gone, not so much as a scar left behind. “How is this possible?”

Kara Laurel stood. “Lore Rayna is a rare Valen who can use the Flow to manipulate her affinity with flora, specifically trees. As for attending to Hastel, it will have to wait until I have had a chance to train you on grounding yourself after your recovery.” Folding her arms to her stomach, she looked around Crystalyn’s little circle of companions. “For now, she needs time to heal the old way. Do I make myself understood?” She glanced at each one of the companions in turn. Every head nodded, even Broth. Kara Laurel’s imperious gaze fell on Lore Rayna last. “Can you carry her back to her quarters for bed rest?”

Lore Rayna scooped her up, lifting her with both arms with ease. Her strength was no surprise to Crystalyn, not after inhabiting the big woman’s body back at Four Bridges. Lore Rayna could no doubt carry her for days.

Watching her footing, the big woman began the climb from the pit while Crystalyn’s three companions followed close behind. Kara Laurel and Leven trailed the group, strolling side-by-side, deep in conversation. Crystalyn strained to overhear the couple, but the distance was too great, so she focused her thoughts on her living transport while gazing ahead. “Do you recall how you arrived in Surbo? When last we parted the three of you had left for your homeland.”

Lore Rayna spoke softly for her ears alone. “I remember the journey but no reasoning or motive for it. I was allowed to see as a prisoner would, caged beside a mute wagon driver, viewing the path forward clearly but helpless to change course. Part of my mind screamed
this is wrong
the entire nightmarish time, no matter where the driver went, what
it
did. I still recall every tiny, horrific detail.” A shudder wracked her large frame, vibrating through Crystalyn from the woman’s chest and arms. Crystalyn gave Lore Rayna’s neck a weak squeeze, the best she could.

Lore Rayna went on, her voice a dull monotone. “On the first night of our return to Vibrant Vale, the mind worm waited until everyone but the watch was asleep. Slaying a guard, I knew well, I slipped away from my beloved city and trudged without rest through the dense forest of the Vale to Surbo. I made many attempts to regain control. The worm batted me aside as if I was an annoying blood fly, it paused thrice during the journey to drink water, and partake of sustenance. I arrived at Surbo on the third day. You know the rest.”

Crystalyn could imagine the big woman’s horror at having to watch her hands kill someone. She shuddered, fervently hoped a similar situation never happened to her. “Have you been in contact with the Lore Mother and Cudgel yet?” she asked in order to change the subject.

“Yes. A Contacting—deemed important—occurred while you slept. Durandas initiated it. Once things are stable at the Vale, they are to meet us here.”

“Durandas can Contact?” Crystalyn asked. Her voice sounded sharper than she intended.

“No, but being on the Circle, he always has a Master Contactor at his disposal. Surely he has informed you of this.”