Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) (7 page)

FLICKER

Apprehensive, Jade cracked the tall door open. Made from heavy black iron, she was surprised how smoothly it moved. Beyond the doorway, a vast gray stone hallway lit with a purplish light, sprawled for a great distance. Ornate, amethyst pillars, lined the center carved with men and women in armor or robes, engaged in some activity, mostly battle from the look of it. Two rows of the magnificent pillars led toward a wide half-circle set of beautiful cobalt granite stairs. A set of golden doors, as high as the hallway, reflected sunlight from a square hole bored through the ceiling.

Jade froze. Four guards stood at attention, two on each side of the golden doors. Two gripped tridents twice their height, the other pair stood rigid with bulky crossbows peeking over their shoulders and double-headed axes dangling from their hips. Dark helms, breastplates, and gauntlets matched their chain mail armor.

Sucking in her lower lip, she ducked back inside, letting the door close with barely an audible click. Leaning against it, she nibbled on her lip, panic rising. Had they seen her? Perhaps she should check and see if they were coming. Her only chance at escape was to run. Mid-way to reaching the door handle, she froze again, and then dropped her arm to her side. Peeking out again would add to the risk of them spotting her. The weapons they carried had one purpose: to slay with efficiency. That frightened her, worse than the ones designed to incapacitate and weaken as many opponents as possible in close quarters. At least with those—like some of the ones in the large room she’d found herself in an hour ago—she might have a slim chance of avoiding them by running.

Sitting, she put her back to the door, looking once again, at the room. Racks of plate armor and vicious weapons stood malevolent and resolute. The weapons hung in orderly, open-faced rows designed for quick access, the armaments—hung on iron pole trees—kept the pieces in one set. Each implement of death or dismemberment had minor nicks or gouges, but no cracks or chipped areas. All were polished and looked sharp.

At first she believed she’d stumbled into another artifact storage place in the warehouse somehow, perhaps through some hidden passageway, but she’d only found the one exit. The one her back rested upon. Carved from some dark, amethyst stone—real stone, and not some variation of plasicrete—the whole room got dim lighting from shafts, similar to the ones bored through the hallways ceiling. There was no other exit. The immense hallway with massive golden doors, the armored guards who carried pointy weapons, the tools of violence in this room, they all made her situation too real. She wasn’t anywhere near Crystalyn’s work. But how?

Pain bloomed in her mouth. Jade spit her lip out, grimacing. If she kept chewing on it there’d be nothing left but ground meat, though it was hard not to; she needed it for composure in times of stress. How she got here made little difference now, her main concern was discovering the way home. Thinking about it brought tears to her eyes, which she quelled. Her earlier sobs had accomplished nothing. It was time to adjust the situation, as dad would say, preferably in one’s favor.

Standing, Jade adjusted her grip on the white candle, as she strode from aisle to aisle, making sure she’d missed nothing, perhaps a hidden trap door. She looked for anything wider or bulkier than it should be. Gazing at weapon after weapon, a chill blazed an icy trail down her spine. How could she expect to survive in a place such as this? Panic arose again, but she stuffed it down, resisting the urge to bite her lip. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart standing around grating her lip to shreds. Completing a full, zigzagging circuit, Jade found herself facing the door, her disappointment sharp. Nothing new had presented itself. Besides the war accoutrements, there was only the worn black leather bag hanging from an iron hook mounted on the doorframe.

Drawing a deep breath, she thumbed the latch a second time. Almost as an afterthought, she lifted the bag  from the hook as she slipped through the door, letting it close—and lock—behind her. There was no going back. She hadn’t found a key. Leaving it propped open was bound to draw unwanted attention.

Dropping the white candle in the bag, a soft
clink
bespoke it had other contents, yet its weight hadn’t given her any indication. Exposed as she was, she resisted the urge to look inside. Slipping the bag over her head, she faced the hallway away from the golden doors. Walking with what she hoped was a normal pace; she strode along the rough-hewn stone floor on one side, avoiding the opulent rug lining the center between the rows of pillars. The last thing she wanted was to meet someone passing by there, as she tried to figure out which way to go.

She stole a glance behind her. The great hall appeared empty, save for the statuesque guards who stood in the same positions as near as she could tell. It appeared they hadn’t spotted her but she couldn’t be certain.

Once out of sight, she picked up the pace, trying to project the confidence of someone going about important−but not urgent−business. The last thing she wanted was for someone to stop her and ask if there was an emergency.

Before long, she arrived at an intersection. Trailing her hand along the wall, she turned right, barely slowing down. Ahead, the corridor narrowed. Black and red-robed people with hoods drawn, surrounded a large oblong well.

She paused, feeling stupid. Her jeans and hooded jacket marked her as an outsider and she’d wandered too close. Had she forgotten all of dad’s training?

The left side branched beyond the main hallway to reveal a similar picture. A large crowd gathered there too, yet there was a notable difference. The crowd surrounded a set of obelisks, like the pair in Ruena Day’s office, except much higher and wider apart. Excitement quickened her breathing. The obelisks were the last thing she recalled touching. The way home could be nearer than she’d thought. It meant crossing the huge hall and sauntering right through the people. As she watched, several large groups began the trek across the hall. Over half wore armor. The armor worried her. Anyone wearing it possessed a military heart. If nothing else, they would question her. What could she say? She arrived by accident, but would they believe her? It was doubtful since the whole place looked to be a fortress of some sort, but there was no choice. The tan-colored obelisks were her best chance to return home.

Changing course, she resumed the same pace, this time with a solid destination in sight. With luck, the mammoth obelisks would zap her to the warehouse before Crystalyn grew too frantic. The last thing she wanted was another angry tirade directed at her, though her sister’s yell was preferable to this place of armor, robes, and stone. She’d never been far from Crystalyn or dad her whole life. Or mom, for that matter, when she’d been around.

The obelisks stretched higher the closer she went. Jade began to wonder if they functioned the same way as the sapphire obelisks. What would she do if they didn’t? She couldn’t wander around forever. At some point, she’d have to eat and drink. Perhaps, if she found someone wearing robes, away from the armored ones, she’d ask for some water along with help getting home. It’d require putting aside her shyness to ask, but she would.

Striding as fast as she dared, she rounded a massive pillar—the largest by far—shouldering the gray rock ceiling three stories above. Running lengthwise along the enormous hall, the granite pillars continued as far as she looked. Unlike the carved ones near the shining doors, all had been polished smooth, including the monstrosity. Reaching the far side, she halted.

A man wearing a dark red robe rested a shoulder against the pillar’s smooth surface. Silver hair poked out in straggly strands from under a hood pulled back to a lined forehead. His steel, blue-gray eyes glinted, regarding her openly.

“Oh! I didn’t see you,” Jade said.

The man glared. “I did not intend for you to see me until now. You must be a new Creation. I have never seen your kind in the Dark Citadel before.” Pushing away from the pillar, he faced her. “What kind of abilities did the Great One bestow upon you? What is your use? You look human, yet your attire speaks a different tale. Are you a Dark User acolyte then? Speak now, before I lose interest and end this.”

He spoke soft enough Jade wasn’t certain she’d heard correctly. “What’s a Great One? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Flicking his red robe to one side, he exposed a sword hilt. Resting a hand on the pommel, he stepped closer. “Do not think to play with me, little creature. I have tracked you from Lord Charn’s personal armory,” he said, his voice as hard as his eyes. “I shall ask one final time. What is your dark task?”

Fear swarmed inside Jade. What could she say? She didn’t have the faintest idea what he wanted.

Unless…yes. He had an image like the one spinning around Crystalyn. Not black as Crystalyn’s or all gray like dad’s. His was gray with a wide black streak in the center. Blurred miniature scenes flickered inside. Focusing her will, Jade halted the rotation and expanded the scene it happened to end upon, snapping it into sharp clarity.

Gazing intently over his shoulder, sword in hand, the red-robed man before her—garbed in silky brown leather this time—ran after a young woman wearing a leafy green dress. The girl carried a blue crystal candle in one hand, a wood staff in the other, an emerald orb atop it. As Jade watched, an unseen bowman fired an arrow, scarcely missing the man’s head, it struck the girl under the left shoulder blade. Dark red blood ballooned across the girls back as she fell. The man’s face twisted with a soundless scream.

Pain exploded behind her eyes. Head throbbing, Jade released the image, allowing the rotation to continue on its slow, never-ending loop. Desperately wanting to rest her head in her hands, she clenched her jaw instead, staring at the red-robed man, “I’ll answer your questions, providing I know the answers. But first, you have to answer mine.”

The man frowned. As he did so, his eyes bled from a darker blue to a lighter gray, which she found odd. Wrapping his hand around the sword hilt, he straightened. “I warned you. Now you think to play games with me, Dark Creation. I have expended my allotted patience.”

Fear crept up her spine. Once he drew his sword, it’d be too late. She’d have to be gentle if she wanted to survive.
No.
It wouldn’t work with him. His pain was too sharp, too deep. Hitting him hard was the only way. “The girl arrowed in the back, who was she? What were you running from?”

The man’s gray eyes darkened to blue, rounding with horror. After a time, he slumped, his sword hand falling limply to his side. Jade began to wonder if her questions caused his heart to fail. Suddenly he straightened; looking behind her.

Jade followed his gaze. A silken-robed crowd moved toward them at a marching pace, ragged-clad figures among them. Oddly, no one wearing armor was visible.

“Come. We have to leave,” the silver-haired man said, turning around. He broke into a run, racing upon the ornate carpet between the pillar supports.

Jade dashed after him. Tucking the black bag under an arm, she ran as fast as she could, catching up. “Wait! Who are you?”

Slowing, he glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes wild. “Now’s not the time to speak. I delayed too long. Keep up or die horribly!” Bursting into a headlong run, he sped away.

Clamping her mouth closed, Jade pumped her legs, concentrating on the red robe in front of her.
Don’t look back.

Eerily silent except for the dull slap of their footfalls and her labored breathing, the red-robed man kept near the center supports running at a grueling, ground-eating pace. His hood blew back to reveal the full head of silver hair she’d seen in the image. Slowly, a pillar at a time, she was losing ground, straining for breath. Soon, he’d leave her behind.

Suddenly, he veered from the path, sprinting into a side passage. Jade followed, driving her legs as hard as she could. The passageway ended at an iron door where the man stood fumbling about in the pockets of his robes. Jade slid to a stop, narrowly avoiding a collision.

“Where’s the blasted key?” he asked digging in his pockets frantically. His flailing arms froze, then reached into an inside pocket and pulled out an archaic key. “Thank Onan,” he muttered, fitting it into the lock.

Something dark slipped into the passageway. Malice, cold and reeking of evil washed over her…bringing fear…
raw absolute fear
…she was going to die fearful. Flicker.

A profound serenity enveloped her.
Why had she ever thought it evil?
Relaxation soothed every fiber of her. Flicker.

Freezing terror gripped her at her core. Something powerful moved ever closer. A prevailing, unquenchable, thirst washed through the terror.
It must drink…must
…Flicker.

The sweet joy of profound happiness caressed her soul. How could she not want something so pure, so innocent, and so loving? Flicker.

Raw, gnashing hunger filled her mind. Raving, churning, all consuming…
must feed
... Flicker.

Pleasure spread through her in waves. It was delightful, but
so strong and so…much.
Flicker.

Glee poured into her…a glee for the anticipated gain of a pure soul…
glee
…Hunger sated at last…
glee
…Flicker. Flicker.

INTENTION

A massive iron door swung closed in front of Jade. She blinked.

Sliced off in mid-glee, the terror beyond the door dissipated, leaving behind a faint wail of unbearable loss.

Unadorned, but expertly crafted, the black iron door fit the gray stone with no gaps.

Jade shuddered as the deathly cold thoughts dispelled from memory.

Two hands released a firm grip on her shoulders, surprising her. She’d not been aware they were there.

A man slipped past her, hanging his red robe on an iron coat rack. Underneath, he wore the brown leather outfit he’d worn in the image back in the hallway.

Bile rose in her throat when she thought how close she’d come to succumbing to the malevolence in the passageway. If not for the man who’d been about to kill her, she’d not be among the living. The same man who now stood relaxed without a hint of the urgency he’d displayed getting here. Of course, if she’d fallen behind, he would have left her to those…terrors. She shivered.

Her benefactor gestured toward a gray stone bench placed alongside a small rectangular stone-hewn table. “Please take a seat. I shall fetch something to drink to slake the thirst after our... little jaunt. Moving through a door less entry, he vanished around a corner.

Only now realizing her heart beat wildly, Jade sat, resting both elbows on the polished tabletop. The light in the room was brighter than the hallway, but not by much. Placed on gray translucent shelves mounted high, one to each wall, long gray crystal shards shed a dim light. Next to one shelf, a dark stain marred the otherwise polished wall.

Soon after her heartbeat slowed to normal, the older man returned carrying two silver mugs and a stitched leather flask. Setting the mugs on the table, he filled both. Shifting his long sword to the side, he sat down, blue eyes wary. “Well? Select which one you want. I am thirsty after such a run.”

“Oh! I’m supposed to go first?” Grabbing the closest mug, Jade spilled a few drops on her hand as she brought it to her lips. Chilled, pleasantly sweet water coated her dry throat. Her next swallow drained the mug’s contents.

Frowning, the silver-haired man replenished her drink. “So you are not a Dark Creation, or the white ash leaves I ground into the water would have burned holes through you. Yet you do not know basic customs when sharing first sustenance. You are a bundle of mystery, young one.”

Jade pushed the mug from her, spilling some of the contents. “Why are you trying to harm me? I’ve done nothing to you. I don’t even know who you are.”

He hesitated, staring down at her. “I suppose it is safe to tell you my name, now that I know which one to reveal. I am Camoe Shadoe away from this place. You may call me Cam, if you would like. I would know yours.”

“Jade Creek, but everyone calls me Jade.”

Camoe’s blue eyes lightened to gray. “Very well, Jade. You’re going to tell me in detail how you know about Maialene. Think carefully before lying. I will know, and lies raise my ire higher than you want to climb.”

Stated matter-of-factly with such confidence, his last comment sent a chill through her. She’d only ever lied to placate Dad or Crystalyn’s concerns with boys though they hadn’t needed to worry. Boys were easy to control. Camoe on the other hand, had the air of someone violent about him. “You mean the girl? I’m able to view images rotating around people. Well, with three people so far, you, my big sister, and my dad. With yours, I was able to halt an image and view it for a short while.”

Camoe sat up straighter, the pupils in his blue eyes dark. “Are you saying you can read an aura? Then you
are
a User, as I suspected. However, I have never heard of a User with the ability to halt an aura. Certain specialized Users can see the aura rotating around us, what color it is, and
if
they are quite strong, they may get a glimpse of a vague shape rotating behind the fog, but that is all.” He paused, his light blue eyes intent. “I do not detect a lie. Perhaps your skill is unique to you. I shall study it given time. Right now, I need to know something. Why is it that I cannot see your colors?”

Jade wondered why his eyes changed so much perhaps that is what he asked. “I don’t understand. Am I supposed to have colors?”

Camoe scowled his eyes staying light blue. “Every User has colors and every User can see each other’s color flecks that pulse in their eyes after they train and the Flow addiction saturates them. It gives some idea of a User’s ability level for accessing the Flow and their current addiction. The more addicted the less reasonable they are, which makes them dangerous. Have you not been trained?”

Camoe was becoming impatient. Perhaps she shouldn’t have told him so much about her images. “I suppose I haven’t.”

He nodded vigorously. “Yes, that would make sense. However, you are old to be a User without guidance. Most start with the first signs of potential. I may have to take it upon myself—”

His aura rotated, drawing her in and making her head throb. She looked away. “Would you please tell me what those…things are out there?” Jade asked wondering what kind of place spawned such evil things. Her eyes fell upon the wall again. Nothing had changed with the crack, yet there was something about it. Perhaps it was the simple fact that everything about the room, even the ceiling and floor, was smooth. The crack stood out as the only blemish. Though, wasn’t it only a stain when she’d looked before?

Clearing his throat before choosing to answer, Camoe regarded her as she regarded him. “They are wraiths the Great Lord releases after dusk. Some in the White Lands call them flickers, because they create an illusion of well-being in short increments to keep their intended victim from escaping. Their telepathic onslaught paralyzes their prey. A single flicker followed us into the passage. We were fortunate it went for you. I was able to ignore its weaker assault on my mind, so I am aware what you went through firsthand now. With such creatures roaming the halls, the Great Lord has no need for added watch in his halls as their number increased, though some believe the flickers were here long before the Dark Users and their Great Lord. The wraiths patrol without rest only at night, searching for the hapless souls caught beyond the protection of polished stone or iron. Once a season, Dark Users feed prisoners to them, swelling their ranks and keeping the flickers voracious hunger sated for a while. Tonight was such an occurrence.”

She wondered what he meant about polished stone or iron, but something else he’d said made her pause. “Why would their numbers increase?”

“You don’t die—but I suspect you would wish you had—should they catch you wandering, or by design in their area of telepathic onslaught. The Dark Users have developed what they call a Soul Lure to move them around for they cannot resist it. Once the flickers feed on your soul, you become like them, searching endlessly for a living, glowing soul, never satisfied.”

Bitter cold seeped into her spine. These people feed people to wraiths. Why would anyone want to live here? The whole place sounded like a swarm of evil in one form or another. “Why are you here? Why take a chance with those horrid things?”

“If you have not figured it out yet, I am not going to tell you. At any rate, as long as we stay in here we are safe. The flickers’ corporeal substance cannot pass through iron or polished stone. There are no miniscule flaws as in regular stone or wood.” Cocking his head to one side, his expression hardened, the lightening of his blue eyes blending toward gray added an emphasis to it she didn’t like. “There is something I am at a loss to understand. You entered the Great Hall from Lord Charn’s personal armory. How did you get inside? I have been trying for months, but there is no way to pick the lock without the dark throne room’s sentinels noticing, they guard it in shifts. Even during a relief change, it is done two at a time, leaving two to watch the Great Hall and guard the golden doors.”

“They watch the armory? Do you think they saw me?”

“Yes, they would not have missed your exit. Their function is to keep the uninvited from gaining access without a key, not question those who obviously do, you still have not answered how you came about your admittance.”

“I, uh, arrived there by accident.”

Camoe frowned, his eyes turning gray. “Accidental? How does one arrive inside a room by accident?”

Jade tried to keep the irritation from her voice. Why couldn’t he accept what she told him? “I’m not sure. I’m beginning to suspect a smaller version of the big obelisks in the hall brought me here.”

Camoe’s frown deepened though his eyes began to darken. “Portable devices like the ascension gateways in the Great Hall?”

Jade found the name for the gateway odd. She hadn’t climbed anywhere. “I guess so. They were a lot smaller than those, though.”

“They must be portables. I’ve heard reports of powerful Users being able to activate portable gateways, but they are extremely rare. I have never seen one. The stationary ascension gateways here and elsewhere, have only limited knowledge known about them, let alone the rarer portable. Most believe the Ancients put them where they are now. I do not believe the Great Lord himself or the combined efforts of the Circle of Light can move them. It is quite strange, I have no knowledge of the ability to create a portable gateway ever existed here, or in the White Lands. You must be someone important to have used them,” he said, slumping back, his eyes blue again. Then he froze. “Do you still have them?”

“I’m not important; my sister activated the…gateway, but not on purpose.”

“So you are not a User?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What about your sister? She activated the gateway, certainly she is one.”

“I don’t see how. Things like this don’t happen on our world.”

Leaning forward, Camoe’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the flask. The blue in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a gray so light they were almost white. “Another world, you say? There is only one world: this one. Too bad, I was beginning to like you. I had thought we were going to be honest with each other. If I could be certain the flickers were not slinking outside the door, I would put you out in the passage.”

“No! Please, I know I’m not on my world any longer. It’s too different here, where am I? Tell me.”

Camoe sat back, his face sullen, as his eyes slowly changed. “Are you toying with me, girl? If so, I cannot detect how you do it. Perhaps you believe a lie instilled in you all your life, which might do it. However, I am one of the few who knows other worlds are a myth mentioned in an obscure passage in the Surbon Codex. Most souls on Astura would not even consider it.”

The codex sounded interesting, but she let it pass. “Please, tell me where I am. I need to know.”

“I have already mentioned it, had you been listening. You are on Astura. I told you, I could tell when someone is lying. I no longer believe you are, but that means someone spent a lifetime, your lifetime, convincing you there is at least one other world somewhere. Or what I have always believed is the lie.” Camoe fell silent. A frown added a line to his weathered forehead, but his blue eyes were thoughtful.

Jade was thoughtful herself after hearing his words. She was stuck on an alien world seething with danger, known as Astura. How could she survive long enough to get home? Convincing Camoe to help was vital or she wouldn’t make it far. But could she trust him?

She gazed at the crack below the polished ceiling. It seemed bigger now. No, denser, like a dark blemish that bled darkness; it seemed poised to consume the light of the entire room. She stared, mesmerized by the feeling. A black tendril flicked out into the room, then vanished inside.

Jade jumped to her feet pointing. “Something came out of that!”

Camoe spun on the bench. “Blast it! He roared. Springing to his feet, he scooped up the flask. “Come! The bloody flickers have bored a way in; we have to head deeper within this infernal rock.”

“They can bore?”

“Only if there was a flaw to begin with, but there is no time to explain. Follow me, and stay close.” Standing the bench upright, he leaned the polished portion over the crack. Balancing it with care, he covered as much as he could. “It will not hold them long. Run!”

Jade dashed behind Camoe as he ran through the rear entry. Charging past a small kitchen table, he slid to a stop in front of a large, iron stove built flush into the gray polished stone. Twisting an iron handle, he flung open the cook-stove door. A layer of ash packed the bottom. Beyond, a small opening gaped. “Our only chance is to follow the smoke ventilation chute. Go on, I will be right behind you.” Without waiting to see if she complied, he grabbed a stringed leather bag from the table and moved to a cupboard. Sweeping some items into it, he dropped the flask in last.

Shifting her bag to hang on her back, Jade crawled into the stove belly on her hands and knees. Ash exploded with every movement, there was no help for it. Coughing, she paused at a dark, circular opening. Smooth gray stone led inward, sloping uphill gently before an ominous blackness swallowed it.

Camoe crawled behind her. “Keep going,” he said, pulling the door closed.

Darkness enveloped her. “I can’t see very far.”

“Can you carry this?” he asked, thrusting a candle near her thigh. She grabbed it by the base, thankful for the meager light. Pushing her way into the opening, Jade awkwardly held the burning candle before her while pulling herself along with her free hand. Thankfully, the vent shaft was smooth, but even so, it was rough going uphill. Occasionally she could feel her bag drag along the vent roof. Sweat broke out on her brow. Pausing, she rubbed her eyes on her upper shoulder. Warm wax dripped on hand. Soon the candle would be small enough it would burn her skin. Then what would she do?