Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) (8 page)

“Do not stop! They may be able to get around the door.” Camoe said softly, his voice urgent.

“I’m going to have to at some point, or throw this candle away.”

“Keep going. It may not go far.”

Jade found that using her feet to push as she pulled her body up the tube with her free hand required far less exertion. Her pace quickened. Speaking was possible. “You’ve never been this way?”

Camoe’s voice echoed past her as if he was right behind her, but she suspected he was still guarding the entrance for a little while. “Why would I? I have never been in any danger in my room. The flickers hunger for
you
, I can feel it.”

She almost stopped. “What? Why would they want me?”

Finally, she could hear Camoe shuffling some distance behind her. His voice echoed past as if he was floating beside her. “I am not certain, but I suspect your aura ability and your lack of many seasons have a lot to do with it. The Dark Users herd them around by taking advantage of their penchant for souls and innocence. You must be a bright beacon in their barren, colorless world. Desire to feed on you has thrown them into a frenzy.”

Jade hesitated, nearly stopping again, before resuming her pace. Feed on her, Sweet Mother, what kind of place had she brought herself to? “Wait…you said you sensed it? How can you? What are you?”

The sound of a mirthless chuckle drifted past. “I thought you would have guessed by now. Perhaps you are from another world. I almost killed you in the Great Hall; do you want to know why?”

She froze. Her instincts in the hall had been frighteningly correct. “Why would you do that?”

“I will tell you, but you have to keep moving. “Astura knows me as an essence druid, besides viewing a User’s color; I pick up subtle hints of intent. Anyone or anything, living or not, has an intent exuding outward from them, and I can sense it. I have what they call the True Sense. It has only happened a select few times throughout our history, usually when something catastrophic is about to occur. Without fail, my ability has always worked. Until today, that is. I get nothing from you as if you are a creation made by magic with no soul. Is it because you are from another world? I do not know, but I
intend
to find out.”

Jade suppressed a shudder. Camoe’s cold statement sounded like he intended to slay her if unsure of her motives. Her only intention was to leave his world as soon as possible. Surely, he couldn’t find fault with her intent.

DARK THOUGHTS

Push-pull, push-pull,
the chute seemed to go on forever. Jade kept going, snaking methodically onward and upward through the cooking vent. Mechanically, she focused on two words glowing in her mind.
Push-pull, push-pull
, working her legs, then her arms, she undulated through the darkness like a robotic worm tunneling through space. Dark thoughts lurked in her mind, waiting for an opportunity to gain control, to leave her a gibbering mess. As soon as a random thought coalesced in her mind, it would turn dark, taking on a substance her fears found harder and harder to dispute.

Out of the nothingness before her, a thought seeped inside. She’d crawled into an impossibly elongated coffin ejector—built to propel the deceased sailing off the Mountain and into the gray ocean of the Wasted Sea. She was going to die in here. No one would ever find her in here.
Stop it,
she told herself. Repeatedly quelling the notion, she wondered if she was going to run out of air. The vent tube was hot and stifling, her breathing labored. Was the air becoming thinner? No. The draft in the chute fanned ash past her head when she moved. It was a vent, after all, designed to draw smoke from the citadel fires. That brought to mind another fear. What could they do if someone lit a large fire below? Nothing, they were as helpless and naive as a bug crawling inside a hover transport, combustion shaft. What were they thinking? Jade pushed on, worry hyperventilating the air in her lungs, each drop of her knee or hand made it harder to breathe through the cloud of unseen ash.

Push-pull, push-pull,
her thighs burned, her back hurt as if it carried the weight of the citadel above, and her lungs gasped like a fish trying to survive in one of the few freshwater lakes left in Low or Mid Realm. At this rate, she’d go as most of the fish had there, dorsal fin down and unmoving. She’d give much to know how much farther the bloody shaft was going to force her to crawl.

If only she could see something. The second time hot wax had splattered her thumb and palm she cried out and dropped the thing. Darkness had swallowed her then. The dark thoughts had crept in not long after. Jade hated it. How had bats lived in pitch-blackness all the time? Would she ever see light again?

Push-pull, push-pull,
bleakly, Jade realized Camoe’s shuffles behind had grown quiet. She stopped to listen. Had she finally moved beyond hearing him? Or had the flickers found a way inside? Fear knifed her gut as she thought about it. After a short, silent struggle, the flickers had consumed him. Now he was one of them, slithering toward her, his sightless eyes fixed on her vibrant, yummy soul.
Stop!

Dark thoughts again, she couldn’t allow
them
to fester or she’d end up petrified. All she had to do was just keep moving, one knee, one elbow, and one long and lonely shuffle at a time. She kept at it.

Another interminable struggle in the dark brought the realization she was no longer squirming uphill. In fact, she was going downhill at a sharp angle. She must have passed a vertical branch. Gaining momentum, she slid downward without effort, beginning to build an uncomfortable friction on the side dragging the vent tube bottom. She rolled onto her other side until it too, got hot. She struggled back to her original side, but she was slowing, the incline had lessened. Coming to a stop, the blackness seemed brighter somehow. Excited, she gathered a second wind, pumping her legs and arms faster. The dark faded into a gray wall.
Push-pull, push-pull, keep your knees moving.
Now she made out patches of the purple-gray stone of the vent giving her a burst of energy. Scrambling faster, she found golden light pouring through an open door comparable to Camoe’s kitchen, except larger. Firewood and fire starter was stacked in front. Jade crawled through it, sweeping most out the door. A rough stone floor rose up to meet her, stinging her palms and bruising her knees, blazing light lanced into her eyes. Squeezing them closed, she rolled onto her back and extended her legs, working the cramps out slowly one leg at a time. The hard stone floor helped loosen her burning back muscles, she sighed with relief. After a short interval, she cracked her eyelids open, giving her vision adequate time to adjust. Thankfully, the light wasn’t as bright as it had first seemed, glowing dimly from shards of amber mounted with wire from several places on the wall.

A shadowy figure moved near the stove.

Jade bolted upright and nearly swooned.

The figure turned.

Jade gaped. Mop-like hair, sunken yellow-orange eyes, and brown burlap-textured skin filtered through her disbelief. Unusual characteristics for certain, though normal compared to the thing’s facial features that were drawn with thick, charcoal lines. Wide scowling eyebrows, a round nose, and a grim mouth housing several jagged teeth kept her staring. There was no chin or neck, the face simply fused with the shoulders. But she had no doubts vitality flowed inside the figure. Its yellow-orange eyes shone bright with a candid self-awareness.

Looking closer, she realized there was something strange beyond the color of the eyes; something about the eyelids…The eyelids were nonexistent. Blinking wouldn’t be possible. How dry the eyes must be to the creature. Except “creature” didn’t seem right “figurine” fit better. The figurine looked contrived from whatever material someone had on hand. A white cooking apron covered the raggedy clothes it wore, but exposed the oddly textured skin. The skin appeared as malleable as humans did as it stooped easily to retrieve a branch she’d strewn on the stone floor. The doll-man dumped the wood in the iron fireplace to form a teepee.

She left the figurine to its task and looked around.

Lined in the center of the room, five black-iron cauldrons hung suspended on twisted-iron shepherds’ crooks above metal bins banked with coals. Two cauldrons were bubbling briskly with a brown substance and a whitish mash steeped in a third. The rest were clean and empty, tilted on their side.

Baking aromas smelling strongly of succulent meats and pastries from somewhere close made her stomach rumble—a painful reminder breakfast was the last meal eaten. Two large bread trays with many loaves inside baked a golden brown, took up counter space along one wall, making her dry mouth water. On the far side, three smaller kettles filled with yellow vegetables warmed on a grill behind the big iron vessels. The figurine bent over near one of the pots, then pivoted toward the stove. Gripped in the jaws of iron tongs outstretched before the doll-like man, a coal ember glowed red.

Jade swept the wood out of the stove, scattering it on the floor.

The raggedy man-like figurine paused mid-step, one foot raised. Yellow-orange eyes considered her, unblinking. Then, spinning slowly, it marched back toward the banked coals heating the cauldrons.

Jade shrugged. It should buy Camoe time as she studied the movements of the strange, burlap-skinned…thing. Lifting and bending each leg with precise, jerky movements as if it was a wind-up child’s toy, the raggedy man halted near a bubbling cauldron. Bending fluidly, the figure plunked the coal in a bin. Performing an about face, it began high-stepping back. It had no knees.

Ashes mushroomed from the fireplace, adding to the dust covering her.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, she made out Camoe buckling his sword and sheath around his waist. Now she knew why she’d kept ahead of the druid. The limited space of the vent shaft had forced him to carry his sword in one hand.

Creating a second dust cloud, Camoe slapped his brown leather apparel as he regarded her. “Are you okay? You are grayer then if a death ambler had bitten you. I suppose I look it, too.”

Before she could ask what a death ambler was, the raggedy man stepped between them, bending at the waist, to gather the firewood.

“Blast!” Camoe swore. Springing backward, he drew his sword.

Jade stepped in front of the raggedy man. “Wait! It hasn’t bothered me. I’m sure it’s harmless.”

Camoe’s lip curled, his eyes a hard, light gray. “Stand aside. With luck, it has not yet reported to its master. Pray I am not too late.” Raising his gleaming sword, he advanced.

Jade stayed put. Whatever the raggedy man was, he hadn’t threatened her in any way. There was no indication it meant her harm. “You’re not going to hurt him. It would’ve attacked me by now, had it wanted.”

“You do not know these Dark Creations, Jade! Once created, there is a constant telepathic link to their master unless released by their creator. Most Dark Users have no reason to set them free and every foul reason to keep them under their corrupted control. Now, for the last time, stand aside!” Camoe’s jaw tightened.

“Hold it,” Jade said, raising her hands, thinking furiously. “What about the flickers? Shouldn’t we be going?”

“What about them? I don’t think they were able to get past the iron stove or they would have caught us easily. Now, stand aside.”

“Wait! Won’t it alert the master if you suddenly sever this link?”

“Yes, but we shall be gone from here by then. A Dark Creation’s death can incapacitate the User for many bells. Particularly if it is a sudden and violent death, which I can make happen,” Camoe said, his voice cold. The lack of color in his eyes showed he meant every word. He reached out to push her to the side.

Shrugging his hand away, Jade glared, holding her arms wide. “You’ll have to kill me before I’ll let you destroy it.”

For a long moment, Camoe’s light-gray eyes shone with stark hatred. Jade stood with her arms out, determined to spare the raggedy man. Slowly his eyes darkened to the familiar blue. Finally, he sheathed his sword. “Have it your way for now, my strange young companion. However, know this, should I detect the smallest hint your pet Dark Creation has contacted its master, I shall dispatch it without hesitation. For your sake and mine, I hope it is not too late by then.” Stalking to a heavy iron doorway, he cracked it open.

Jade released a breath she only now realized she was holding. Camoe could’ve easily thrown her to the side and sliced the raggedy man to pieces. She was glad the druid had elected not to; discovering what material made up the doll man’s insides was something she didn’t want to experience. Besides, her instincts screamed the doll man meant them no harm. Leaving him to relight the stove, she slipped past the cauldrons.

Wrapping two steaming bread loaves in some brown, broad leaf she found on the counter, she stuffed both in her black bag, and then tied a nearby flask of water to her waist. As she finished, she remembered the white crystal candle had struck an object when she put it in the bag. Taking a moment, she fished inside while keeping an eye on Camoe. She didn’t want him reneging on his word to leave the poor doll man alone. Her hand brushed something smooth under the candle, which reminded her of the arrow shaft protruding from the girl’s back for some reason she couldn’t fathom.

Suddenly, the rotation around Camoe froze. The scene continued where she’d left off. Halting long enough to scoop the girl into his arms, Camoe ran, tears streaming down his face. Arrows flew past. Stumbling into a copse of monstrous, living trees, he set the girl on a tall horse tethered beside another. The girl held on weakly. Untying both horses, he vaulted onto horseback behind her and charged off, leading one of the horses. The scene faded as Jade caught another glimpse of the blue crystal candle gripped in the girl’s delicate, blood-soaked hand.

Stunned by the images clarity, Jade swallowed hard. It had seemed so fresh, so real, as if it’d happened just now. His look of frightened worry still shone clearly.

Removing her hand, she was surprised to find the object had come out of the bag with it. Wrapped around her fingers, a silver chain held a polished onyx arrowhead surrounded by a silver ring. Fastened by pins to the inside topmost portion, the arrowhead rotated freely, as did the silver ring it hung from. Halting its delicate spin, Jade ran her thumb along an outer edge near the tip, feeling the sharpness of it. Tiny symbols engraved around the silver ring and the arrowhead’s center was too small for her to make out, but it didn’t matter. Crystalyn would know what they meant. Slipping the chain over her head, she stowed it under her shirt for safekeeping.

As she strode to the room’s sole exit, the flask hung heavy at her side, something she hadn’t expected. Perhaps so much exertion had drained her. Or the image viewing had taken precious energy from her, perhaps a combination of both. It was surprising that Camoe’s image had slowed without her concentrating on it, but she didn’t want to dwell on it, for now. Camoe would likely have some insight into the strange occurrence, but it was a delicate subject for her to broach with him. Performing an act of violence in some way was all he wanted, or so it seemed. Jade stopped at the door, gazing over Camoe’s back as he squatted to peer into a dimly lit corridor. “Do you know where we are?” she asked keeping her voice low.

“I do believe so. We are near the soldiers’ barracks, which gives me an idea. We may be able to escape this miserable place. Our only hope is to follow this hallway to the washroom. From there, we should have access to the Citadel’s drainage tunnels.”

“You mean sewers?”

“Precisely, the tunnels must eventually empty into the black swamps. I cannot see them being too heavily guarded. Twisting to look at her, he allowed the door to swing closed, frowning. “Unfortunately, there is a major flaw in the plan. As I said, we have to walk past the soldiers’ barracks, and worse, the food hall. I should have grabbed a pair of User robes when we left. Of course, they may not have held up. Soldiers and Users don’t mix well. They prefer to stick with their own kind.”