Krymzyn (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 1) (16 page)

When we step into the pale green light outside the tunnel, I suddenly worry that the Watcher might have heard what happened inside the cavern. I have to assume that it was a first for Krymzyn. His face appears as solemn as it did when we entered, so I decide that everything’s fine.

“Thank you,” I say to him as we stand on the ledge.

“If your experience was enlightening, I’m honored,” he replies.

After bowing to the Watcher, Sash takes her spear from him. We walk down the trail hand in hand. As I look out over the forest below, I see a few scarlet-haired Hunters strolling through the woods. Constructs work at marble slabs in the clearing. Watchers stand guard on the distant wall. They all feel the world around them, deep inside every part of them, every moment of their lives.

They don’t need to show feelings of fulfillment with a facial expression, Sash once told me. If I don’t see smiles or hear laughter in Krymzyn, it doesn’t mean the people lack emotion. If they don’t have immediate family as I know it, it’s because they have the entire world around them, including every living being in this world. They seem to have transcended beyond emotions as I understand them. They feel a perpetual sense of fulfillment, honor to serve the whole, and share those feelings with everything around them.

“The first time I came to Krymzyn,” I say to Sash, “I was in awe of you, fascinated from the moment I saw you. Now, I feel that way about everything here. I mean, it really is a world of balance.”

“When you feel that balance,” she answers, “you understand Krymzyn.”

I stop walking, pull her to me by the hand, and stand in front of her. “I do understand Krymzyn,” I say. “I want to be here with you.”

When Sash looks into my eyes, her face is darkened again by a look of overwhelming sorrow. “If you seek a purpose in Krymzyn, you should do so because you want to be in Krymzyn, not because you want to be with me.”

“Why are you saying that, Sash?”

“I want you to live the life that’s best for you,” she replies, “because I care about you.”

“I belong here . . . with you,” I say.

“We belong together, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be together.”

“Sash, what are you talking about?” I ask, more confused now than by anything I’ve seen or heard in Krymzyn.

“Make decisions that are best for your life, Chase. That’s all I want for you.”

“My life is with you.”

She whisks by me and walks down the path. I know this discussion is over. She’s the most determined person alive—which is a polite way of saying stubborn—and I’m not sure how to react. With frustration growing inside me, I trot to catch up to Sash. As I walk beside her, she takes my hand firmly in hers but doesn’t say a word. Larn, his face stoic, waits for us where the trail meets the road.

“Have you successfully completed your visit to the Reflecting Pool?” Larn asks when we reach him.

“I saw what I came to see,” I say, still distracted by the conversation with Sash.

The three of us walk down the road towards the gate. Sash is quiet, withdrawn, but she keeps my hand grasped tightly in hers as we walk. Larn breaks the silence.

“We have items to transport to the Delta on our return journey. Our travel will be slowed, but I’ll carry you as we did coming to the Mount.”

“Larn,” I reply, “I never know when I’m going to leave, so if I’m suddenly gone, I want you to know that the only reason I said what I did about Balt earlier is because I care about what happens to all of you here.”

“I believe your intentions are sincere,” Larn says to me. “I’ll discuss this issue with the Disciples immediately upon our return.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

As we near the gate, I see two large metallic objects by the side of the road that look like they belong in the Smithsonian. One reminds me of a fuel tank from a fighter jet, a twelve-foot-long tube, maybe two feet tall, with rounded points on both ends. The rear stands on forks connected to a single wheel, a foot-high thin orb of solid steel. Like wheelbarrow handles, two metal arms extend from the front.

The other is a football-shaped wagon the same length as the aerodynamic tube. Inside the wagon stand a few stools with their feet in the air, four table legs sticking straight up, and an assortment of spears, stakes, pitchers, and knives. A black mesh net tied to the sides holds the steel items in place. Two metal handles are attached to the front of the cart, while a single wheel holds up the rear. Both of the vehicles have small angled wings seamlessly adhered to their sides.

“Travelers transport items the Constructs make on the Mount to the Delta,” Sash says as I study the vehicles. “The tube is empty but will be filled with sap from the sustaining trees and returned to the Mount.”

“So why didn’t you just have me ride in a wagon on the way up here?” I ask.

“If Murkovin attack during our journey,” Larn answers, “they often target our transports, either for the items we create, such as spears and rope, or for sap when the tube is full. Since we can’t travel as fast with the transports behind us, we never use them to carry people.”

“How much faster are you than others in Krymzyn?” I ask.

Larn ponders for a moment before answering. “At the speed we traveled coming to the Mount, I can make ten round trips, while someone who isn’t a Traveler, excluding Sash, does so only once.”

If we peaked at a twenty-five hundred miles per hour coming to the Mount, that means the average person in Krymzyn can run at a speed of two hundred and fifty miles per hour. I know I won’t win any cross-country races in Krymzyn if I have a purpose here.

“So how fast will we travel on the way back?” I ask.

“Our speed will be cut in half,” he says. “We’re not able to blend the light of steel, so the drag of the vehicles reduces our speed.”

I nod, the whole traveling concept making much more sense to me after seeing what I saw in the Pool. Sash takes my helmet and gloves from me and, with hers, returns them to the rack by the gate. We all walk to where Miel and Tela stand waiting for us.

“We’re ready to depart,” Larn calls to the Watcher standing above the arch.

The green-haired man descends the ladder, unlatches the bolts, slides away the brace, and swings both doors open.

Miel’s arms flex with creases of toned muscle when she lifts the handles of the large steel cart. Tela takes the arms extending from the long tube in her hands. With the transports rolling behind them, they both pass through the gate.

I turn to Sash, rest my hands on her shoulders, and look into her eyes. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here,” I say, “but I’ll be back soon. I want to have my Ritual. I believe I have a purpose here, and part of that purpose is being with you.”

Sash struggles to smile, her face again veiled by sadness. “I love you, Chase,” she says. “Don’t do anything on your plane that would risk your life there.”

She kisses my lips before I can say anything, turns, and sprints away.

Larn crouches for me to leap on his back. After I’m in place and secure, he begins to jog behind Tela and Miel. Once we all start down the steep road towards the Barrens, the human shapes ignite.

A wake of light from Sash leading her way, Miel rockets down the road in front of us with her transport in tow. Tela trails behind the wagon, her aerodynamic tube lifting a few feet off the ground when she blends her light. Four minutes from the time we left the Mount should put us at the edge of the bridge.

I vow to keep my eyes open on the journey since, according to Larn, we’ll be traveling at about half the speed we reached when we came to the Mount. The air is perfectly clear, clean, and absent of any dust or particles, so I decide that I’m not really risking abrasion to my eyeballs. I also know, as they told me, that the sap I’ve consumed should prevent any damage.

A little over halfway through our travel, the rays I know are Sash slow until she’s beside us.

“Darkness!” Sash shouts.

The sound warps past my ears and dissolves into the air behind us. Sash races back to the front of Tela and Miel. Thirty seconds later, the light around the clouds begins to flicker. The billows animate, drops of rain slam against our faces, and Darkness descends. Our motion slows with a stutter as the light fades. When we rise over a hill, I see the metallic bridge a mile in the distance.

As the rain pounds down, human shapes of blurred white appear from the Barrens in front of us—four streaking to the road from the north and four speeding directly into our path from the south.

We’re within a hundred yards of the bridge when two black-veined beasts slam into the transport behind Miel. Metallic thuds resonate through the Barrens. The cart flips high in the air before crashing into the wet dirt beside the road.

Miel spins from the impact, no weapon in hand. Another Murkovin flies into her, drives her off the road, and tackles her to the ground. Claws rake across her face while the two grapple in the mud.

Sash flashes in behind the creature with every muscle in her body coiled. A wrath is unleashed when the tip of her spear splits open the Murkovin skull. We jolt to a stop after we pass them, and Larn drops my feet to the road.

“Tela! Take Chase!” Larn screams.

Sliding to a halt, Tela releases the handles of the tube and darts towards us. Larn pushes me in the direction of the bridge before he bursts towards Sash and Miel.

Red eyes flaming through the tempest of rain, four Murkovin descend upon Sash. Miel struggles on the ground at Sash’s feet with blood smeared across her face. Clangs of steel shrill through the storm while Sash defends Miel from the onslaught.

Sash impales a gruesome head on her spear, releasing a spray of blood-soaked beams. Another brute leaps past her towards Miel. Soaring into the fight, Larn smashes him to the ground. Miel staggers to her feet and wobbles towards the bridge. When she stumbles, a fifth Murkovin blasts out of the dark.

I start towards Miel, but a hand grabs my shirt, jerking me in the other direction.

“Run!” Tela screams. “We don’t have spears!”

She points to the two Murkovin who crashed into the cart. With weapons clutched in their hands, they charge at us from fifty feet away. Tela yanks me into a sprint towards the bridge.

I look over my shoulder at Miel as we run. A creature stabs his spear down at her. She tries to deflect the blow with her hands but the point rips open the side of her head. He throws himself on top of her. They wrestle on the ground with his face at the gash, her blood streaming to the dirt.

In one fluid motion, Larn springs to Miel’s side, rams a spear through the head of the beast, and grabs her by the shirt. Bolting towards the river, he drags Miel by his side. The two Murkovin chasing Tela and me cut towards Larn and Miel.

Hard metal pounds against my feet when Tela and I reach the bridge. She pulls me by the shirt as I desperately try to keep pace. Straining my head to the side, I spot Larn running towards us with Miel’s limp body still in one hand. Sash sprints at his heels, four corpses on the ground behind her, four Murkovin alive and in pursuit.

Tela and I cross over the crest of the bridge and stop halfway down the other side. The gates in the wall swing open.

“Get inside!” Tela yells at me. She turns away and races towards the arch.

Balt explodes through the doors. On the ground behind him, a Watcher lies face down in a pool of blood. Balt’s eyes aren’t amber. Points of burning red scorch the air between us. I crouch in the middle of the bridge.

Slowing as he nears me, taking aim with malevolent eyes, he suddenly thrusts his spear at my chest. I twist, dodge the tip, and hammer my elbow into his gut. His fist batters the side of my head, knocking me to my knees.

“Balt!” I hear Tork’s voice scream.

Balt ignores the voice, cocks his weapon, and jabs at me again. I hurl a fist against the steel pole, knocking the tip away from my face. Balt dashes towards the top of the bridge as Tork and three Watchers storm through the gate.

I try to stand, feel dizzy from the blows to my head, and fall again to my knees. My eyes follow Balt through the scathing rain while he runs towards the arch. Sash and Larn are still locked in a vicious fight with four Murkovin. Miel lies motionless on the bridge behind them.

Tela reaches the arch, leans down, and scoops Miel in her arms. She speeds back down the slope with the Traveler’s body held tightly against her chest. As Tork and the Watchers pass by me, I jump to my feet, fight the dizziness, and churn my legs towards the arch.

“Sash!” I shout as Balt closes in on her.

Sash spikes one Murkovin chest, but another creature stabs at her from the side. Larn swings his spear over the top of his head, knocking the Murkovin weapon away from Sash. A third beast gouges Larn’s shoulder. Larn turns, swings his spear with one hand, and crushes the creature’s nose.

“Saaash!” I scream again.

She spins to the sound of my voice as Balt lunges his spear at her stomach. With her feet at the edge of the bridge, Sash jerks her hips back and shoulders forward. The point arrows past her torso, scratchy metal sliding against her black shirt.

Balt lurches to a stop in front of Sash. With both hands grasping the steel, he slams the shaft up into her chin. When her feet lift off the bridge, she tries to catch the narrow ridge with her toes.

Larn twists, aiming a clenched fist at Balt. Balt ducks under the punch and flees towards the Barrens. The other Murkovin retreat just before Tork and the Watchers arrive.

Teetering on the lip of the bridge, Sash’s arms flail wildly in the air. Larn, off-balance and falling to the metal surface, stretches a blood-stained arm to her. Their fingertips just graze before Sash plummets to the rapids below.

We don’t need to swim. Only Serquatine swim in the river,
screams inside my head.

I suck in a huge breath as I sprint, angle to the side of the bridge, and leap into a dive.