Bridge Beyond Her World

by Brandon Barr

  Bridge Beyond Her World

  Song of the Worlds Book 2

  Brandon Barr

  Contents

  #BrandonsBuddies

  Map of Hearth

  Map of the Hold and the Verdlands

  LOAM

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Hearth

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  LOAM

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  BIRTH

  Chapter 11

  BRIDGE

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  HEARTH

  Chapter 16

  BRIDGE

  Chapter 17

  HEARTH

  Chapter 18

  LOAM

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  HEARTH

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  LOAM

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  CORE

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  HEARTH

  Chapter 32

  LOAM

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  HEARTH

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  To Raymond Morehouse, Chris Fik, Jeff Harry, Daniel Meers, Steve Martinez, and Trevor Garton, my long time friends. And to my brother, Justin, who saved my life.

  Please consider supporting Brandon’s family as he battles cancer.

  #BrandonsBuddies

  Click here for more information

  LOAM

  Hope is never further than a bend in the river or a changed heart.

  -Erdu Proverb

  Chapter One

  WINTER

  The silence haunted her.

  Winter struggled to open her eyes and failed. She felt too weak. Behind her eyelids, a cacophony of emotions fought for answers. Her entire body had been dead, completely numb, and she hadn’t been able to lift so much as a finger. But now, she could feel her body again. She summoned her strength and felt the fingers on her right hand curl. The simple sensation of movement brought enormous relief.

  But why was it suddenly so quiet? She remembered hearing Rose, the captain of the Watch, screaming out the farmers’ death sentence. The clash of steel, the screams of the wounded and dying. And then, last of all, the strange rumbling sound from overhead.

  But now, there was almost complete silence.

  What had happened? Where were the farmers?

  A sobering thought came upon her: had the battle finished while she lay unconscious? Was she left for dead, surrounded by the bodies of her friends and neighbors?

  And Aven. Where was Aven? Her heart felt sick.

  A sound broke through her fears. Footsteps echoed not far away. Several sets of feet. Three? Four?

  Voices. A woman’s commanding tone, her words spoken with a strange accent.

  A masculine voice replied to the woman.

  The footsteps were coming closer.

  Winter tried to open her eyes again, finally succeeding. Piercing sunlight blinded her, and the footsteps came to a stop nearby.

  “She’s awake,” said the man.

  The woman spoke in return, “Arentiss, go get Alael. Tell him the girl has awakened.”

  A pair of footsteps moved away.

  “Can she hear us?” came the man’s voice.

  “I think so. Winter, can you hear us?” said the woman.

  Winter tried to lift her head, tried to raise herself. But the effort was futile; her muscles were numb and tingly. Who were these people? How did they know her name?

  She heard whispering between the woman and the man, then a startling face appeared overhead. It was a woman, the skin of her face as dark as silt, her white teeth shining through a warm smile. The woman’s hair was slate gray with a sprinkling of white, and it was woven neatly on top of her head.

  “Do not worry. Your brother is asleep,” said the woman. “My name is Karience. I am the Empyrean of the Guardian order here on Loam.”

  Winter stared at her a moment and managed to whisper, “The others? The farmers?”

  “They’re asleep, as you were moments ago.”

  The sense of mystery and awe Winter had always felt toward the Guardians now churned afresh. Did they possess magical powers? What secret knowledge could lay sleep upon an entire gathering of people?

  “Even the horses sleep?” asked Winter.

  Karience laughed. “Yes, the horses are using their riders as pillows. We will probably have to mend more than a few fractured bones. Let’s hope the Baron is in a better mood when he wakes from his procedure. If he would have only taken your pointed advice, we could have arrived as a parade instead of as peacekeepers.”

  It took her a moment to realize the woman spoke of Winter’s attempt to force the Baron to be lenient by threatening him with a dagger.

  The tingling in her muscles was wearing off. Winter managed to push herself into a sitting position. Her head swam. It felt as if she’d been lying there a week. She looked and found Aven beside her. His face was relaxed and handsome, even though there was a lot of blood on him. Especially on his sleeve, which was cut open. She couldn’t see any wounds. Aven breathed comfortably, as if he was at home in bed, and she were only sneaking in to slip a bracelet under his fingers as she did on occasion. All around the field, bodies lay as if dead.

  A young man, perhaps five years older than Winter, stood beside Karience. Another Guardian, from the look of his clothing. His skin was also strange, but only because it was so fair, especially standing beside the dark Empyrean. He looked at Winter curiously, the slant of his lips betraying amusement. Why? Did he find her disorientation humorous? The thought only deepened Winter’s confusion. The scene surrounding her was bizarre. She wondered what would happen if everyone were suddenly to wake.

  Karience and the young man wore loose white pants and fitted white shirts. A sigil of a starship bursting through a severed sword shone upon their right breasts. Beneath each sigil was a three-color pattern that differed between the two of them. What the colors meant, Winter couldn’t guess.

  It was then she noticed the massive hulk rising from behind the smithy. It was like a giant bird, with a girth twice the size of the market.

  A starship!

  The sight of it stole Winter’s breath away. The farmers’ tales heard over the years could not have prepared her for this moment. The strength and elegance of the starship was beyond anything she could ever have imagined. Standing there in a cow pasture, the vessel seemed so enchanting and otherworldly. Much like the two Guardians standing before her.

  “Here she is,” said Karience to a bearded man who was approaching. He was dressed in clothing similar to hers, though dyed the lightest blue instead of white.

  “Winter, this is our physician, Alael. Do you have any lingering pains?”

  “No.”

  Alael bent and touched her neck. Winter felt something tug on her flesh as Alael pulled from her skin a small piece of metal that looked like a tack. He stared at it, as if it were telling him something.

  “It was a nasty fall,” said Alael. “You likely wouldn’t have walked again without our intervention.”

  “You’re not broken anymore,” said the young man dressed in white. “I’m Rueik.” He held out his hand, and, when she took it, he helped her up onto her feet and steadied her wit
h a hand on her back. “I imagine you’d like to see the ship.”

  “Soon enough,” interrupted Karience. “First, we wake a few of the others. There’s still Baron Rhaudius's mess to fix.”

  Alael bent down beside Aven, his beard brushing Aven’s chest as he listened to her brother’s breathing. Then he removed a tack-like thing from Aven’s neck. Aven immediately began to stir. Winter knelt and grabbed his hand.

  It’s alright, she tapped into his hand gently.

  Aven opened his eyes wide then rose awkwardly to his feet. He took in the strange scene with wild eyes.

  “They’re sleeping,” said Winter softly. “The Guardians made us all sleep. Do you see the starship?”

  Aven turned to stare at it, his face unreadable.

  Winter watched Alael follow Karience and Rueik toward the pavilion, leaving her alone with her brother.

  “This feels like a dream.” Aven held up his arm and probed it with his fingers. “My wound is gone. As if it was never there.”

  Like a taste of the Makers’ realm, tapped Winter. She lifted the vial up through the neck of her tunic to have a look at Whisper, her beautiful butterfly.

  Aven glanced at the vial, and from the corner of her eye she saw a scowl form on his face.

  It was a silent reminder that he didn’t approve of her actions today, even though everything seemed to have worked out well.

  A strong hand squeezed Winter’s shoulder and spun her around. A giant stood there, and instantly, any fear she had melted away. She knew only one giant, and he was remarkably good and kind. Gray Bear took her in his arms and lifted her from the ground, squeezing the air from her lungs as he clutched her.

  “You shouldn’t have,” he said. “Damn brave girl, you are.” Tears were in his eyes. He held her suspended above the ground in one arm as he reached out with the other and grabbed Aven, drawing him into the embrace. “I owe you both my life for what you did.” He finally let her down, and she tried not to gasp.

  “What charm is this?” continued Gray Bear as he looked out upon the sea of bodies.

  “The Guardians have done it,” said Winter, pointing to the starship.

  The Guardians. Once again, as when she had almost drowned, Winter had been saved from certain death. Only this time, it was the Guardians instead of Leaf, the Maker, who saved her.

  “Have you seen Rabbit?” asked Gray Bear. “She was in that tree there when she shot the Baron in the throat with an arrow.”

  Winter remembered her vision: Rabbit lying on the ground dead, blood on her face. She prayed that vision had not come to pass. She couldn’t see Rabbit anywhere amongst the bodies. One of them was Rose, thrown from her horse and lying face up, arms spread in the grass. Winter surveyed the entire scene, realizing that the only people awake were the three of them.

  “We weren’t expecting this,” said a voice behind her. She turned, along with Gray Bear and Aven. It was Rueik, squatting down, picking at the grass. He looked up at them. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Twenty-eight years the Guardians have been here, on this planet, and not once have we used any of our peacekeeping tools. We aren’t supposed to. You’re not yet a protected world. If Karience had followed her directives, we still wouldn’t have.” He stood and tossed the grass in his hand to the wind. “But because of you, Winter, she just couldn’t help herself. She was set on saving you. I’ve never seen her so determined. All of you can count yourselves fortunate to still be breathing right now.”

  Winter’s mind turned to the Makers. Did they send the Guardians? Was it the Maker, Leaf, who pushed Karience to protect her? A sense of awe washed over her. The Makers were watching over her. In Rueik’s words, she sensed the call of destiny. She said to him—and herself, “The Makers want me alive.”

  Rueik’s eyes met hers. She could read nothing on his calm face. What did he think of her words? She waited for him to speak, but he said nothing.

  “There was a girl in that tree,” interrupted Gray Bear, pointing to the tall bulge oak on the edge of the field. “What happened to her?”

  “Dark hair, shot the Baron in the throat—that one?”

  Gray Bear nodded.

  “She’s in the ship. She took an arrow from one of the soldiers. Alael already mended her.”

  Gray Bear’s face paled. “Can I see her now?”

  “She’ll be brought out. It won’t be long.”

  A fourth Guardian—a woman—approached them from the direction of the ship. Each new face fascinated Winter, for they were so unlike those of her own world.

  “Everything’s ready,” said the woman, stopping beside Rueik. She was dressed in white, same as he was, and looked to be perhaps thirty years old, maybe younger. She had a petite face—short nose, small mouth—with sharp blue eyes that studied the three of them. The line of her lips remained grimly straight until finally loosening into a precise half-smile.

  “Rueik, you’ve forgotten polite protocol again. This is where you’re supposed to introduce me.”

  “This is Arentiss,” said Rueik with a hint of annoyance. “A Missionary, like myself.” He gave Arentiss their names, and as he did, she studied each of them with an unreadable expression that was neither cold nor warm. Winter noticed that the color pattern beneath Rueik’s sigil was the same as Arentiss'. White-red-black.

  So, these two had the same color arrangements, but were different from the first two Guardians. Perhaps this identified them as Missionaries? Whatever that meant.

  “It’s time to negotiate,” said Karience, making her way through the maze of sleeping horses and riders back to them. “I won’t leave here only to have the bloodshed continue.”

  The two Missionaries looked at each other in what seemed to be surprise, then turned to her and nodded.

  Behind Karience appeared a third person, the sight of whom was like a dagger in Winter’s heart.

  It was Pike.

  “What could they possibly want him for?” whispered Aven.

  “I don’t know,” Winter said. There was blood on his face, but any wound he might have had was gone. The Guardians must have healed him too. She wished they wouldn’t have. The world would be better off without him.

  Movement at the entrance of the starship made her look that way just as Rabbit and Gray Bear emerged, arms wrapped around each other.

  The sight gave Winter comfort. She didn’t know why Karience had healed him, but the Guardian leader had broken some kind of rule to save her. She must have a reason for what she had done. Perhaps she was responding to guidance from the Makers. Winter was willing to trust that it was so.

  A sudden thought touched her. For the first time in her life, she was safe from the Baron.

  She took a deep breath and felt the rush of tears in her eyes.

  This was what freedom felt like.

  Are you alright? tapped Aven. Why are you crying?

  She squeezed her brother’s hand and smiled at him through her tears. She tapped, We’re free now! We’re free. The Baron can’t hurt us anymore.

  For a brief moment he continued to frown, then the skeptical creases that so often marred her brother’s brow went smooth, and he returned her smile with a gentle smile of his own.

  Winter looked up at the sky. The Maker’s eyes…she could feel them upon her like the eyes of a caring mother or father.

  What lay ahead of her—her calling, her destiny—it swirled within her, warming her bones and singing to her soul.

  She was free to follow her destiny. The voice of Leaf stirred her memory.

  On your shoulders stand many heroes, and under your feet the life of a Beast. Because you now live, a hundred worlds may yet live.

  Her destiny was doubtless fraught with danger, but she was ready for it. She was not afraid.

  _____

  AVEN

  “I want her dead!” roared Baron Rhaudius from underneath the shadow of the Guardian starship. His face was layered with dirt and sweat, and he was pointing at Winter, who stood there calml
y, staring at him. “And you won’t stop me. I’ll not have outsiders overruling the sword of justice on my own land.”

  Aven felt his stomach churn, sickened by the Baron’s vicious demand. The Baron had been spewing the same visceral rage ever since they brought him out of the starship. Aven couldn’t understand by what miracle they had made his throat new again. There was a slight redness where the arrow had pierced his neck, but that was all.

  Pike stood beside Rhaudius, his face stolid except for the hint of distress in his eyes. Karience, Rueik, and Arentiss were positioned like a wall between the Baron and Winter, physically signaling their intent to protect her. The three Guardians’ postures was no small relief to Aven.

  Beside Winter towered Gray Bear, his mate Rabbit tucked protectively within his large arms.

  “I came for Winter,” said Karience. “I will bring her back with me. Your insistence on aggression over negotiation earned the knife at your back. The hostility was your creation.”

  Her eyes never wavered from the Baron, as if making clear her words were an iron gate, and her agenda would rule the day. Other than Gray Bear, Aven had never seen anyone stand up to Rhaudius.