Bridge Beyond Her World

by Brandon Barr

  Which still didn’t make her feel any better.

  “Rueik, Arentiss. If you would excuse us.”

  The two departed without a word. Karience made her way over to Aven and Winter, while Alael strode to a small table in the corner and began tapping on a monitor attached to the wall.

  At seventeen years of age, these two farmers would have still been considered children on her world; but here on Loam, the commoner learned responsibility and a work ethic at a far earlier age. Though they were mature, they were desperately lacking in other areas. They had no idea what they were walking into. Commoners were almost never allowed to take positions within the Guardians. On primitive worlds like Loam, it was a queen’s sister’s son, or a king’s bastard daughter, or a faithful friend of a princess or prince, who received the position.

  And the Guardians preferred it this way, for good reason. Though many of those the rulers put forward were ignorant or pompous narcissists—or both—there were always a few who had both character and a capable court education on which she could further build. But with a commoner, it was unusual if they could read or write, and they would certainly be conceptually behind in almost every category. Science, mathematics, languages, psychology, and the type of knowledge one took in by osmosis living on an advanced world. Technology would likely confound them for years, as would gaining a grasp of the wider worlds and varying cultures. There was only one reason that, out of one hundred eighty-nine candidates for the open positions, these three had won out.

  Winter.

  The girl sat on the examination table, legs tucked against her chest, arms wrapped around them, calmly observing her and Alael. She looked just like the image the little beetle had captured when it brought back Winter’s assessment. She looked like a fabled nymph. Slender, dark hair, skin the color of a dry leaf, an array of feathers tied in her hair. She had looked homely in the image but, in person, there was an exquisite allure about her crooked nose and unruly appearance.

  And then there was her brother, Aven. His hair was a mix of dark and blond, and it fell in half curls over his brow. His face was strong, eyes green like the sea overlooked by the Guardian’s Tower. Aven had a beautiful mouth, with lips she’d heard, again and again, speak of peace and kindness. He looked skeptically at her now, his eyes probing her.

  The beetle that followed Aven had captured much of his bifurcated psychology. It sprang from a painful loss he’d recently endured. His parents had been killed, along with his betrothed, Harvest. Because of this, Aven’s mind was scarred. Karience saw these wounds plainly on the young man’s face before her, taking their toll on his handsome features.

  “This must all be very strange to you,” she said. “How are you feeling? Uncomfortable? Overwhelmed?”

  “Thankful,” said Winter. “You’ve saved us. I don’t know why we are here, but I promise this: we are hard workers, and whatever we can do, we will do it well.”

  Karience felt Winter’s words like a fire on her skin, warming to the point of pain. The girl was so innocent, so naive about the situation she was entering. She wished the circumstances were stable and safe, as they had been before. But things had taken a sinister turn recently. And now she was bringing this girl and her brother into it.

  “And Aven, how do you feel?”

  His eyes scanned the room’s interior before answering. “Out of place. This is all so strange. This ship, the beds that come from the floor, the way the ceiling glows. I don’t know what you expect of us. I know you saved us, and I’m thankful for that, but why are we here? And more than that, why is Pike here?”

  Karience noted the emotion behind his last question. “The Baron only agreed to release you and Winter to us if we took Pike. I understand why his presence upsets you. But for now, you will have to trust me. He won’t hurt you while he’s here, I promise. I’ll explain more at another time.” She tried to reassure him with a confident nod. “As to why you are here, we’ll talk about that.”

  “Do the Guardians need farmers?” asked Aven. “Is that why you’ve chosen us?”

  Karience laughed. “By the stars, no! Your duties as a Guardian will be much more interesting. You can rest assured your days of hard labor are done.”

  Immediately, she noticed a change in Aven’s demeanor. She’d clearly said something he found distasteful. He gave her a guarded look. “Did I say something offensive?” she asked.

  “My parents worked land all their lives, and they loved it. I’m a farmer. I hope to have my own farm one day. I don’t know what people from other worlds value, but those are my dreams. That, and to find a mate and have children. That is what I want in life.”

  Karience frowned. Curse those psych reports and her damn assumptions. She was too accustomed to Loam’s nobles, and not its commoners. “Forgive me, Aven. I meant no ill by my words. As a Guardian, you can marry and have children whenever you choose. A farm might be harder to manage while you’re with us, but I suppose it’s possible. You may purchase one, but you’ll be living with us at our tower. And your duties will require you to be on call around the clock.”

  She glanced at Alael. He had turned away from the monitor and was fingering his dark beard absently, waiting for her to finish. She turned to him. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

  He seemed slightly bothered by her request. “I can explain the procedure to them.”

  “I’d rather do it myself. I’ve gone over their beetle feeds. I know them better than you. A private discussion is what they need.”

  Alael mumbled an assent, then left the room.

  Finally, she had the two alone. There was so much to tell them. It was hard to decide where to start.

  “Let me explain what your role will be as Guardians, and then I’ll explain the procedure. First, I assume you do not know much about how the portal works?”

  “Nothing at all,” said Winter. “I think Arentiss was about to explain it when you came in.”

  “Without getting into the theory behind how the portals work, the basic concept is simple. When a person walks through the portal on their home world, they will jump to any random world within our galaxy. Once they’ve arrived on a random world, what do you think happens if they turned around and walk back through the portal?”

  Winter said, “They either go to another random world or back to their own world.”

  Aven added, “And that random world could be in one of the seven other galaxies.”

  Karience smiled. “Well done. I see you’ve learned a lot already.”

  “I know you think we’re just dumb farmers...” Aven began.

  “I don’t think that at all. But I do think there is a great deal you do not know. Outside of the order, there is not a single person on your world who knows how many galaxies there are. We Guardians are protectors. We are here to keep you safe from the Beast, not interfere with your development. We have strict rules against advancing your knowledge. It is far better for your world to progress at your own pace.”

  “Why us?” Aven asked, a trace of suspicion in his tone. “You seem to know a lot about us. How do you even know who we are?”

  Karience hesitated, unsure how much to tell them so soon. “I know a lot about you because I put beetles out on both of you.”

  She let them absorb the idea for a moment before continuing. “To evaluate the many candidates recommended for the three positions, we send out bugs—insects and beetles—that have been made into what we call organic machines. They’re bugs that have been…altered. They watch your movements and record your words. In other words, we can see you move and hear you speak through them. We call this a beetle feed. From this, I learn who you are and what you do. This helps us know who is a good match for the role we are looking to fill.”

  Karience noticed their fingers speaking to each other. Just like the report described. How long they’d been silently talking just now, she didn’t know.

  Aven looked agitated.

  Winter finally opened her mouth. “You’ve
been watching my brother and I through the eyes of insects?”

  “Yes, to see if you were capable of the duties required in our order. So back to our original topic. When a person travels through the portal on their home world and arrives on a random world, if that person steps back through the portal on that random world, they will find themselves back on their home world. It is a law of the portals. This is the duty you will perform. Every world the Guardians protect has Emissaries. An Emissary allows outsiders to travel directly to our world by accompanying them through the portal. For instance, if I wanted to travel from Loam to my world, I would need you or your sister to accompany me if I wanted to return, for once I’ve reached my world, I need someone from your world to lead me back through the portal.”

  “How does leading work?” asked Winter.

  “It is what we describe as a person’s wake,” said Karience. “Picture the portal as a lake untouched by the wind. The water is still. If a person walks into the water, their bulk will disturb it, creating ripples. This image can be applied to the portal. When a person passes through, they leave a wake that lasts a short amount of time. This wake allows anyone who follows them through the portal to jump to the same world as the person who went through first. Thus, an Emissary can travel with me to my world by following after me, and then I can travel back to their world by following after them.”

  A smile had spread across Winter’s nymphish face while she talked, her orange-flecked eyes alight with some thought. Karience gazed quizzically at her and waited for an explanation.

  Winter reddened when she realized she was staring. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy. You’re telling me that Aven and I will be traveling between worlds?”

  “That is the duty of an Emissary, yes.”

  “It sounds so simple, but so exciting,” said Winter.

  Karience noted the different reactions between brother and sister. For all Winter’s excitement, Aven’s face hadn’t shown even a hint of enthusiasm. For someone rescued from a dreary existence as a lordling’s slave, he seemed strangely cold and aloof.

  “What happened to the Emissaries before us?” asked Aven.

  Karience breathed deep. What else was there to say but the truth?

  “Murdered,” she said. The word seemed to suck all the air out of the room in an instant. “As of right now, I cannot tell you further details, but know this: as long as you are within the Guardian’s quarters, you are safe. Whoever the murderer is, they cannot move against us from inside our own walls.”

  “What makes you sure of that?” asked Aven, his eyes locked on hers.

  There was so much to say, but it would have to wait. “You’ll have to trust me for now. As long as you are within our walls, you are safe. Let’s leave that ugly subject behind for now. We will talk about it again later. Now, as to your procedure. You will be receiving a VOKK. It is a device that will allow you to hear and speak any of the known languages of the Guardian worlds, as well as learn new languages quickly. It will also prevent you from revealing the advanced knowledge you acquire to the people of your own world. The device must be attached to your brain. I have one. All Guardians do.”

  A small trace of humor entered Aven’s skeptical eyes. “Maybe humans from other worlds have different kinds of heads, but I have something called a skull blocking my brain. It’s like a chicken egg, but harder and made out of bone.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Karience with a smile. “We won’t crack your egg. Our procedure is very sophisticated. I promise your skull will remain intact, and you won’t feel a thing.”

  Aven shook his head. “I can’t imagine something being put inside my head without feeling it.”

  “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  Aven’s eyes narrowed. “What if I refuse the procedure?” His tone was challenging.

  “You can refuse the VOKK,” said Karience. She was walking on dangerous ground now. She knew how attached the brother and sister were. If Aven left, Winter might leave with him, and she couldn’t risk that happening. “Considering you were unaware of your enrollment to be an Emissary, working with the Guardian Missionaries, I should be able to release you if you so choose. However, I’ve said some things to you that the people of your world do not yet know. Alael would have to remove those concepts from your mind. And that also requires a similar brain procedure.”

  Aven took her words in with a blank stare then turned to his sister. Karience noticed his fingers tapping upon Winter’s hand, then her fingers danced a reply upon Aven’s.

  “You still haven’t answered my earlier question. Why did you choose us?” asked Aven.

  Karience nodded toward Winter. “Your sister is the reason you were chosen.”

  “Me?” said Winter. “Why me?”

  “Because you are an Oracle. Or as you say on Loam, god-touched.”

  Winter’s tongue slid over her bottom lip. Karience could see the questions forming in her eyes. “An Oracle is the name for any person who has been given divine power. There are many different kinds of Oracles, I am told. But honestly, the subject is not a familiar one to me. You are the first Oracle I have ever met.”

  Winter’s brow conveyed her surprise. “Why are you interested in my being god-touched—an Oracle?”

  “It is not me who is interested. Nor is it the Magnus Empyrean. It is a high-ranking Sanctuss named Voyanta. She is the one who has overseen your beetle feed. She is part of a division of Guardians called Consecrators. I didn’t know such a division existed until the beetle brought back your recordings for analysis and—” Karience stopped herself. Words like recordings and analysis would only confuse them at this point. The VOKK would be very useful in this conversation. It would provide them a much better framework to conceptualize what she was saying.

  “To put it simply, they wanted you, Winter. Aven and Pike came as part of the package.” She would have to inform them about Pike and what had been done to him, but later. There were more pressing things now, and it would still be some time before his procedure was complete.

  Winter turned to look at her brother, the expression on her face unreadable to Karience.

  “You know a lot about us,” said Aven. “Only I knew about her gift.” The way he said gift made her think he saw it as anything but.

  “I do know a lot, but please do not take that in a negative way. As the Empyrean, it is my duty to know you before I bring you into the order. There are many who wish to infiltrate the Guardians and do great harm.”

  Karience shifted to look at Winter, “Your brother called your divine power a gift. Is that how you see it, Winter? As a gift?”

  Winter seemed uncomfortable having this secret she had only shared with her brother out in the open. Perhaps, the subject should be discarded until it was time to talk to the Consecrator.

  “Yes, it is a gift,” said Winter, then drew the vial containing Whisper from her tunic. “Do any of the other Guardians know of my gift? Rueik or Arentiss, or anyone else?”

  “No,” said Karience, eyeing the vial. She wanted to look at it closer, but she sensed that would be a bad idea.

  “Can it stay that way?”

  Karience put her hand on Winter’s shoulder. “Yes. Actually, it must stay that way, by order of Sanctuss Voyanta and the Consecrators. That is why I asked Alael to leave while I spoke to you.” Karience looked again at the blue butterfly. It was fascinating how Winter associated it with her gift. “The butterfly—what is its significance?”

  Winter stared at her a moment, then her lips quirked in a secret smile. “A pet. That’s all.”

  Karience nodded. Let her think her secret was her own. It would be up to the Consecrator to speak with her about it. It was time to bring Alael back in. There was much still to be done this day.

  “Have you decided about the VOKK?” she asked them. “Are you joining us?”

  Aven’s eyes drifted to Winter’s face. “I choose to stay with Winter. Her choice is my choice.”

  Winter met his
words with a radiant smile. “We shall stay with you,” she said. “I’m not here by accident. Traveling the stars is my destiny.”

  Hearth

  Chapter Three

  MELUSCIA

  Meluscia peered through the spy hole again into the room Mica shared with Praseme. Mica was there, seated at a small table, enjoying a tall cup of rum. Across the room, Praseme sat before a candle, her fingers working a needle through a rabbit skin blanket, her voice occasionally humming an unfamiliar tune.

  Meluscia reclined against the rock wall in the spies’ passageway, a pillow between her head and the cold stone. Remaining quiet, she listened to Praseme’s melodies. She guessed the blanket was for the baby and perhaps the tune as well.

  Hours had passed since she first arrived. Already she’d gone and observed several other servants she’d grown to know over the last year. The night watchman, his wife, and their five lively children were together in their cozy room, playing some kind of game with stickmen and dice on an old wool rug. Old Coriama, the gardener woman, was asleep in her rocking chair, and next to her was her granddaughter, Tula, who came most evenings to aid her. Tula served with twelve scullery maids performing tasks such as cleaning furniture, washing laundry, and the weekly polishing of the throne room and its gemmed furnishings. It was Old Coriama who was served Meluscia’s portion of food this evening. From the remains on the table, it looked like roasted lamb. Beside it was an apple core, an empty basket that had likely been full of biscuits, an untouched bowl of seared pepper and squash, and a small plate with a sprinkling of brown crumbs where some kind of cake or pastry had once existed.

  It gladdened Meluscia slightly, though she would have liked to have seen their faces when the food arrived. Sometimes she would ask Mairena who was going to receive her lunch or dinner, and then rush to the spies’ passage just before it was served. Those were always warm moments, and often Mairena herself would bring the food and speak the words Meluscia told her; but she would always draw out Meluscia’s name emphatically and then throw in a dash of praise. Meluscia didn’t mind. The joy and appreciation she saw on the servants’ faces was worth it all. She felt their love.