Beyond the Dark Gate

by R. V. Johnson

  The second target, a beast, resisted the compulsion for two discordant beats of its cold-blooded heart. Interestingly, as the One Mind erased all self-aware thoughts, there was a touch of darkness compelling it from underground. The hold the darkness had on it was tenuous; the One Mind severed it with ease.

  Viewing the planet through lime-colored vision took several seconds of adjustment as it sought a place of height. From there it settled in to wait. The radiance its alien intellect knew as the galaxy focus—most of the planet’s denizens thought of as the sun and the baser intellects considered it simply as heat above—was moving at a steady rate toward it. The beast exulted in the feeling of warmth, and the Over Mind gained a tiny boost from the primitive, though strong, neural activity.

  Benefitting from the simple act of basking in the heat, Cord drank hungrily on the brain waves though it halted from ever coming close to fully sated. Drawing too much would make the host a useless husk. As it waited, one of the many facets of the Over Mind—the human formerly known as Cord—alerted it to a beacon in the stone fortress above the main host.

  Though dimmer, another bright spot gathered there with the tool—the one human it had left intact for implementing the notion of using humans as feelers for neural power. The presence of the brightness sent confusion through the Over Mind and into the One Mind. Compelled from the initial meeting when the human had sought it out in the cocoon long ago, the tool had no alternative but to report exceptional neural waves to the community intellect, yet no record existed.

  A small concern to the One Mind. Once finished with the beast and the instinctual life form, it would gather its superior intellect back to the present host and then consume the brightness. The tool too, as it had little use left for it now that it had awakened fully.

  The One Mind, Cord, was pleased. Soon it would absorb two-and-a-half complex intelligences that did not contact the river of power in any substantial way in a single day, a rare occurrence.

  Shifting its awareness back to the swarm of its vessels moving about the planet, it tracked the progress of the two bright spots, one of which had awoken it. That one was the brightest, nearly a hundred times superior to the others, and strong. As great a mind as it had ever discovered on any world. Absorbing it would ensure this world’s total domination.

  At present, the other spot generated increased emotional neural activity, and it was moving close.

  At the same time, halfway across the land, the great mind neared an encounter with the dark offspring. After the flicker went for it, Cord, the One Mind, would then overtake the Dark One and the mind it held.

  Each strike would occur close to the same moment, though at different places on the planet, not a difficult endeavor for the power of the One Mind.

  The One Mind shifted to the Over Mind which settled back to the wait. As the Over Mind waited, it released awareness to the main host.

  Cord recognized the ramp the main host had used with the rest of the patrol to access the caverns below the Dark Citadel. That patrol now marched toward the Black Gate with the ingrots—a slightly lower level of life form than humans—though the underground dwellers would not believe so.

  Once at the gate, control of the underground fortress would swell as it absorbed the humans guarding the main entrance, a holdover left behind by the Ancients. The Over Mind’s vast, timeworn memories recalled the Ancients as a large group of powerful Users who had inhabited the world at the time of arrival.

  No great neural bounty awaited the Over Mind back then; most Users had encountered the great darkness dwelling under the Dark Citadel and had succumbed to its control. Though the flickering darkness was a colossal energy source, the One Mind avoided it by staying hidden in the shadows while the redundant mind in the southern hemisphere stored and developed contingency intellect. There it waited, gathering strength in its best offspring before taking on such power, if ever. The darkness had a strong, though corrupted, connection to the river of energy.

  For now, Cord was careful not to permit the limited controlled User minds access to the great river or to go near the great darkness and possibly lose what it had gained.

  Though it had absorbed many of the two-legged denizens into the Over Mind—the bulk not long ago, additions from its offspring while it slumbered—the One Mind’s supreme intelligence knew surprise at the lobe adaptation of the species. Humans’ thought processes and memory storages had infinitesimal variations.

  A shudder of excitement rippled throughout the One Mind. This one, which had thought of itself as Cord, had a strong ability the host had not known existed. The One Mind could see the great potential controlling it had provided. The discovery of the ability had come from an extraneous, but fortuitous, event.

  A contacting—as the host mind thought of it—had occurred between two Light Users. The host’s ability had intercepted the contacting on instinct, perhaps triggered when the brain lost the ability to function on its own. Had the One Mind been aware of its host’s ability, it may have attempted to absorb the minds of those performing the contact.

  As it was, the Over Mind knew satisfaction. The human with white hair had made contact only for a short time, but it was enough and attracted the One Mind the same way as the dark creature—a flicker, the hominids referred to it—was attracted to the light ray essence inside and around humans, the soul.

  The mind the Light User contacted was far different from any other the Over Mind had experienced in its long past. The mind was a strong, but it was a mind in turmoil. A power resided there like no other on this alien, power-infused world.

  The mind that had awakened it was there also, the bright beacon beckoning strong. This one mind the One Mind now desired above all others, for it too, had a latent ability. Combined with the Cord host ability, the new host would know no end to the dissension it would reap from this primitive planet.

  No longer would the restriction of not allowing the minds it controlled access to the river of power have relevance, for it did not need to control them all, not at first. The One Mind only had to govern the leaders; the rest would follow those it placed in command.

  With the bright mind’s ability, Cord would know if the species were a User before absorption. Consuming the humans holding authority without the ability to access the river would allow use of the Users with their abilities intact.

  After absorption of the bright mind, whenever another contacting occurred between two of the world’s denizens, the One Mind and its new host’s innate alarm would trigger. Cord would then choose to listen in or destroy the minds contacting. The desire for the bright mind rose.

  Excitement rippled through all the minds in the Over Mind within the One Mind. The long conditional search for the exact neurological and environmental makeup central to the long-range stratagem was now a possible outcome.

  The Over Mind had done well consuming Cord as a start to fulfilling the great desire, but the host had a mate and offspring. Perhaps, as a precaution, the One Mind would assimilate them all to add to the cloak of normalcy providing the host body held up.

  The One Mind continued up the ramp the host had originally ran toward, working out the stiffness of its motor control as it went, smoothing the arduousness of controlled muscles. Moving without complete fluidity would draw unwanted attention. Soon it would shift back to its lime-colored vision, bask in the heat from above, and spring the trap.

  DARK SHAPE

  To Jade, the forest seemed like a protective friend. The cloudless sky above and the open spaces between the trees permitted anyone or anything to see them. Someone or something spotting them now would mean another attack. How long could they go on before a dark-armored soldier crept close enough to hurl a spear through the magic-resistant dome?

  As they fled from the Vale, they’d kept a constant vigil on the dome; hand in hand, she’d supplied Crystalyn with energy, dribbling the Flow through her palm. Filtered through Jade first was the only way they’d found her
sister could use the Flow in small bits, like the perfect spice on the meat of her symbols.

  A shudder racked Jade. From the fatigue of doling out the Flow to Crystalyn for several bells or scrambling with all the stealth they could muster while attempting to circle through a dense forest, she knew not which. Nor did she care; she was too tired think about it.

  Atoi came into view racing down the steep incline they’d only recently made their way down. “Incoming!” the little girl shouted, bursting into the absorption symbol Crystalyn kept tented around them as they walked. The beautiful interlocked white crosses on the black background kept them sheltered from User magic attacks, but it had the downside of standing out, the black-and-white translucence unnatural in a forest.

  Hastel dived inside the dome’s protection as fireballs exploded ahead and to the right of them. Pushing to his feet, he matched their slow pace, staring at the barrage for a time. “They’re fishing!” he declared, daubing the wicked scar running from his forehead to his cheek.

  Jade noted that in times of stress, it tended to break open again. When they got out of this, she was going to pry it out of him or his aura how he got a scar. Perhaps then, he would let Crystalyn heal it. So far, Jade hadn’t read the images twisting around him as she had those spinning around Atoi. Dark and cloudy, Atoi’s aura wouldn’t slow for a viewing, even using all her willpower. Jade hadn’t tried the arrowhead amulet and the white crystal candle artifacts on the little girl yet. Perhaps they would give her the boost required.

  Hastel was so touchy about healing every time her sister had offered. Why wouldn’t he want it mended?

  Crystalyn’s dark blue eyes regarded the one-eyed man with her customary sharpness. “What do you mean?”

  Hastel’s smile was grim. “They’re throwing out a blanket net of explosions hoping we’ll break cover or get caught in the fallout. Look, they’re already moving away, bombarding as they go.”

  Jade concentrated on the explosions. “He’s right, if we stay away from that area, we should be able to swing around the ridge ahead while staying out of sight under those ferns and… whatever those are,” she said, giving a quick gesture toward a hedge of branches. Thick and twisting, the tree-like limbs entwined a foot or two above Crystalyn’s six-foot height.

  “Rubble brush,” Hastel offered. “I suppose you mean those root-like branches wrapped around rocks below and to the right of us?”

  “I do,” Jade said.

  “Try and angle that way; they will make good cover,” Hastel said. “As I was saying, the Dark Users don’t know our exact location in this thicket. We could follow the fireballs back to the Vale as long as a fire doesn’t force us to put it out again with your rainstorm symbol. Those take serious energy, don’t they? If you throw anything larger than that last one out there, we run the risk of catching ourselves in a flash flood.”

  Though she kept her eyes on the brush- and boulder-strewn route ahead, Crystalyn had heard Hastel. “Is it safe to drop the absorption symbol?” she asked.

  Hastel nodded. “For now, but stay close to each other, it’s possible they want us to think we’ve lost them.”

  Jade gratefully released the link she kept with the Flow. Weakness flowed through her limbs, and she stumbled, gripping Crystalyn for support.

  Crystalyn stumbled with her, though Broth supported her under one arm. The warden’s powerful front haunches held their combined weight easily.

  Atoi’s wide, emerald eyes gazed up the mountain. “Methinks little sister is correct, we should go around the ridge by going through the brush. As thick as it is, we would discourage any stragglers.”

  The closer they came, the more overgrown the hedge wall looked, and Jade was already regretting mentioning it.

  Crystalyn strode up to it and stopped, considering. “Okay,” she finally said. “Everyone down on their knees, let’s lead our pursuit into the thickets if they’re still tracking us. I’m almost beginning to believe the whole battle at the Vale was bait to bring us running to the rescue. They’ve been relentless with hounding us. If that is the case, it has worked for them.”

  Hastel dropped to his hands and feet. “You might be onto something there, but I’m not going to go ask them right now. Follow me as quiet as you can.” He crawled into the twisted gnarls of the rubble brush before him and was soon out of sight.

  Atoi’s small frame disappeared behind him without a backward glance.

  Jade curbed a sigh. Crawling was physically demanding to their overtaxed bodies, but it was their best chance at escape. She would find the energy somewhere. Dropping to all fours, she crept into the brambles.

  At first, it was as tough as she feared, and the thorn-like dry sticks caught at her clothes. Breaking free meant flinging the sharp sticks snapping through the countryside with loud cracking noises—sound traveled so far in the forest. Jade cringed each time it happened.

  After a while, she learned to bend them out of the way or crawl around thicker clumps when possible, though it lengthened the route. The wrist-thick brush entwined anything in its path, gripping small and large boulders in its wooden grasp, even digging some from loose dirt.

  Her white flame hammer kept catching on forked branches, and she’d have to stop and pry it free. Several times, she had the wild urge to use it to smash through a thicket wall instead of going around, but it would make a world-deafening sound, louder than a round boulder rolling down a hill and crashing through dry timber.

  Broth pushed past Hastel, taking the lead. Following him, their pace picked up notably. Already moving on all fours, the warden’s cat body was suited to the terrain. Even so, it was grueling work.

  Exhausted, Jade laughed with quiet glee when they broke into a gloomy branch-covered clearing hours later. Broth had led them to a small, sunken dell inside the thicket jungle.

  Atoi and Hastel sat together at the opening. Even they were not immune to the horrid trek, and both looked ragged. Dried leaves and twigs had tangled in their hair and neither one made any move to rake them clear. Broth sat on his haunches in the center, as placid as usual, though his great jaws were open, expelling heat.

  Jade lay onto her stomach beside them, ecstatic to stretch to her full height without moving. Moving her legs straight felt glorious! Crystalyn plopped beside her, sitting and extending her legs too, a grateful smile lining her tired dust-streaked face.

  Jade glanced around their little grotto. The clearing funneled toward a dark overgrown tunnel of jumbled deadfall that nearly roofed the farthest side. Beyond it, the forest thinned. Patches of grassland glinted with golden sunrays. Good, she thought. I’m getting tired of scrambling around like a kind of forest crab.

  For some reason, Jade disliked the looks of the tunnel, finding it odd simply by the fact of what it was; no drainage had ever flowed through the snarls to create it. So how had it gotten there?

  What did it matter? Jade asked herself. Forests had a way of piling deadfall in reason-defying stacks. She must be tired. At least there was an easy way out to an easier hike.

  Crystalyn shifted next to her, rustling dried leaves and grass. “As long as we’re taking a break, I would like some water.”

  Her sister’s gentle admonishment reminded Jade of her own dry throat. Lifting the flask of water off her shoulders and over her head by the strap, Jade pulled the stopper from the leatherneck, handing it to Crystalyn first.

  Leaning back, Crystalyn squirted a half cup down her throat. Broth padded in front of her, and she squirted a stream into his wolf-like jaws and then passed the flask to Atoi. After the little girl drank, Jade watched Hastel gulp several swallows before he handed it back to her.

  Though she was tired and low on energy, Jade drew upon her ability and slowed the rotation of his aura spinning around him in a cyclone. Like Crystalyn, his aura was dark. Unlike hers, Hastel’s took a great deal of her willpower to halt it enough to view the images rotating inside.

  After a few moments, she ma
de out definite images though the rotation tugged at her mind as a horse would with an unwanted tether. Jade gathered her will and forced it slower. The images sprang into clarity.

  In one, a stooped white-haired woman with glowing eyes held a leaf outstretched. The second started to the forefront. A bloodstained axe, facing another dripping with blood, spun into view. The third held several shapes, but she couldn’t hold it. With a sharp wrench, his aura spun away, whipping around him faster and faster, blurring to cyclone speed.

  Jade let it go, dropping the inner sight; she had no strength for a second attempt. Hastel stared at her, his one blue eye narrow. Jade considered him, wondering about the old woman. He looked away.

  Jade understood the axes. Hastel carried a pair, one on each hip, but the woman’s offering meant something. However, she had no notion what it was without asking him. Someday she’d broach the subject, even though the taciturn warrior had not confided in anyone of his past.

  Raising the leather bottle to her mouth, Jade found it nearly empty. Suppressing a sigh, she finished the last of it with two mouthfuls, just enough to wash the grit down. They’d have to find water soon. Standing, she stretched and worked the kinks from her back. The tunnel called to her with a small sound, nearly enough to make her drool. Somewhere beyond, water trickled.

  Leaving the others where they sat or lay, Jade went to the tunnel, pausing to verify what she first thought. Besides the way they crawled in, the tunnel was the only exit. The rubble brush thickets were native to Astura. At the heart, its root-like branches entwined with everything nearby, living or not, if one stayed too long around it. The brush created a barrier dense enough a rodent would struggle to get through in some spots, yet here the rubble had left the odd escape route. Jade wasn’t going to complain. They couldn’t stay. Already she felt the tiny vibrations of the brush moving.

  Jade only had to bend at the waist, making it faster and easier than a crawl, though the shadows inside the tunnel darkened deeply. Something sticky and stretched taut touched her face, causing her to cringe. Thrusting her arms in front of her at a defensive angle, she kept the cobwebs away as best she could, hating when her mind conjured the image of something black and writhing dropping on her hands and racing toward her each time a filament stuck.