Beyond the Dark Gate

by R. V. Johnson

  Crystalyn’s hand came to rest on the bag belted to her hip she’d brought for the expressed purpose of carrying the black crystal candle. Did artifacts like it owe their existence to the same technology? Whatever the answer, the bag matched her light kell leather shirt and pants Lore Rayna had brought her earlier, a gift from Long Sand. She liked them.

  Sabella stepped in front of her. Her low-cut dress revealed much of her large bosom as she inhaled and exhaled deeply, as if she’d run for some distance. The tavern keeper put her brown-skinned hands on her slender hips. “Without the hooded man’s marker, the guards will not let you pass through. Each of your people is required to have one, but there is not that many markers in existence. Why are we here?”

  Crystalyn glanced over her shoulder. The six ordered rows of Valens, Shimmering Sands nomads, and Red Rock warriors stretched beyond the stoic, stern-faced statues of the coliseum’s courtyard. Each grouping had a good contingent of Users and archers, but the bulk was warriors.

  Though she had chafed at the delay, Crystalyn had to admit waiting for the Valens made an impressive display of force when joined with the others. She hoped they were enough. According to Lore Rayna, they were going to need as many as she could get to follow her. Her focus shifted back to the immediate task. “You know a lot about the hooded man. Why is that?”

  Sabella blinked. Dropping her hands to her side, her gray eyes glinted with a hint of steel. Her hard gaze flicked to the troops lined up behind Crystalyn and then back again. “Anyone in these parts with even an inkling of sense knows the hooded one controls this side of the topaz gate. The Dark One has made no pretenses with it. You would do well to learn this quickly. Do you not see the futility of such a foolish notion as taking the ascension gate by force?’

  ‘As your warriors overpower the twelve guards, the contactors hidden within the room and spread about the bystanders shall raise the alarm. The city watch will respond long before your people have made it through. Now, I have done as you asked and brought you here. I must return to the tavern. Without me watching, the girls sit and drink or sleep. Two of them have favorites they wish to net and give away free samples. Such actions degrade the business.”

  “Is that wise to let her go, mistress?” Hastel asked.

  Crystalyn gave a look to her one-eyed companion she hoped would silence any further questions. Putting her hands on her hips, she formed a symbol in her mind, a long-lined pattern with 180-degree curves on each end. One she hadn’t yet tried. She’d only just read it in tier three of the Tiered Tome of Symbols two nights ago as they waited for the Valens’ arrival. The pattern brought to mind hemp. “I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere but with me, dear. We cannot run the risk of having you contact the gate’s present caretaker.”

  Sabella looked around, her eyes narrowing. Lifting her left hand, she motioned toward the six rows of people lined behind soldiers stationed at the podiums a modest distance away from the topaz gate. “What is this? You accept my help and then think to detain me? You dare, here in this place of innocent patrons?” Her right palm arose level with the floor.

  Two armed and plate-armored soldiers stood, perusing the lines and the people milling around near the walls, behind each of the carved wood podiums. Four others stood in pairs on each side of the great gate.

  Crystalyn smiled her sweetest. “Then using the Flow is not a good idea, is it tavern keeper? Yes, I know you can, I’ve seen the flecks in your eyes. Even if you managed to fight past me, you wouldn’t get far. In case you hadn’t noticed, my people are fiercely loyal.”

  Sabella moved carefully backward, her eyes darting back and forth from front to back. “In case you have not heard, my lady, my people need me at the tavern. You cannot stop me.” Sabella held her left palm level with the floor, starting to draw upon the Flow.

  Bringing out her symbol and releasing it, Crystalyn restrained her rising anger, anger at herself. Had she reasoned it out, she might have known Sabella would fight. Those whose arrogance makes them believe they have substantial power—merited or not—nearly always chose battle over negotiation.

  Unraveling, like a kite tail that grew longer as the masthead shrank, the symbol flew at the woman. Glowing with a deep green, it wrapped around Sabella’s shoulders, winding around her as a black cone detached from the tavern mistress’ left hand.

  A blunt force slammed into Crystalyn.

  Knocked from her feet, the cobblestone flooring jarred Crystalyn’s right side as a heavy weight of soft brown fur pressed down upon her right.

  Broth’s paws scraped cobblestone as he twisted upright, clawing for purchase. Regaining his natural four-footed stance, he lowered his head, his hourglass eyes glowing with a light red, a certain sign of distress. “Do’brieni! Have I injured you?”

  “No, dear one, again you have kept me out of harm’s way.”

  Ignoring the burning abrasion making its painful presence known on her lower cheek, Crystalyn pushed off the floor and climbed to her feet, glancing at the shocked faces of those lined up behind. One of the desert nomads was down. Crystalyn nodded for Long Sand to attend him.

  “Shall we terminate her?” Hastel asked. He’d pulled the crossbow, still attached to his back sling, around to the front of his waist.

  With eyes large, round, and shiny, Atoi stood to one side of Sabella, her jeweled dagger pressed against the tavern keeper’s bare thigh below the high hemline of her short black dress. “Allow me to scratch her, one tiny nick shall do,” the little girl said, the tone of her voice a soft caress.

  Crystalyn’s rope symbol had dissolved when Broth had jumped on her. Bringing it out once more, she sent it wrapping around the woman again, pulling her arms tight to her sides.

  Lore Rayna came near. Stooping, the big woman dabbed at Crystalyn’s cheek with a soft cloth, kell from the feel of it. Pushing Lore Rayna’s arms gently away, Crystalyn strode beyond the big woman’s ministrations, her eyes locked with the tavern keeper. A trace of worry furrowed the woman’s fine brow, vanishing as Crystalyn moved near. “Such a foolish move from one facing so many. Have you grown desperate? What are you protecting?”

  Again, a look of concern, or fear perhaps, flashed through Sabella’s eyes as she spoke. “I cannot go with you. Only death awaits me beyond the topaz gate.”

  “Your death awaits you here and now, in front of all these people,” Crystalyn said, waving her hand expansively about the wide room.

  A hushed stillness had fallen upon it. The armed and unarmed soldiers, the poorly and richly dressed patrons, Crystalyn’s oath-bound people behind her, all stood silent. Even her familiar companions, Broth, Lore Rayna, Hastel, and Atoi, listened to her every word as if caught in uncontrollable reverence.

  Crystalyn had refused to consider this before—no one could ever worship her. She was unstable, her mind broken beyond repair, and unworthy of adoration, but the silence of the room was unmistakable.

  Her people waited for her to take action, they trusted she’d do the right thing, make the good call. “Hastel’s crossbow bolt sinking into your breast will mercifully end the slow agonizing death of Atoi’s dagger. Answer me, or I won’t give him the order to shoot when I let Atoi slice into you. Her dagger hungers for flesh. You know this.”

  Atoi pressed the flat of her dagger into the woman’s thigh, smiling up at her.

  Sabella’s tanned skin paled slightly, though her features remained smooth. “You would not do such a thing because of the people, not with witnesses.”

  “Try me. What do I care? Most of these people likely know who you are. They watched you attack and injure one of my people. Killing you is justified and you know it.”

  Sabella’s eyes widened. Then, her gaze a mixture of haughtiness tinged with uncertainty, she scanned the entire room. No one looked away. She lowered her head, her eyes downcast. “Ask what you will,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Crystalyn moved closer. Slipping her hand under the woman’s unyielding ch
in, she lifted firmly. Expecting higher resistance, Sabella’s head snapped upward more roughly than she intended. “Good girl. You’ll provide complete and truthful answers when I ask for them.”

  “I have one,” Atoi said.

  Broth’s warm familiar thoughts flowed through Crystalyn’s own. “I believe the Ancient young one has an inquiry about the outlander.”

  “As do I,” she sent into the link. Though Atoi had mentioned the outlander had crossed through the gateway, she’d claimed no knowledge of anything more, which Crystalyn hadn’t really believed. “Ask away,” she said aloud, keeping the tone of her voice neutral. What question the little girl spouted would reveal much.

  Atoi spoke without hesitation. “Have you lain with the hooded one as you have the outlander?”

  Crystalyn kept her face smooth with difficulty. Not a question she’d expected.

  Sabella’s chin rose, her eyes ablaze. “Such a question would befit someone older. How old are you really?”

  “You ask a question to my question. Decease and respond,” Atoi said sweetly, though her green eyes narrowed.

  “Answer mine and I shall determine if your improper inquiry shall receive an answer!” Sabella sneered.

  “Enough!” Crystalyn boomed. Beyond the woman, two of the soldiers at the gateway drew swords.

  Crystalyn turned to Lore Rayna. “Bind her,” she snarled, her anger mounting for reasons she’d long ago given up on ever knowing.

  Gripping Sabella’s shoulder, Lore Rayna spun the woman forward, making her face the gate. “Remove your bindings, Sarra’esiah; I cannot put her hands behind her. If she has a desire to access the Flow, I will know. Such a move shall cost her dearly.”

  “I almost hope she does,” Crystalyn said, dissolving her symbol. “Stay with her, Rayna, and keep close, I don’t want her out of my sight.” Crystalyn turned her back on the woman, dismissing her. “Long Sand, is the injured one able to be brought forward?”

  Centered in a row of warriors ten wide, the nomad strode past her. “He claims no need of healing,” he said, nodding to a man at his left who wore a kell bandage soaked red with blood. He wore it proudly wrapped around his upper arm like a badge of honor.

  Perhaps it was. Crystalyn knew little about them. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “We go to clear the way through the ascension gateway,” he replied as if it was obvious.

  Perhaps it was. On Astura, who knew? Crystalyn sighed. “Don’t kill more than you have to,” she called after him, but the tall Shimmering Sands warrior strode on.

  Crystalyn looked to the mirror image of the tallest pair of obelisks she’d found on Astura so far. On the other side, two sister obelisks provided the entry to a place she’d once known love—the very place where she now intended to destroy that adoration from the man whose betrayal had nearly destroyed half the known world. Could she do it?

  She was about to find out.

  Gathering her resolve, she signaled the order to march.

  SOMEWHERE INSIDE

  Following its orders, Garn led most of his men to the east wing along with those that were controlled by it and those that followed it. Garn had to think of whatever manner of creature inhabited his daughter as an it; calling the thing Jade would rend him mad. Not being able to view it bothered him more than he would admit. How was he going to kill something he couldn’t see without harming his daughter?

  Leaving a token force at the topaz gate, they’d marched the length of the Citadel collecting soldiers and Dark Users as they went. His questions about where they were going had gone unanswered so far.

  Garn tried again. “You’ve gathered the bulk of the men left in the Citadel, several hundred. Not many for the size of this fortress, the Alchemist left a couple regiments to patrol the Vale. Tens of thousands assail Surbo. Has someone besieged the Citadel?”

  As they climbed the eastern stair tower, it was silent. When Garn started to believe no answer forthcoming, it spoke. “A regiment of those attacking Surbo was sent to forestall endeavors crafted seasons ago. The rest have been called back, though they shall not arrive until after. For the One Mind’s Citadel is under attack, in a way. No longer is the Great Shadow content to dwell in the caverns below; it has claimed a host and makes a gambit. The One Mind’s offspring allowed the host to pass through the Stair two days ago.”

  Garn was heartened to hear the attack on Surbo had ended; a lot of wartime innocents would’ve suffered. He was curious about the endeavors, but other thoughts occurred to him. “Why let the host move past then? Why not exterminate the threat there?” he asked.

  With his daughter’s round eyes, it looked at him then. They were no longer innocent. A calculating intelligence lurked there. Garn’s heart lurched in his chest.

  Thankfully, it looked away as it answered. “The Great Shadow will fail; the Over Mind shall grow stronger.”

  Garn had no idea what it meant, but he guessed who it spoke of. The Over Mind, the One Mind, used the two names for itself interchangeably, though he had no idea why it considered them separate parts. “You sound certain of the failure. How can you know? Nothing is certain with battle.” At the top of the tower, they turned west, following the wall. The courtyard behind the Dark Gate lay at his left ten stories below.

  They continued in silence. At the halfway point where the wall’s arch was the greatest, it spoke again, picking up the conversation as if there was no lapse. “Agree. Only the future is assured, the Great Shadow will fall,” it said.

  A thought struck Garn and he stopped. The creature who stole his daughter kept going, moving fluidly. Hurrying, he caught up as they came upon the grand stairway. “Wait! Are you saying you know what is coming?” he asked.

  It continued speaking conversationally. “Your offspring has a great mind, a unique ability. Such a one the One Mind has not encountered on countless worlds, nor has the Over Mind knowledge of it from those thoughts and memories consumed on other planets. On this one, your progeny is known as an anomaly, an inconsistency with something long foreordained by a long ago ancestor with a variant of this power. With your brood’s significant talent, the One Mind knows the need for twelve Dark Users there,” it said, pointing to one of the two house-sized gears used to open the gate. “They are to remain hidden. However, their focus has to lie with the One Mind and the protector throughout the battle.”

  “Why do the Users need to focus on us? Who are we fighting?” Garn asked quickly, glancing around. “I need to plan our defense.” He squashed the urge to sprint to the wall and look over.

  Clasping his daughter’s hands behind her back, it strode along the top of the grand staircase, halting partway past center. “The protector and the One Mind shall stand at this point, your sword at the forefront. Inform the twelve to install a barrier for repelling Flow-based assaults. They are to maintain a constant vigil. Position the soldiers on each side of the stairs. Prepare the archers and power Users to move to the edge overlooking the courtyard with a signal. The protector shall know when they should move forward and attack.”

  Garn was stunned. Such a strategy was one he would have staged for the courtyard. Yet whom were they fighting? And when?

  As if it read his mind, it continued speaking. “The Great Shadow is not far, you have less than half a bell, Protector. The commanders come forth for their orders. Make use of the foreknowledge the One Mind provides wisely.”

  Garn watched the generals lumber toward him, part of the Dark Regiment controlled by something so strong it had consumed worlds and the beings on them. Now the thing had the power to view the future stolen from someone quite precious to him. And worse, how would he ever destroy such a powerful creature if it knew what he would do beforehand?

  Garn stole a glance at his youngest daughter. He had to find a way. Though the thing had donned a black lacy gown cut too low and painted on black eye shadow with matching lip coating, it was his daughter’s body. Part of her had to be somewhere
inside; she had to be. He could believe nothing else.

  Only when he ceased to draw breath, would he give up on his child. Perhaps, not even then, if the Great Father allowed intervention from beyond.

  RELATIONSHIP

  A bolt of sizzling white light rent the wide hallway in front of Crystalyn the moment she materialized on the other side of the topaz gateway. The bolt struck two men as they fought with sword and scimitar, hurling them some distance through the air and dropping them to the granite flooring where they lay unmoving.

  Garbed in the black kell leather of the Red Rock clan, several bodies lay scattered in the great hall of the Dark Citadel; two others had the Shimmering Sands attire with the open front robes covering the brown kell underneath. Crystalyn hoped Long Sand wasn’t one of the two. As she moved from the gateway’s threshold, Broth loped beside her. Hastel and Atoi sprinted for one of the colossal roof support pillars many long yards from the gateway.

  Her worry for Long Sand diminished when the nomad leader slipped from behind a wide pillar to the right of the topaz gate and dashed to her. Gripping her arm, he pulled her to the hard stone floor behind a body and then lifted another on top it, grunting with the effort. Dropping prone next to her, he quickly quieted his rapid breaths. Battling the living and stacking the dead had to be exerting.

  Broth dropped to his long stomach next to her. “We are at a great disadvantage, Do’brieni. The enemy has the entire Citadel at its disposal while we are limited to four coming through safely at the same time.”

  A bolt of crimson lightning brought the gagging smell of burning flesh wafting past. Concussive booms heralded the screams of the dying.

  Fear permeated her link with Broth. No, not fright, but worry, anxiety that they gated into a deathtrap. Though hers or the warden’s, she couldn’t tell.

  Crystalyn shifted close to Long Sand, her lips brushing his ear. “Where are they? Why didn’t they burn us down as soon as we came through?” she whispered. His scent filled her nostrils, blessedly replacing other far less pleasant odors. Even with danger so near, his masculinity made her head reel.