by BC Powell
Chapter 3
“What’s wrong?” I call out.
Sash doesn’t reply, make the slightest move, or even blink. As she continues to gawk at me, I look down at my body. Amber light is sparkling in the veins running from my shoulders to my hands. I drop my spear to the ground and raise my hands in front of my face. Golden light glistens from the skin of my palms and fingers.
I finally realize that I’ve been given the sign of fertility, basing that conclusion on Sash’s description of it to me long ago. Lowering my hands to my sides, I return my eyes to Sash. Like liquid amber is being injected into her body, luminescent gold spreads through the veins of her face, neck, and arms. I expect to see confusion or surprise on her face when she looks down at her body since she told me that Hunters are never chosen for the Ritual of Balance. Instead, she just smiles and walks up the slope of the Empty Hill.
“We’ve been chosen for the Ritual of Balance,” she says, stopping in front of me.
“I didn’t realize it would happen so soon,” I reply.
“What do you mean?”
“I knew we’d be chosen,” I say.
She nods her head, probably figuring out that the only way I could know is from my Vision of the Future. “I did too,” she confesses.
“How?” I ask.
“During your Ritual of Purpose, I had a glimpse of the future. It was of our child.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You know how I feel about revealing the future to others. I never want you to feel as though you’re obligated to be with me because of something I’ve seen in the future. I want you to be with me because you want to.”
“That is why I’m with you,” I say. “What do we do now?”
“Are you happy?” she asks with genuine concern in her voice.
“I’m thrilled,” I answer. “I mean, I kind of wish we had more time alone together before starting a family, but I couldn’t be happier.”
I wrap my arms around her.
“A family,” she whispers.
My head spins with exhilaration. I knew this day would arrive at some point, but I thought it would happen in a year or two, maybe even farther down the road. I’ve only been permanently in Krymzyn for four months. As deep as our emotional connection is, in many ways, Sash and I are still learning about one another and adjusting to our lives together.
Leaning my head back, I look at her eyes. “Sash, I want us to raise our child. I saw it, all of us together when they’re . . . I mean she . . . Dammit! I’m trying not to give away my—”
Sash covers my mouth with her hand. “In my glimpse, I saw her as well. I know our child will be a girl. But we have to accept what the future holds for our child no matter what that might be.”
She pulls her hand away from my lips.
“You know how families are structured in my world,” I say.
“All that matters is that we do what’s best for the child. Krymzyn will want the same. We can talk about it later. Right now, we’ve been summoned for the Ritual.”
“What do we do?” I ask.
“We go to the Cavern of Grace,” she tells me. “Let’s leave our things in our habitat and we’ll go together. We learn the steps when we’re mature enough, usually about the time we leave Home. The man and woman meet inside the Cavern, but our circumstances are obviously different. Since you don’t know the procedure, I’ll tell you what to do once we’re there.”
After gathering our things from the grass, we speed to our habitat. With our veins still shimmering amber, we quickly drop off our spears and the packs of stakes. Gliding over the hills to the south, we pass the Tree of Vision and the Storytelling meadow. We finally stop at one of the last hills before a mile-long field that runs to the southern wall of the Delta.
Sash leads me inside a narrow gully that’s so uniform it seems almost carved in the incline of the hill. Rich crimson grass grows on both sides of the tall corridor. At the end of the gully, we reach a sheer wall of rock in the base of a steep hill. An arched marble door stands in the center of the wall. The veins that run through the black marble glow with the same golden light that’s emanating from our skin.
“The door only shows light,” Sash says to me, “when two people have been summoned for the Ritual. Only those with the sign have the ability to open the door to the Cavern of Grace. The woman usually enters first and waits for the man. The door leaves the light of her handprint on the surface to let the man know she’s inside. We’ll go together since you don’t know what to do.”
We step towards the door, but I don’t see a knob or handle to open it. Sash presses the palm of one hand against the surface, so I do the same. Yellow light flares around our hands, gradually recedes, and the slab swings inward. After we pass through the opening, the door closes behind us with a loud thud.
As we walk through a narrow tunnel, the radiant amber from our veins reflects in the smooth, dark walls. We soon reach a small, high-ceiling cavern shaped out of glossy black stone.
Falling from the domed ceiling, flakes of colored light float down through the air. Like a gentle snowfall of every color imaginable, the points meander to the ground. The flakes end their descent with a gentle splash in a shallow pool of water that covers the ground. A myriad of color reflects in the circular walls of the cavern around us.
In the center of the cavern, seven thick vines hang from the highest point of the ceiling, each of them vibrant with a different color of the rainbow. Intertwined with one another, they form a single massive pillar roughly the size of a sturdy tree trunk. With her face bathed in multi-colored light, Sash turns to me.
“The Vines of Life,” she says. “We need to take off our clothing.”
We both lift our shirts over our heads and slip our pants down our legs. After laying our clothing on the tops of two granite slabs that reside on either side of the Cavern entrance, we step inside.
“Wait here,” Sash says quietly.
She walks through a nebula of swirling color. With each step she takes, ripples glimmering with brilliant reflections spread outward in the shallow water around her feet. When she reaches the Vines, she kneels in front of them, rests her hands on their base, and bows her head.
“Kneel behind me,” she says, her voice echoing inside the cave.
I walk through the inch-deep water while the sparks of light in the air prickle against my skin. When each twinkling flake touches me, it sends pulses of pleasure through my nerves. After stopping behind Sash, I get down on my knees behind her. Resting on all fours, Sash extends her backside to me. I slowly run my hands over the curves of her hips.
“You’re not allowed to touch me with your hands,” she says. “Keep them at your sides and press your midsection against me.”
Lowering my hands as she instructed, I lean my stomach against the firm curve of her rear. She reaches one hand between her legs and softly caresses me. Her fingertips feel as though they’re reaching through my skin and deep inside my body. Once I’m fully erect, she takes me in a gentle grip and guides me into her warmth.
“Slowly move inside me,” she says, returning her hand to the ground, “and then remain still.”
A tranquil smile comes to my face as I slide inside her wetness. Once I’m as deep as I can go, I remain perfectly still. For the first few moments, I feel calm and relaxed. But out of nowhere, a sudden jolt hits me that literally lifts my knees off the ground.
Like being electrocuted by a power line that falls in a swimming pool, thousands of volts surge through me. With my muscles clenching out of my control, my body convulses until I realize that I’ve been forced to climax inside Sash. Excruciating pain swells in the center of my stomach and shoots outward through my extremities. I slam my hands to my gut and collapse on my side. Squirming in the shallow water, I try to focus my eyes.
“Sash!” I wail.
Oblivious to me, she bows her head to the Vines, whispers a few inaudible words, and stands to her feet. With a somber ex
pression on her face, she looks down at me. The amber light in her veins slowly fades away.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she says. “The pain will soon pass. I’ll wait for you in our habitat.”
Chapter 4
Sash stares at me for several seconds and then walks to the cavern entrance. I can’t even call out to her while I writhe on the ground. Each time I think the pain is about to recede, another wave of misery burns through me. I’m not sure how much time passes—maybe an hour, maybe a little less—but it seems like much more. I spend every second of it tucked in a ball with intense pain needling through my body.
When the agony finally recedes, I’m exhausted, cramped, and sore. Hopeful that this warped Krymzyn experience is behind me, I hesitantly stand to my feet. As I limp through the water to my clothes, my leg muscles feel like they’re tied in knots.
I learned early in my visits to Krymzyn that casual sex between people doesn’t happen in the Delta. The innate desire doesn’t even seem to exist here. With the most extreme Pavlovian response I can imagine just programmed inside me, if a man is chosen for the Ritual of Balance, I now understand the negative reinforcement that’s forever embedded in his mind.
After dressing as rapidly as I can, I exit through the dark tunnel. The door at the end of the passage swings open for me on its own. Since the granite slab is now absent of light, I look down at my arms. The amber that glittered in my veins an hour ago has entirely left my body.
Once I step out to the grass-lined gully, the door behind me slams itself shut. Feeling aches in every muscle, I jog out of the gorge. It takes me a few tries to merge with the light, but I eventually jolt into the beams.
When I reach our habitat, Sash is already lying on her back in bed. She’s wearing shorts and a tank top with the bottom of her shirt lifted to just below the curves of her breasts. With both of her hands resting on her stomach, she gazes up at the Swirls in the crystal ceiling. I cross the cavern to the mattress and sit down by her side.
“How are you?” I ask.
“Our child grows inside me,” she answers, turning her head to me. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. In Krymzyn, the woman experiences pain at childbirth. The man feels pain at conception.”
“You could have warned me,” I say tongue-in-cheek.
She smiles at me and moves her hand from her stomach to my knee. “I didn’t want to scare you away. I prefer making love the way it’s done in your world.”
I return her smile. “I do, too. What happens now?”
“For the next seventy Darknesses, I do nothing but protect the child growing inside me. Then I give birth.”
“You won’t hunt during Darkness?”
“No,” she replies. “But I’ll spend time with the trees in my region each morrow to make sure they’re healthy.”
“Is that going to be hard on you?” I ask, knowing how much she thrives on fulfilling her purpose as a Hunter.
She returns her hand to her stomach. “What I feel doesn’t matter. My only purpose now is to care for the child.”
“What happens after the child is born?”
“I take care of the child until seventy more Darknesses pass. After that, the child will be called for the Naming Ritual.”
I hesitate before my next question, bracing myself for an unwanted response. “And after the Ritual?”
“The Keepers take the child,” she answers.
“Can we talk about that?”
Her face instantly hardens. “I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t think you want to hear my response.”
“I can’t imagine us not raising our child,” I tell her. “Love and nurture start with the parents.”
“Do you believe the only way a child should be raised is by its mother and father?”
“Yes,” I answer. “I mean, not really. It could be two men, two women, or even a single person. It doesn’t matter as long as they love the child. They’re still a family.”
“In this world, everyone in the grace of Krymzyn is what you think of as family.”
“It’s not the same,” I argue. “It’s much more personal in my world.”
Sash closes her eyes for a moment. When she reopens them, the amber orbs swirl with turmoil. She reaches a hand to my wrist, takes it in her grip, and lays my hand on her stomach.
“Please listen carefully,” she says. “Children are raised in Krymzyn the way they are for a reason. We’re all one, all responsible for each child, and the child is taught by all. Nurture comes from all of Krymzyn. That ensures that each child finds balance with everything around them.”
“It didn’t work out that way for Balt,” I counter.
“He’s an anomaly,” she replies. “On rare occasions throughout our history, a person can’t control their desire for sap and might end up in the Barrens. But it doesn’t happen often. There’s a purpose for Balt to be the way he is, even if we don’t understand it, just as there’s a reason for you to be in this world. The only thing that matters for our child is what’s best for her. Do you want her to feel different from the other children?”
“Of course not,” I say. “But I think the best thing for her is to be with us.”
“But you don’t know that,” she insists. “You only know how things are in your world. We discussed it once before. Parents in your world aren’t always nurturing to their children.”
I dig my fingertips into my palms. “You and I will be great parents. The Keepers can educate her the same way a child in my world goes to school. I can’t imagine coming back to our habitat at the end of the morrow and not having her with us.”
Sash shakes her head. “You only feel that way because that’s how things are in the world where you were raised. This is your world now. You made that choice freely. Even if it’s difficult for you, you have to accept the ways of Krymzyn.”
Unable to believe what I’m hearing, I look across the room and then back at Sash. “Are you saying that you want to just hand our daughter over to the Keepers?”
“I won’t fight Krymzyn on this, Chase,” she replies resolutely. “Don’t ask me to. I stood up for us dwelling together because I thought that was the best thing for both of us. But I don’t believe the ways of your world are the best thing for a child born in Krymzyn.
“Eval told me,” she continues, “that our daughter was in her Vision of the Future. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I will. She said that our child will know I’m the woman who gave birth to her. Our daughter had blue eyes in my glimpse of her, so I’m sure she’ll know that you’re her father.
“I know it’s difficult for you to understand, but the way a child is raised in Krymzyn is for the good of the whole. Knowing what we’ve both been through in our lives, would you want her to feel different from the other children because of how you want her to be raised?”
“No,” I say. “But I don’t think this will make her feel different.”
Sash snaps upright in bed. “Think about it. How could it not make her feel different?”
While weighing Sash’s words, I don’t reply. Although there’s a certain amount of truth to her logic, I can’t help the way I feel. The last thing I want is for our child to be viewed as different, but I also can’t imagine watching her grow up from a distance.
“Please don’t ask me to defy Krymzyn on this,” Sash implores to my silence. “We have to accept whatever Krymzyn wants for our child. If the ways of Krymzyn aren’t the best thing for her, then we’ll be shown that. Unless we are, the only thing we should care about is what’s best for her.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I decide to tell Sash what I saw in my Vision of the Future. “I saw us all together in my Vision. I saw you and me with our children. The four of us were playing together on the Tall Hill. They were older, up to our waists, and we were all happy.”
“Children?” she asks with mild confusion.
“We’re going to have a son as well,” I say.
“No one is ever chose
n for the Ritual of Balance twice,” she reminds me.
“We will be.”
“That was in your Vision of the Future?”
“Yes,” I answer. “I saw us all together as a family. That was my Vision.”
Sash peers into my eyes for a few seconds before speaking. “But you didn’t see the path that will lead us to that Vision.”
“Then what do I do?” I ask, trying to keep my temper in check. “Just stand aside and let our daughter be taken away from us?”
“She’ll never be very far from us,” she replies. “We’ll find ways to spend time with her as a family, but she should be raised in the same way that other children in Krymzyn are.”
With a growing sense of despondency and needing some time to think, I stand up from the bed. “I want to clean up and have some sap. I’ll be right back.”
I step to the table and gulp down several cups of sap. Trying to keep a combination of hurt and anger under control, I undress and walk to the waterfall. While standing under the water, for the first time since being in this world, I have doubts about my ability to accept the ways of Krymzyn. It might be a selfish reaction, but I believe with all my heart that we should raise our daughter. Even harder for me to accept is that, also for the first time, Sash doesn’t seem to have my back.
After I finish cleaning off, I slip on my shorts and return to bed. Sash is lying on her back with her hands perched on her stomach. I lie down on the bed beside her and look up at the Swirls. I decide that I don’t want to push Sash on the subject right now, but as far as I’m concerned, this conversation is far from over.
“I just want you to know how I feel,” I say. “I won’t ask you to do anything that you don’t think is right. All I want is what’s best for our child.”
“She’ll know we’re her parents,” she replies. “We’ll be in her life and spend time with her. We’ve both seen that, so we’ll find ways to make sure it happens.”
