A Traveler's Fate (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 3)

by BC Powell

  “Just a few from each camp,” the woman answers. “But only if they’re confident in our plan.”

  The man nods his head. “It’s a fair arrangement.”

  “You won’t regret your decision,” the woman says. “You and I will go speak with the others in the area. If the loners you mentioned give us any trouble, I’ll take care of them. The woman with me will remain here for a while to help with anything you need.”

  Sizing up the commander, the Murkovin scrutinizes her from head to toe.

  “She’s trustworthy,” the woman says, “and as skilled with a weapon as anyone you’ve ever met. I assure you of that.”

  “And what of you?” the man asks the woman.

  “I’ll come here from time to time. If you have any problems, tell me. I’ll resolve them. Can any of you blend your light?”

  “None in my clan,” he answers. “A young man who dwells nearby can.”

  “When we go see the others, make sure I know which one he is. We need to reach as many parts of the Barrens as possible.” The woman points her hand at the hilltop where the children are. “Call the others and have your fill of sap. Drink until you’re more satisfied than you’ve ever been.”

  The man yells to the rest of his clan to join him. The female commander takes out several cups from the back of the wagon and trots to the tree. From the spigot on one end of the sap transport, she fills the cups one by one.

  The woman watches the female Murkovin and three children climb down the slope. Thin and pale, the children are clothed in faded rags hastily sewn together. Their plight will soon change, the woman tells herself, and they’ll know she’s the reason why.

  I don’t like being away from my child for so many morrows at a time. But it will all be worth it soon enough.

  Like many of the other camps we’ve established, these people respect my boldness and trust my words. I bring them something they’ve never had—hope for a better future. And when that better life comes to fruition, their loyalty will belong to me.

  Chapter 13

  At the beginning of my morrow off, I say goodbye to Sash and take Aven to Home. Before I set my daughter on the ground, she reaches her arms around my neck and hugs me. Her thick, black hair has grown long enough that it hangs over her ears and past her neck in the back. As she presses her cheek against mine, a few strands tickle my face.

  “Wuv-u, Daddy,” she says.

  “I love you too,” I whisper in her ear. “Have a wonderful morrow.”

  After I lower Aven’s feet to the grass, Kyra takes her hand and guides her still wobbly, sometimes unsure gait into the caverns of Home. Part of me feels guilty for not spending the morrow with my daughter, but in the year that I’ve permanently been in Krymzyn, this the first time I’ve gone out to do something just for fun with anyone other than Sash or Aven. Even though I was a bit of a loner on Earth, hanging out with friends or family for a day at the beach or an evening movie was always important to me.

  When I arrive at the Delta entrance, I find Tela already waiting for me by the gate. I stop by the rack against the wall to grab a pair of soft, leathery boots and then walk to where she’s standing.

  “What took you so long?” she impatiently asks.

  “I had to take Aven to Home,” I answer.

  “You should have woken up earlier.”

  She tries to scowl at me but can’t stop a smile from coming to her lips.

  “Very funny,” I say. “Maybe you should have slept later.”

  “If I’d slept any later, the morrow would be gone,” she quips.

  Still smiling, she hands me a Traveler’s canister full of sap. After I hang it around my neck, we both slip our boots on our feet. Walking side by side, we exit the Delta through the high-arched gate and cross over the bridge.

  “We’ll go towards the Mount for a few miles before heading south,” Tela explains when we reach the road past the bridge. “We’ll never stay close to the river for very long. If we see Murkovin, we don’t want to get trapped in between them and the water.”

  “Like they could catch us,” I say.

  “I know,” she replies, “but it’s protocol for when we take children to the Infinite Expanse.”

  “Is this the same route we use to go to the Great Falls?”

  “Essentially,” she answers. “Remember landmarks along the way so you can use them to find your way in the future.”

  I’ve noticed that my memory has improved dramatically since being in Krymzyn, maybe a byproduct of living on nothing but sap, or maybe an enhancement Krymzyn made to my brain when I was brought here permanently. Although my memory hasn’t increased to the “instant recall from years ago” level that people born here have, I distinctly remember major hills or recognizable rock formations in any part of the Barrens I travel through. With an area two hundred times greater than the surface of Earth, it would be impossible to navigate the wasteland without the photographic imprints in my mind.

  “Lead the way,” I say.

  As she jogs up the road towards the Mount, she looks over her shoulder at me and smirks. “Try to keep up.”

  “Try not to break your legs,” I reply, laughing to myself.

  After we blast towards the Mount for a few miles, Tela cuts off the road to the south. Like a pair of fighter pilots locked in a high-speed aerial display, we fly over hills and streak through valleys. Cutting back and forth in front of one other, we blaze across the empty wasteland. Sometimes we sweep beside the river, sometimes we shoot deep into the Barrens, but we never maintain a predictable path.

  Drifting into a mesmeric state, I relax to the tingling sensation of blending my light. Shadowy hills, flashes of light from the crests of waves, and the blurred shapes of occasional trees pass by me. During my time here, I’ve grown accustomed to the luminous maze that fills my vision while traveling at unthinkable speeds. Other than briefly seeing Aven in her true form after she was born, and the one time in the Reflecting Pool with Sash, it’s the closest I ever come to seeing Krymzyn as it actually exists.

  Hours fall behind us as we speed through the Barrens. Interrupting my meditative calm, Tela suddenly rockets past my side. As she slows on her approach to a hill near the river, I trail close behind her. When I see her transition to a run, I slip my particles from the beams. After gliding to a stop on top of the hill, we both drink from our canisters.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “Two-thirds of the way to the Great Falls,” she answers and then points a hand at the rapids. “This is where we cross.”

  I glance at the river, thinking how amazing it is that we traveled roughly sixty-five thousand miles in half the morrow. The river where we are is only about a quarter of a mile wide. The rapids are huge and leap from the surface of the river around a rocky bridge. As I start to return my attention to Tela, I do a double-take to look at the bridge again.

  “We’re not going over that, are we?”

  “That’s the Stone Crossing,” she replies.

  The only way I can imagine the natural bridge could have been created is if hundreds of enormous boulders fell from the sky and randomly fit together in a way that just happened to form a gradual arch over the river. Nothing but pressure from the weight of the rocks pressed together seems to be holding them in place. The top surface is about ten feet wide and more or less smooth, but seams between the rocks can clearly be seen. The sides and bottom of the bridge are an irregular array of rough edges. My first impression is that it’s about as stable as a house of cards.

  “That thing will collapse if we step on it,” I say.

  “People have been using the Crossing for millions of Eras,” she tells me. “I doubt you and I will cause it to fall.”

  As soon as she finishes speaking, a towering wave swells from the rapids on the north side of the Crossing, pauses in the air, and then crashes down on the entire surface of the bridge. A booming clap echoes around us as the water splashes off the rocks.

  “You’re rig
ht,” I say. “We’ll just be swept down the river by a wave.”

  “Keep watching,” Tela replies, “and count in your head.”

  Seconds tick away in my mind while I study the rapids. When my count reaches sixty, another enormous wall of water soars into the air and plummets back down on the rocks.

  “Sixty,” I say.

  “That’s how long we have to get across.”

  “Is it always sixty?” I ask.

  “Always.”

  “Do we travel over?”

  “Never,” she says. “Too many reflections from the rapids and big waves shoot across the bridge. Your particles will be taken out over the water and may never return to your body. It’s a lot safer to run.”

  “That seems like a relative comparison,” I say.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

  “What I mean is, I’m pretty sure nothing about this is safe.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “After everything that’s happened to you in Krymzyn, this is what you don’t feel safe about?”

  “I guess you have a point,” I chuckle.

  We both sip from our canisters a few more times before returning them to our shoulders. As I follow Tela down the hill to the edge of the Stone Crossing, several more gigantic waves rise from the rapids and smother the rocks. I count between each of them, always ending at sixty.

  “We’ll go after the next one,” Tela says.

  With our spears locked in our hands, we crouch in what I think of as long-distance runners’ starting stances. I’m not concerned with how long it will take to sprint over the bridge. I could turn a quarter-mile on Earth in well under a minute, and my running speed is probably twice as fast in this world. But I’m a bit worried about my footing on the rocks since the top of the bridge is uneven and filled with cracks. My heart rate doubles by the time the next swell shoots up from the rapids and pounds down on the bridge.

  “Now!” Tela shouts as the leftover water from the wave spills over the sides of the Crossing.

  We both sprint forward and onto the bridge. Through the soft material of my boots, I feel the roughness of the stones as my feet slam against them. With Tela’s muscular legs propelling her over the rocks, she pulls ahead of me at the middle of the Crossing.

  As I race down the back half of the bridge, my foot slips in an uneven gap between rocks. I stumble towards the side of the bridge and throw my arms out to keep my balance. Ravenous rapids churn below me while I tightrope along the edge of the Crossing. Trying to keep enough speed to make it across before the next wave, I veer towards the center of the bridge. I regain my balance and stabilize my path as a new wall of water rises from the river.

  Tela reaches the end of the bridge and coasts to a stop on the rocky bank. After the new wave crests, it collapses down on the bridge. Water splashes from the top of the Crossing and onto my back at the same time I feel firm ground under my feet. I slow to a jog, stop beside Tela, and gasp for air.

  “See,” Tela says, breathing heavily. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  “Maybe not for you,” I pant.

  “Do you need to me to carry you the rest of the way?” she asks.

  “Like that would ever happen,” I mumble.

  After we grin at each other, I follow her into the Barrens on the western side of the river.

  Chapter 14

  We travel due west for about an hour and stop an on elevated plateau. The hill itself isn’t very tall, no higher than a ten-story building. The western incline below us is at roughly a forty-five-degree angle to the flat ground below. The smooth, glossy surface is made of reflective rock that reminds me of black onyx. At the base of the hill, a flat, empty plain stretches to the horizon. The dirt is dull, lacking in any luster, and I don’t see a single tree in sight.

  “The light that reflects from the side of the hill carries across the flats,” Tela says. “The beams are as pure and strong as you’ll find in Krymzyn. If you can focus all your particles in just a few of the brightest rays, you should be able to increase your usual speed by about thirty percent.”

  “Do we start the count at the bottom of the hill?” I ask.

  “No,” she answers before pointing to a distant rock. “Start at the Flying Rock.”

  As I squint across the plain, I spot a towering lone rock in the distance. Extending from its sides near the top are what look like enormous stone wings spread out in mid-flight.

  While once gazing at the stars with my father on Earth, he told me that under the right conditions, the human eye is capable of seeing a flashlight from thousands of miles away. If a person is standing on a mountain on Earth, they can see a solid object three hundred miles in the distance since the curvature of the Earth doesn’t interfere with the line of sight. The “infinite plane of Krymzyn” is flat, and its atmosphere is crystal clear. As is the case now, I’m often amazed by how far I can see here.

  “Are the wings natural?” I ask.

  Tela nods. “When the rock was formed at The Beginning, they were left on its sides.”

  “How far away is it?”

  “About two hundred miles. It’s much larger than it looks from here.”

  “Where do we end our count?” I ask.

  “The Stone Fist,” she answers. “It’s the only other tall rock formation you’ll see across the plain. It’s exactly two thousand miles from the Flying Rock.”

  “How do you know how far apart they are?” I ask.

  “Someone measured it once.”

  “How?”

  She returns her gaze to the Flying Rock. “The Flying Rock is exactly two hundred and twelve miles from here.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I just calculated it.”

  “You can look at something and know exactly how far away it is?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Of course,” she replies, turning her face to me again. “Can’t you?”

  “I can only estimate,” I answer.

  “We know the exact distance. I look at something and instantly know how far away it is.”

  “This place never ceases to amaze me,” I say. “So how did someone measure the distance between the two rocks? You can’t see that far, can you?”

  “Of course not,” she answers. “But long ago, a Traveler calculated the distance by stabbing spears in the ground. He could see each one from a few hundred miles away. He worked his way across the plain and added the distances.”

  “Why would he do that?” I ask.

  “So that Travelers could get their count and compare speeds. It’s been our tradition ever since.”

  “It doesn’t seem very Krymzyn-like,” I comment.

  She shrugs her shoulders. “Travelers have always been a little different.”

  “I guess that’s why I became one,” I say.

  “You are from another world,” Tela replies. “That’s about as different as you can be.”

  I smile at her. “It sure is.”

  “Drink all the sap in your canister,” she says. “You want as much energy as you can have.”

  We both guzzle our sap until the canisters are empty. Once Tela is finished, she lays her canister and spear on the ground.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Leave your things here. We’ll come back for them.”

  “Is that safe?”

  “It’s never been a problem in the past,” she answers. “There aren’t any trees around here, so there shouldn’t be any Murkovin. They can’t catch us anyway.”

  “I guess not,” I say. “Should we take our flasks with us?”

  She nods her head. “Let’s keep them with us. They don’t slow us down much and we’ll want more sap when we’re finished.”

  I toss my spear and canister to the ground beside Tela’s things. She and I walk to the edge of the slope and look down at the bottom.

  “Everything you’ve got,” she says.

  “You, too,” I reply.

  “Ready?”r />
  “Let’s do it.”

  We explode down the side of the hill. When the beams burst into my vision, they’re pure and brilliant white. With little or no reflection from the ground at the base of the slope, reflected light shoots straight across the plain. As soon as my body jolts forward, I funnel all of my particles into the most powerful beams.

  I immediately sense how much faster I’m traveling across the wide-open space. My running motion is smooth and constant while I narrow my vision into the light leading my way. With the energy of so much sap pumping through my veins, my particles soon sting from the speed I unleash. Before I know it, Tela and I pass the Flying Rock and I begin my count.

  Freeing my mind of any other thought, I let the numbers flow through my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the streaks of Tela’s body right by my side. With flat, even ground and no hills to navigate around, we blister across the flats.

  When the Fist of Stone begins to take shape in the distance, we’re still neck and neck. The enormous rock pillar looks exactly like an arm with a clenched hand on top. The creases in the round top of the gigantic stone perfectly shape four curled fingers with a thumb pressed against the inner two.

  Making a mad rush towards the finish, I burn forward with everything I have. As the Fist of Stone flies towards me, it’s nothing but a blur. Tela and I torpedo past it in a dead heat.

  I exit from the beams and slow to a jog. When I finally come to a stop, I drop my hands to my knees and inhale like a vacuum. Sucking down air, Tela trots to my side, rests her hands on her waist, and looks up at the sky. After catching my breath, I return to upright and look at Tela.

  “That was incredible!”

  “What did you have?” she asks, lowering her eyes from the clouds to me.

  “Three-eighty-one,” I say. “What about you?”

  “You won’t believe it,” she replies. “Three-eighty-one.”

  “I do believe it. It looked like we crossed the finish at the same time.”

  “It looked that way to me too.” She raises a hand in the air and takes a step towards me with the biggest, brightest smile I’ve ever seen from her. “We beat Larn!”