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

by BC Powell

  Almost every morrow that we don’t search the Barrens with Maya, I go out on my own. Larn’s spirits were lifted in the same way that mine were by the revelation from Angelicusepte. He’s more than willing to have the other Travelers pick up my workload so that I can continue the search.

  Retracing ground that Sash and I covered with Maya in the southeast Barrens, I scour the areas around trees and search for hidden caverns. Standing alone on the tops of rocky hills, I shout out Tela’s name again and again. The only response I ever receive is the echo of my voice across the empty wasteland.

  On the morrows that I go out on my own, I often return long after Sash and Aven have gone to sleep. It’s not uncommon for me to only doze off for a few hours before going straight back out to the Barrens. With me gone so much, repairing my relationship with Sash has been put on the backburner.

  After another few weeks of futility, I visit the Reflecting Pool yet again. While staring at the image of Tela in the water, I notice a subtle change. I rack my brains trying to recall if the difference in the image was there the last time I went to the Pool, but I can’t remember if it was or wasn’t. The sky behind Tela is absent of the barrier to the Infinite Expanse.

  I drop to my knees in the center of the Pool and close my eyes. If she’s not near the Expanse, she could be anywhere in forty billion square miles of Barrens. Even with Maya, it would take years to cover that much land.

  Emotionally and physically depleted, I return to the Delta. When I enter our habitat, Aven is in her room and Sash is seated at the main table. As I put my things away, I decide that I need to tell Sash what I saw in the Pool—or didn’t see, to be more accurate.

  “I’m sorry I’m so late,” I say. “I went to the Pool again.”

  Sash rises to her feet. “Chase,” she says quietly, “you can’t go on this way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you could see what you look like, you’d know you need a break. You’re pale and thin. You’re so consumed by searching for Tela that there’s no room left for anything else. Ever since Aven’s birthday, you don’t spend time with Aven or me. Even when you’re here, you aren’t mentally present.”

  “I can’t just give up,” I say.

  Sash shakes her head. “I’m not telling you to give up, but this can’t be your entire life. I’ll continue to help as much as I can, but you also have to accept that she didn’t want to return. We may never find her.”

  “Daddy,” Aven calls to me from the doorway to her room.

  “Not now, Aven!” I bark without looking at her.

  Sash takes two steps towards me. Her cheeks flush red with anger. “Do you see what I mean? You rarely see Aven and then you ignore her when you do.”

  Lowering my eyes to the floor, I don’t say anything. The truth in her words hits me as hard anything I’ve ever felt in my life. Over the six weeks since Aven’s birthday, I’ve ignored everything but the search for Tela, including Sash and my daughter.

  “Look at me!” Sash orders.

  I raise my face to her. Sash’s face is still red and her hands are clenched in fists, but her eyes are watery and red.

  “Did something else happen in the Barrens? Did you fall in love with Tela?”

  “Of course not,” I answer. “She’s my friend.”

  “Then tell me what this is, Chase. Why are you so obsessed with finding her?”

  Trying to verbalize in my mind why the search Tela has completely absorbed me, I stare at her for a few seconds before speaking again. “You know how much guilt I’ve felt about leaving my family on Earth. Even though I’ve come to terms with it, I still feel like I abandoned them. I never want to abandon anyone that I care about again. I can’t live with myself if I do.

  “Apart from you and Aven, Tela’s the closest I have to family here. She’s like a sister to me. But when she needed me the most, I let her down. I explained to you before why I should have been able to control the wild sap. I just didn’t figure it out soon enough. I feel like I abandoned her. It’s my fault she’s still out there.”

  Sash shakes her head. “But now you’re abandoning Aven and me. You have to forgive yourself. It’s not your fault that she chose to stay there.”

  “It is,” I reply. “If I’d done the right thing, she never would have been out there on her own.”

  “Do you feel like finding her will make up for leaving your family on Earth?” she asks.

  “Something like that.”

  “Daddy,” Aven says.

  I turn to her and speak in a soft voice. “What is it, baby girl?”

  She holds up a large sheet of canvas in her hands. As she spreads it out in front of her, I realize that it’s my map of Krymzyn. Gripping one corner with an outstretched hand and squeezing the top seam between her chin and chest, she uses her free hand to point to a spot in the Barrens north of the Desert.

  “Tela here,” Aven says.

  I walk across the room and kneel in front of her. “That’s where Tela is?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she answers. “Tela here.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Chees tell me,” she says.

  “The trees told you where Tela is?” I ask, confused by her explanation.

  “Tela here, Daddy,” she confirms. “Chees tell me.”

  I turn my head to Sash. “What do you think this means?”

  Sash steps across the room, crouches between Aven and me, and looks me straight in the eyes. “It means first thing on the morrow, you and I are taking Maya north of the Desert.”

  Chapter 33

  With her child perched in one arm and a spear in the hand of the other, the woman climbs to the top of a hill. She stops on a rounded crest and looks out over the flat land in front of her. Far in the distance, three figures of light glide in her direction, the blurs of steel transports behind two.

  Near the base of the hill the woman stands on, all three shapes of light begin to slow. As their particles separate from imperceptible rays around them, pale bodies gradually take shape. The female on point, a former Traveler of the Delta, is flawless in her separation from the beams. She effortlessly transitions to her sprint while yelling words of guidance to the other two.

  The two male Murkovin learning to travel with transports are awkward as they exit the light. Hesitant and cautious while reducing their speed, they eventually detach from the beams without falling. Of greater importance to the woman, they both maintain control of the sap-filled transports in tow.

  With the former Traveler still in the lead, all three ascend the slope towards the woman. Once they stop in front of her, the two male Murkovin drop their transport handles to the ground. As they inhale deep breaths, one of the men bends down and rests his hands on his knees. Stout and broad-shouldered, roughly the same height as the woman, he stares at the dirt between his feet.

  The other man, lean and slightly taller than the former Traveler, clamps his hands behind his neck. Gasping for air, he looks up at the overcast sky. Long, black hair highlighted with strands of white falls to his shoulders.

  In contrast to the two men, the former Traveler barely breathes heavily at all. With her weapon dangling from one hand, the former Traveler looks back and forth between the two men.

  “You both did very well,” the former Traveler says to the men before turning to the woman. “After a few more morrows of training, they’ll be ready for any part of the Barrens.”

  “Their progress is impressive,” the woman replies and then addresses the two men. “You two can head back to camp. Relax and enjoy some sap.”

  “Thank you,” the long-haired Murkovin says.

  The two men nod their farewells, grab the handles of their transports, and walk down the side of the hill. The young boy nestled in one of the woman’s arms alertly watches them as they head towards the nearby camp.

  “You have a gift for teaching others,” the woman says to the former Traveler. “You’ve taught them to maintain control of the transpo
rts much more quickly than I could have.”

  “Thank you,” she replies. “I like helping others learn.”

  The woman glances at the two men to make sure they’re out of earshot and then returns her attention to the former Traveler. “But you do nothing for yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You spend so much time alone,” the woman answers. “I never see you join the others when the morrow is near its end. You’re usually alone in your cavern or sitting on a hilltop.”

  “I like being alone and . . .” The former Traveler stops talking and looks at the distant charcoal-colored hills.

  “And what?” the woman asks.

  “I don’t feel like I fit in.”

  “At this camp or in the Barrens?”

  “Anywhere,” the former Traveler replies, still peering at the faraway terrain.

  “You came here in search of something that the Delta couldn’t offer you. Do you regret that decision?”

  “No,” she says bitterly, turning her face to the woman. “There’s nothing for me in the Delta.”

  “No one else here even knows you’re from the Delta,” the woman lies, not wanting the former Traveler to know that the tall Murkovin is well aware of who she is. “They’ll accept you if you give them a chance.”

  “They might,” the former Traveler says quietly.

  “Perhaps if you tried spending time with the others, you’ll feel like you fit in. Maybe you’ll even find what it is you came here in search of.” The woman pauses for a moment, remembering her belief that the former Traveler had been rejected by the male Traveler when they were together in the Barrens. “The younger of the two men you were training is about your height, the man with long hair. His eyes often linger on you. He’s the loyal kind and pleasant enough in appearance. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind your company when the others gather at the end of the morrow.”

  The former Traveler is slow to reply. “He’s a fast learner,” she eventually says, “and a decent man.”

  “If you give him the chance to get to know you, even just an idle conversation, maybe you’ll feel a better sense of belonging.”

  “Maybe,” the former Traveler nods.

  The woman kneels to the ground and sets her child’s feet on the dirt. As she returns to upright, she takes one of the boy’s hands in her protective grip.

  “Unless you make an effort,” she says to the former Traveler, “you’ll never know what it is you were hoping to find in the Barrens. Rarely are things given to us, especially things worth having.”

  “I guess that’s true.”

  “After my child is asleep, I may join the others around the tree. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

  “I might go later,” the former Traveler says. “I need to clean up now.”

  “If I can help you in any way, let me know.”

  The former Traveler walks down the slope in the direction of her cavern. Although her cave is close to the woman’s, on the other side of the same hill, the woman decides not to walk with her. She wants the former Traveler to have time to digest her suggestions on her own.

  As the woman had hoped when she first found her in the Barrens, the former Traveler has been a tremendous asset in teaching others to blend their light, especially with transports. But her time of value may be nearing an end.

  The woman has made sure that the activities in the Desert have been well hidden from all who pass through the training camp. Only when their complete trust has been gained is more information shared with them, and then only tidbits of the larger plan. Everything they’d accomplished could all be put in jeopardy if the former Traveler were to leave now. If she were to return to the Delta, too many questions might be asked about the woman’s activities. No matter what it takes, the woman can never let the former Traveler leave.

  After the former Traveler is out of sight, the woman cautiously guides her child down the slope. When they reach the bottom, the boy yanks his hand away from hers and runs across the flat ground. Long, curly locks bounce off the back of his neck. Not yet streaked with the white of an adult Murkovin, the boy’s hair is shiny and pure black. The woman jogs after the boy with pride gleaming from her eyes at the speed and coordination her child possesses at less than five hundred morrows old.

  At the valley leading to their cavern, the boy stops to wait for his Ovì. The woman runs to him from behind and slows to a walk. As they stroll towards their cavern side by side, the boy reaches a hand up and slips it into the woman’s grip.

  “You’re already faster than I was at twice your height,” the woman says to her child.

  The boy looks up at her face. “I want to travel.”

  “I’m sure you will soon. And you’ll probably be much younger than I was when I learned. But be patient. There’s no reason to hurry.”

  Hand in hand, the two weave through the valley to their cavern entrance. As the woman always does, she pauses to look at the top of several nearby hills. Before entering their dwelling at the end of each morrow, she makes certain that the guards are alert. Only after seeing them at their respective posts does she lead her child through the tunnel.

  The woman’s loyal female servant and the servant’s child are already waiting inside the cavern when the woman and boy arrive. Adhering to their custom at the end of most morrows, the four sit at a wooden table together and drink sap. Surrounded by the purple light of the tiny grubs burrowed in the ceiling, the woman learns of the two children’s activities earlier that morrow. Her servant, she knows, is well equipped to teach the children the basic skills needed for survival, but the woman takes responsibility for teaching them to fight.

  After cleansing her child in the small waterfall at one end of the cavern, the woman lies beside the boy on a large mattress. Running her fingers through his hair, she admires the sleek lines of his face. Unlike most morrows, she doesn’t close her eyes after he falls asleep. Instead, she rises from the bed and crosses the large room to the small adjoining cave where her servant and her servant’s child have a bed of their own.

  The woman quietly explains that she needs to go out to check on the others at camp. Taking her spear with her, she leaves the dwelling and walks the quarter-mile to the other side of the hill. She glances at the entrance to the former Traveler’s cavern but decides not to go in.

  She hurries through a broad valley and up to the top of a hill. The tall Murkovin, her most trusted companion, is already sitting on a rocky ridge that runs along the crest. She stops beside him, rests the tip of her spear on a rock, and looks down the slope at the circular flat area below. A lone sustaining tree grows in the center, its upper branches all tied with rope. Stakes embedded in the bark feed tubes that lead to a steel transport. Three more transports reside on the ground nearby, all full of sap.

  A dozen Murkovin, an even mix of male and female, sit at the base of a hill on the far side of the tree from the woman. Occasionally drinking sap from wooden cups, they’re engaged in light-hearted conversation. The sight of her kind peacefully interacting with one another is one the woman takes great pride in seeing. One morrow, she knows, this is how the entire population of the Barrens will exist. Those who refuse to adapt to the new ways will die at the hands of those who are loyal to the woman.

  In the center of the row of Murkovin sits the long-haired young man who was learning to tow a transport earlier that morrow. As the woman’s eyes scan the others, she spots a man seated a few feet from the edge of the group that she doesn’t recognize. Brawny and clothed in worn, crudely-sewn garments, the man’s hair is short but unkempt. Sitting alone on a rock with a scowl on his face, he silently examines the others.

  “Who’s the man on the far left?” the woman asks the tall Murkovin. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  From his seat on the ridge, the tall Murkovin looks up at her. “I brought him here earlier this morrow. He has good traveling skills.”

  “Where is he from?”

  “The far northwest,” he ans
wers.

  The woman scrapes the tip of her spear across the top of a rock. “The men from that area are often set in their ways—ways I don’t like.”

  “I know,” he says. “That’s why I’m keeping an eye on him. He’s skilled at blending his light, so he’s worth a try.”

  “The two men who once tried to make me their captive were good at blending their light.”

  The tall Murkovin nods his head. “As I said, I’m not letting him out of my sight until I know more about him.”

  The woman’s attention is drawn to movement at the bottom of the slope on her far left. With no weapon in hand, the former Traveler walks around the side of the hill. Her thick, black hair, a few streaks of white intertwined, flows down her back. She has curves where a woman should, the woman thinks to herself, and knows how to make sure they’re noticed when she wants to.

  The former Traveler approaches the row of Murkovin sitting at the base of the hill. As she walks past the new recruit from the northwest, the brutish man stands to his feet. With a lustful gaze in his eyes, he reaches out a hand and slaps her behind. The former Traveler spins and swings the back of one hand at the Murkovin’s face. After catching it in his grip, he forcefully twists her arm until she winces from pain. The long-haired young man jumps to his feet and dashes towards them.

  “Stop!” the woman shouts.

  The brute releases his grip on the former Traveler’s hand. He and the former Traveler look up the hill at the woman. The long-haired young man who was rushing to the former Traveler’s aid stops a few feet behind her. At the woman’s side, her most trusted companion springs to his feet and starts down the slope, but the woman grabs the back of his shirt.

  “I’ll take care of this,” she grumbles. “You stay here.”

  Trying to keep the rage inside her hidden, the woman marches down the side of the hill. From their seats near the tree, the Murkovin watch as the woman approaches, wondering what she’ll do next. The tall Murkovin stays in place on top of the hill behind the woman, but he primes his muscles and readies his spear in case he’s needed.