Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1)

by R. V. Johnson

  Love blended with joy bombarded her mind. Coming in torrents faster and faster, it built to a crescendo too pure to absorb, too pure not to try, yet too strong to grasp, she let it flow past. It was too intense. Torrent after torrent slammed into her mind with no pause between. Stronger and stronger they washed over her self-awareness. Soon, there was only joy and an unabashed love.

  Crystalyn relished the love. She opened herself fully to it. The torrent swept her up. A profound joy frolicked around her, beside her, with her. For the first time in her life, there wasn’t a thing wrong, no doubts from the past, no anxieties of the current situation, and no frets for a better future. Not one worry, only unadulterated joy.

  It frightened her. There were always anxieties. Instinctively, she slowed the flow to a trickle by reducing the size of the link to her. The clearing sprang into clarity. She was on her knees looking into the yellow, hourglass eyes of the Warden an arm’s length before her. Was it truly from this mortal dimension? Or was it astral by nature? Either way it didn’t matter. She couldn’t take such a strong, emotion-laden assault, she was afraid her individual emotions would be laid bare, she’d revert to her preadolescent state where anyone could see what was happening inside her mind by the expressions on her face…before she’d had her barriers in place, when life wasn’t so complicated. Worse, be wiped clean. Please, don’t do that again. Your feelings are quite strong, and a bit…overpowering.

  Bemusement flowed through the link, gaining in intensity. Now she knew how to handle it. Gathering her will, she reduced the link and slowed the flow substantially. Bemusement switched to one of respect and a sense of something else…awe, perhaps, tinged with worry.

  I meant no harm, Do’brieni. I was simply overjoyed to find my link mate so soon. Please, accept my apologies. I’m still considered young by my people. I erroneously allowed my exuberance to get the better of me. Will you allow me to make amends?

  You can start by telling me how we are able to communicate without words.

  Confusion flowed in. You and I share a link.

  I’ve gathered that, Crystalyn thought, climbing to her feet. A twinge from her stomach brought her hand down to cover the wound. Many days and nights would be required for the spiderbee’s puncture to heal. The wound should have stopped oozing blood by now. Perhaps when she felt stronger, she would see to it herself instead of relying on Lore Rayna. Right now, questions for the lovely creature in front of her burned laser-deep in her mind. Why don’t you speak normally, using your voice? Why don’t I?

  You would not comprehend my voice, as I would not understand you. The link converts human words to familiar images for me.

  Now it was her turn to be confused. How could she be hearing images? It didn’t matter. As long as they could communicate, she was glad. Are there many who live on this world such as you?

  We are dwindling…too few…too few. I am one of only two dozen males that remain. Females do not link.

  What happened to all of you?

  Savage anger and deep sadness flowed through in a rush. Users have hunted our males for ages. They hope to duplicate the telepathic links we establish with humans so they will not have the limitation of having to perform a Contacting. The Flow drain on the person Using the Flow is substantial, so as rule, they are short in length and only used when necessary. They have done this by attempting to forge an unnatural link with us by torture, or magical coercion, or both, in the hopes of gaining the ability to use it for their own ends. Thankfully, they seem to have given up such attempts recently. That coupled with our low birth rate has taken a toll.

  Crystalyn felt the sadness down to her core for the being. Life must have been so hard. On an impulse, she sent a feeling of empathy through the link. Gratitude flowed back. I should’ve asked this first. Where do you hail from? The Lore Mother hasn’t spoken much about you. What do I call you?

  As your ancient Valen female mentioned, I belong to a solitary race known as Wardens. I am from the oldest clan. For longer than the eldest of the White Fur clan remembers, we’ve held vigil against evil, whether it derives from light or dark. As for my designation, it’s entirely too long for a human to pronounce since it contains much ancestral lineage. I’ve shortened it to Broth for you. In time, you may learn my full name.

  Crystalyn tried the name aloud. “Broth, it is then. I like it very much. It suits you.” Something Broth had said earlier, coupled with his last statement, clicked together. “Wait! You know what the Lore Mother spoke? You understand what I’m saying when I say it aloud? You can hear what others say to me?”

  Amusement and affection brushed her mind. Of course, I understand. I can hear quite well, actually. As I sent, the link converts human words into images I comprehend.

  “So I’m not limited to communicating with you through the link?”

  Additional amusement touched her mind. No, only I am “limited” to communicating this way since you would not understand my language.

  “Can’t you use your thought projection on others?” she said, trying it aloud.

  Thought projection? That’s an astute way of putting it. A warm feeling of approval mixed with pride flowed through her mind. We males link once in a lifetime. In time, we shall be so heavily linked it would be devastating to us both. I would not survive it, but you may, should I go to meet my ancestors. Humans have adaptive minds and as such, fare better.

  Crystalyn smiled with affection. A thought occurred to her. “So that means no one can really tell you to do something except me? You could simply ignore it as if you didn’t understand.” The Lore Mother had raised her ire for much of the past few days with her increasing commands to eat and rest. Even Lore Rayna had begun to throw words out intended for her compliance. As if, she ever would.

  I suppose so. You would have to be within hearing of the command, though. It’s through you that the link converts the images.

  “Come, I’ll introduce you to the others. The Lore Mother and Lore Rayna are not going to like it when you don’t respond to their commands. This should be interesting.”

  Why would they take an interest in commanding me?

  “It’s what females of any race do when they get together. They’ll be angry when you listen only to me. This should be fun!”

  I don’t understand. What is the advantage to making them angry?

  “Never mind, they’re anxious to meet you. Let’s go.”

  Flexing powerful front shoulders and massive rear haunches, Broth sprang to his feet. A twinge of fear passed through her: Broth’s powerful jaws were suddenly close. She inhaled his warm, sour breath. Her eyes fell on a patch of white that stood out from his sleek sienna fur under his jaws. She touched it, feeling the soft silky fur, short enough she almost thought of it as skin. Wrapping her arms around Broth’s thick neck, she pressed her head against his, holding him in a fierce embrace. As if cementing a bond, a heady, unrestricted love flowed. Things were right for once, she’d found a friend she could trust without reservation.

  How long they stood that way, she couldn’t tell. Finally, she pulled her arms free and stepped back. Broth shook, muscles rippling. Bounding to her side, they began the trek toward camp in silence. For a time, nothing else conveyed or projected was required; contentment laced with excitement flowed through the link, giving her a great sense of comfort. For the first time since stepping through the sapphire gate, she was glad to be on this world.

  The camp’s occupants arose to their feet as she strode to the small cooking fire with the Warden trailing close behind. The Lore Mother and Lore Rayna each uttered a small cry, Cudgel and Hastel cursed. Atoi stood, silent and impassive.

  Crystalyn halted near the fire. Broth pushed his broad head over her shoulder. She smiled. The action seemed so puppyish, but completely natural at the same time. Scratching under the Warden’s offered jaw, she regarded her little group.

  Cudgel’s right hand reached over his shoulder to grip the iron-tipped club strapped to his back. By contrast, Haste
l appeared calm, standing in his customary spot slightly behind Atoi, both battle axes hung in the two leather sheaths at each hip, the crossbow straps crisscrossed diagonally across his broad chest. Atoi stood gazing back at her with those over large almond-shaped green eyes, oblivious to the big canine head hovering above her shoulder.

  The Lore Mother stepped out from behind Lore Rayna. “A little advance notice before trotting a warden into camp would have been respectful, Daughter,” she said. Her head turned to regard the canine head plopped over her shoulder. Perhaps she was imagining things, but Crystalyn could almost swear Broth’s canine jaws lifted for a wide grin. “Please, my Lord, how may we serve you in our meager camp?”

  “Lord? Why do you address him as Lord, Mother?” Crystalyn asked. The mother-daughter way of speaking was hard for her to get used to; she wasn’t at all certain how well it was working.

  Lore Rayna stood in front of the Lore Mother her green dress gyrating in distress, revealing too much, again. “How can you not know? The color of his fur denotes him as a warden noble, or higher. A link with a warden is a rare and precious occurrence, but you should be aware of your linking to someone of high station. Nobles have only linked once or twice through their history.”

  Is this true? Crystalyn sent.

  It is part of our ways, yes.

  Why didn’t you tell me?

  It is of the smallest importance. We are link mates. Nothing else need be significant.

  Crystalyn felt a slight let down. It was doubtful the Lore Mother or Lore Rayna would try to boss nobility around. What else had Broth failed to mention?

  Her stomach rumbled. The time for food was drawing near, eating and sleeping would help with the healing. Tomorrow, she’d insist on continuing toward Surbo, recovered or not. Her newfound companion would aid greatly in her search for Jade, royalty or not.

  QUIET FOOTSTEPS

  Jade gazed at the horizon from high on the mountainside. The twilight of first light failed to overrun the brightest eastern stars still clinging stubbornly to the gray sky. Sunlight would eventually win; each star would wink out one-by-stubborn-one. Perhaps one or two of them would be a planet reflecting the sun, in which case they’d hang around longer. Possibly. Astronomy had never been her passion. Only those living on High Realm bothered with it at all.

  Turning her back on the eastern sky, she searched for Camoe, marveling how he was able to wrap the terrain around him. Be it dark, or full light, it never seemed to matter; he vanished without a sound, not even a sigh of wind left whispering behind wherever he moved.

  The frigid predawn air smelled fresh with the scents of evergreens and ferns that mixed with a dewy, rich soil. They’d made camp at one of the few areas still vibrant with life. Her stiff muscles welcomed the movement, loosening with each step. She felt alert and invigorated after a night spent slumbering on a bed of soft pine needles.

  Burl fell in behind her, stepping from the deep shadows of one of the monstrous green trees. His presence failed to surprise her now since the raggedy man never slept. She knew he watched over her while she slept, though she wasn’t sure if the thought comforted her or not. She was positive he wasn’t inherently evil, though the Dark User who had created him in all probability was, Camoe was likely correct about that. So far, the Green Writhe druid had rarely been wrong. The Dark Creation might still be under the control of its creator. How could she know Burl wouldn’t bludgeon her to death in her sleep?

  He wouldn’t. What was wrong with her this morning? She’d been over it before in her mind. Running from death, or worse, the past three full days was bringing out her morbid tendencies again. Why not? This whole world was turning out morbid.

  She found Camoe by accident. Waiting for brighter light to emerge from behind the Dark Citadel, she paused beside a rock she was thinking about sitting on. The rock decided to stand. Camoe’s quiet, raspy voice broke through the brisk air, leaving a trail of icy vapor behind. “It is good I did not have to wake you. We should be pressing onward. I want to speak with the monks at Brown Recluse before three days have passed.”

  Her ears perked at the mention of a destination. “You haven’t spoken much about the place. Why are we going there, again?”

  Camoe blew a soft breath. “The monks are knowledgeable in many things. Brown Recluse has nurtured many scholars. Only the Vibrant Vale lore masters have bested them with their knowledge base in written form. Besides, the monks hear things…they may have heard of your sister, but I make no promise of their aid. They can be…temperamental, at times.”

  Jade grew excited. As bossy as Crystalyn was, Jade couldn’t wait to see her. Her stomach burned as she thought about her big sister. She missed her so much. And dad, it would be wonderful to see him soon. “Okay, we should get going then. It’s getting light enough. I think I can move faster with less noise now.”

  Camoe’s silver head swung toward her. She hated not being able to see his eyes. Were they blue or gray? “As I said, I make no promises. The monks owe me, but that does not mean they will help us. They are a solitary lot and view visitors with disdain and suspicion. Even so, I have strong ties there, enough we can gather information about your sister. Someone surely has heard about her on this world. The monks pride themselves on keeping up with most Users.”

  “I don’t know if she is a User. Just like I don’t know if I am, I’ll have to accept your opinion on that, since you keep saying so.”

  “Your sister brought you here by reading symbols in a book, did she not?” Camoe asked. Jade didn’t need to see a frown crease his forehead to know it was there. “Those symbols are conduits leading back to a User, they have to be. It takes someone quite strong in accessing the Flow, or something with similar magical properties, to invoke one in the first place.”

  Jade hesitated. Could Crystalyn be a User? It hadn’t seemed that way, not even when she touched the gateway Crystalyn had brought to life. Did that fact alone mean her sister was a User? Did her own visions make her a User? No. It didn’t feel right. Crystalyn’s and her powers were different in some profound way. Exactly how, she wasn’t certain. She wasn’t going to disagree, though. The last thing she wanted was to alienate Camoe. He’d saved her several times, like Burl. A chill swept up her spine, leaving a shudder in its wake. Without her two companions, this new world of Astura would’ve ended her life in a matter of hours, or sooner. All she wanted was to find her sister and go home.

  Camoe ended their conversation by walking off into the trees. Jade followed. Once again, she concentrated on keeping up and staying quiet. Before going very far, she could tell she was getting better at it. The days spent crashing through one forest or another, stealth was becoming second nature.

  Insidious shale rockslides, lichen-covered boulder fields, and fire-starter dried pine needles all lay soundlessly behind them as she slipped through yet another pocket of pines, only to pull up short. Spreading steeply downhill, blackened, splintered trees, many times thicker than her waist, rested on massive boulders, mixed with muddy dirt mounds. Deadfall, varying from sticks to log-sized branches, jutted from the mix or lay crisscrossed like giant, forgotten beaver dams filling a great gully, like the many desolate ones on the Farm. The Farm terra-formers had recreated the dams since the industrious animals that’d once made them were long extinct. She still felt sadness for the woodland creatures.

  Sickly willows and thick brown grasses pushed up through the debris field, adding to the chaos. Water burbled somewhere underneath it all. Camoe had led them to the top of a massive avalanche area, recent from the looks of it. Jade studied the slide with dread. Dark holes, large enough to swallow a man, gaped wide. Smaller holes, wide enough to break a leg, dotted the area. Camoe could not possibly want to climb down it, could he? Rappelling down a cliff might be less dangerous. Besides, the sun had nearly sunk down to the western slope.

  The druid stood on a small animal trail, looking left and right. The woodland creatures had begun to adapt to the slide by veering to eith
er side, but Camoe looked unhappy with either choice.

  “What is it?”

  “The path used to step down this ravine. The slope was a gentle, easy climb down, yet thick enough to provide good cover. It was also the last good source of drinking water for a long while. Now I am uncertain of our next course of action.”

  “How are we doing with water?”

  “Used with care, we should be able to stretch it through two sunsets.”

  “Why don’t we go around it then? Surely two will be enough.”

  “Two days will not see us at the bottom of the plateau. Worse than that, it would expose us to the Dark Road for much of the passage. I would hate to chance it, yet I see no other way. We cannot take the left path: the Molting River feeding Fetid Fume Swamp lies in our way. Most creatures living beside the river are carnivorous along with a few in the swamps. Almost all creatures and flora in both areas are poisonous to consume; sustenance is scarce. Those ways are not a choice I care to take.”

  “Well, what then? We can’t go back.”

  “No, there is no going back, but the Dark Road is risky, even with darkness as cover—” He grew quiet, staring into the distance.

  Jade followed his gaze, her breath skipping a heartbeat, then two. The mountainside changed drastically not far downhill from where the druid stood. The trees grew sparse and stunted. The blackened trees clung defiantly to a bald, rocky hillside sloping ever steeper, toward a treacherous cliff side. The rocks looked like the same type of black stone as the Dark Citadel’s exterior. Her stomach sank. Even after grueling days of sneaking through an overgrown, dying forest, they still hadn’t cleared the Dark Lands. How far did they have to go to leave this dreadful place? The hillside was steep, without anything resembling a trail. How would they ever make it down intact?