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

by R. V. Johnson

  About midday, Hastel paused to rest and water the horses at a clear, sandy stream, for which Crystalyn was grateful. She still hadn’t recovered fully from the battle despite Leven’s healing. When she dismounted, the spiderbees’ wounds sent a stabbing reminder shooting through her stomach of her abysmal failures to close it.

  I shall follow the stream in search of small prey, Do’brieni.

  Crystalyn grimaced. Ugh, please try to keep any graphic thoughts or images to a minimum.

  An image of Broth gazing at her, head tilted to one side, flowed into her mind. Crystalyn laughed. Never mind, my wonderful Do’brieni. Just don’t go far.

  Hastel looked up from where he was digging into the appaloosa mare’s saddlebags. “What’s the laugh for?” Without waiting for a reply, he loaded his short, beefy arms, then passed around sweetmeats, warm cheeses, and apples,

  Crystalyn accepted the flask and the food Hastel offered though she chafed at the delay. The further distance away from Carnage Field—her name for the site of battle—the better, she could then work on putting the destruction behind her.

  Chomping on a sweetmeat, Atoi’s brilliant green eyes regarded her in silence.

  Crystalyn found a rock next to where the little girl sat cross-legged on the grass. “Why did you run to help Kara Laurel and Leven? Did you know them?

  Atoi froze in mid-chew, her eyes round. Her arms dropped to her side, the sweetmeat gripped in one hand, forgotten. “I didn’t,” she replied, her voice soft.

  Crystalyn was confused. “You did. You attracted a field full of dark cones that attempted to destroy us while trying to get to those two. You must’ve known who they were. It’s the only logical explanation for such a foolhardy act.”

  “I don’t think that’s what she meant,” Hastel said. Squatting, he set his food on a cloth as he nibbled on smaller portions. For such a wide man he didn’t eat much.

  “Oh?” Crystalyn regarded the little girl. Atoi’s big green eyes stared at her. Or, beyond her, she couldn’t tell which. “Why would the Dark Child go to them?”

  Atoi regarded her in silence.

  Crystalyn was frustrated. When Jade was Atoi’s age, it had only taken a simple tongue-lashing or two to get answers. It wouldn’t work with Atoi. Perhaps at first, it might have, but they’d been through too much now. Atoi knew her too well. “How do I find out? I don’t want you—or the entity inside you—flinging us into a combat zone again, or worse.”

  Broth joined the conversation, though she was the only one to hear. I am uncertain the ancient, young one can answer your inquiry.

  Suddenly, images bombarded Crystalyn’s mind. In them, a great darkness grew swiftly, swallowing a beautiful green countryside. Moving faster still, a child-sized shape fled before the great darkness, running with incredible speed. The distance between the two lengthened. Three enormous shapes detached from the darkness then, forming into colossal flying beasts. Overtaking the child shape, the oblong-winged forms drew together to block the sun. Spurred to greater speeds, the child-like shape ran into the blackness created by the flyers and vanished.

  Crystalyn’s mind reeled. Oh Broth, please, don’t do that without warning. What did it all mean?

  Confusion flowed through the link. Crystalyn felt it as if it were her own. What have I done, Do’brieni?

  Overwhelmed me with those images, there were too many, too fast. Who was the shadowed child?

  An image of Broth stalking though trees in search of prey flowed in. I sent no images.

  “But if you didn’t, who did?” Crystalyn asked aloud, her eyes still fixed on Atoi. The girl had resumed eating the sweetmeats. Abruptly, she stood, going to the nearby stream and pulling stalks of grass from the moist ground. Bringing them back, she offered them to the black mare. The mare pulled them from her tiny hand, munching away happily.

  The child shape had been about Atoi’s size. “How did you do that? What was chasing you?” Crystalyn asked.

  Atoi’s large eyes regarded her. “Do what?” she asked without much interest.

  “Send me those images. I’ll ask again, what was that chasing you? It was you in them, wasn’t it?”

  Atoi’s bone-white face remained smooth.

  Crystalyn regarded her young companion until it was obvious she wasn’t going to receive an answer.

  “She won’t answer if she doesn’t know it,” Hastel said.

  Crystalyn started. Hastel had the appaloosa’s reins firmly in hand, the saddlebag buckled. “You’ve known her a long time, haven’t you?”

  Hastel eyed Atoi, his face taking on an odd, tender cast unbefitting his normal gruffness. “Aye, I have indeed.”

  “How many years would you say?”

  Hastel’s scraggly brown beard tightened around his small mouth. “Since I was a babe, younger than she appears now,” he said his voice barely audible. Moving away, he climbed into the spotted mare’s saddle, his axes thumping against his thighs. Shifting his weight forward, he looked back at her. “We should keep moving. The daylight left to us will barely be enough to see us camped halfway to Surbo.”

  Crystalyn scrambled onto Ferral’s tall back. “Wait!” she called, bringing her horse around to follow. Hastel passed by Atoi as the young girl mounted the white mare. When Crystalyn caught up, she asked,” has Atoi ever shown you images…inside your mind?”

  Hastel brought the horse to such a sudden halt Crystalyn nearly rode past. “No. I didn’t know she could. Are you sure it was her, and not your Warden?”

  “I’m reasonably certain, yes.”

  Atoi trotted past them without expression, not glancing their way once. Hastel’s face soured. “No matter, I doubt she’ll ever share a vision with me,” he said quietly. Kicking his heels gently to the mare’s belly, he slapped the reins. The white-spotted horse jumped into motion.

  “Hastel, you can’t leave it like that! Why wouldn’t she share with you?” Crystalyn called, loosening her hold on Ferral’s reins. The big horse sprang past Atoi’s mount, following the appaloosa. Hastel ignored her shout, his horse nearly at a full gallop.

  Bloody stubborn man, she thought. How was she ever going to know what was going on if he wouldn’t tell her anything?

  Ferral needed no urging to run. At full gallop, Crystalyn hung onto the reins, recalling that Broth had wandered downstream hunting, though she could pinpoint his location without much effort. The Warden was stationary downstream. We’re on the move again. Hastel’s being petulant.

  I am aware you are moving away. I will complete my meal and join you soon. There is a peculiar darkness in the human, Hastel, yet I’ve detected no malice toward you.

  You can do that; detect malice, I mean?

  Only when directed toward my link mate or myself. It has limitations on the specifics of what I can sense.

  You mean someone would have to have murderous intentions.

  Yes. You continue to surprise me with your advanced grasp of our ability. She caught a flurry of emotions from him: pride, confidence, and a slight hint of arrogance.

  You expected me to notice that.

  Our link is gaining in strength.

  Crystalyn didn’t have the same exuberant outlook as the Warden. She was afraid of a close link. Would the time come when she didn’t know which emotion was hers? No. She wouldn’t allow that to happen. Too much depended on her being her. No matter how broken her mind had become.

  DESOLATION

  Jade reveled in the mundane task of walking on level ground. Even though her arms and legs begged for the mercy of extended bed rest, she was heartened to be upright and on her own two feet, not worrying about losing her grip. At least if she fell here it was only a short way to the ground.

  Camoe preceded her, slowing whenever he noticed her lagging behind. Jade glanced back at the route down the plateau, for a moment expecting to find Burl trailing behind. An empty cliff face stared resolutely down at her like some monstrous stone leviathan. As before, at the grotto, nothing moved there. No bird
flew along the towering cliff faces on gliding wings. No sure-footed animal bounced from ledge to ledge.

  She’d half-hoped to see Burl climbing down a ledge, disjointed legs dangling below him. Instead, there was…desolation. On an impulse, she opened up her mind, listening for anything moving, however small.

  She stumbled and nearly fell. Something else was there, a presence she didn’t expect, would never have expected. Desolation wasn’t so desolate. Her mouth dried. Desolation was aware. It watched. It waited. It was aware of her.

  Prying her eyes away from the plateau, she closed the distance to Camoe, trying not to glance over her shoulder. The essence druid chose to take her quickened steps as an indication to pick up the pace. She was happy to comply, the urge to run raced through her to the core. Sucking in her lip, Jade pondered the feeling she still had. Something powerful and clinically evil had grown aware of her, and sensed that she was aware of it. But it wasn’t certain how something could be aware of it from so great a distance, so it watched and waited. Now that she’d opened herself to it, she couldn’t drive its foulness from her mind. It had the horrible reek of an army of dominions wraiths watching her, seeking her. Nothing could be that powerful, not even here, could it?

  Camoe kept his grueling pace until dusk brought twilight down upon them. Rounding a fallen falun tree, he halted at a massive root system that created a natural windbreak. Setting his bag down, he began to round out a fire pit with the many flat stones nearby. Jade gazed ahead. A line of dark trees trailed black vines from most every branch. A foul smell permeated the air, wafting from their direction.

  Jade turned her back on the dark trees. Gathering smaller rocks, she put them in the holes left from the bigger rocks her companion had stacked in a circle. “What’s that stench? Do you smell it?”

  “One would have to have cauterized nasal canals to not smell it. Behind those cypress trees are the Fetid Fume swamps. The only way to avoid them is to keep clear of the region altogether, which I always do as much as possible.”

  Jade’s stomach sank. “But not this time, I suppose.”

  “No, not this time, it’s going to provide a natural cover for us. Even the Dark Users give it a wide berth. I expect they shall not follow us in there.”

  “So, you think we’re being followed, or we will be?”

  “We cannot afford rashness. Not with your little Dark Creation out there knowing which way we went.”

  Jade chose not to respond. All she knew was that he was missing and that she missed him. “When I looked back at the path we took, no one was following us, not down the cliff. It’s funny though, the mountain did seem to be watching us. At least, part of it was.”

  Camoe froze, his hands gripping the last rock for the pit. His light blue eyes regarded her with disbelief. Or was it surprise?

  Gathering kindling, Camoe spent a few moments building a fire without looking at her. “When did you get that notion?” he asked finally.

  “About halfway here, after reaching the bottom of the cliff.”

  Camoe pulled his bag close. Rummaging inside, he began preparing the meal by setting his cooking pot on the ground. “Can you sense the direction it is coming from?”

  Jade didn’t need to think about it. There was a sense of watchfulness with an underlying hint of…malice, stronger south of the way they’d come. “Yes. What’s to the south of us?”

  Camoe’s dark blue eyes regarded her. He nodded, as if he expected her to know. “A league to the south is the Stair of Despair. You have detected its malevolence.”

  “Oh! That doesn’t sound good. In fact, it’s sort of despairing,” Jade said with a smile, trying not to giggle.

  “No one sane would dare go near,” Camoe said, his face-hardening. Jade dropped the smile from her face. “It is a place of evil so ancient that no one knows how to ward against it. We have yet to discover its weakness, if it has one. Even Dark Users avoid the stair unless they have considerable power. I would rather be struck mute than go near it again.”

  “Yet we are near, much nearer than you would like, right? You said again, so you’ve been here before. Why come this way? Why risk the cliff ledges when you know we have to go so close to the Stairs?”

  “Those ledges were not there a season ago. The path away from the Citadel used to be a series of waterfalls with clear ponds underneath called the Plunging Chasms. The animal trails beside them provided an easy traversal with good cover. In the past, it was a way to spy on the Dark Citadel. I suspect its collapse was for this reason; some Great Lord somewhere figured out how good a cover it was. Our chances of passing unnoticed are still better than on the Dark Road. Both ways have eyes. By that I mean those leaving are watched too. The Great Lord does not wish those held prisoner, or his Creations, to escape before they are released to perform his foul bidding.”

  Camoe set a small pot of water to boil on an overhanging rock above the fire. “This way down from the mountain is only guarded by roving long-ranged patrols, and the evil present in the Stair of Despair.”

  “Is having a fire a good idea with patrols about?” Jade asked. Her alarm grew thinking about it.

  “It is a risk, but it is needed. What little food I have left should be heated.”

  “I know. My bag had most of the food we had left in it.”

  Camoe stood. “This will be the last fire for a while. In the morning, we shall cross into the swamps. Keep the fire small as it is, but warm enough to heat the water. I shall be gone for some time foraging for roots and leaves to add to the soup stock. I shall return as daylight wanes.” Glancing into the pot once, he turned toward the blackened trees.

  “And Camoe…” Jade called softly.

  Camoe halted, looking back over his shoulder.

  “Be careful,” she said.

  Tilting his head down slightly, Camoe resumed his trek across the field of stunted and overturned trees to vanish into the darkened forest.

  Jade gazed at the tree line long after, willing him to hurry. She felt so exposed. But she did agree with Camoe’s reasoning—a hot meal would be needed before tackling the swamp, though she hated being alone. This was a first for her since coming to this world, since the sapphire obelisks had flung her into Lord Charn’s armory. Camoe had almost killed her before she’d read his aura. Viewing the image of his daughter Maialene losing her life had saved her life, she knew that now. Climbing into the smoke vent tunnel to escape the flickers had brought about the chance meeting of Burl. The mute, burlap-skinned man had saved her life−all their lives−on numerous occasions. Jade couldn’t believe he’d stolen away to return to his creator, there must be some other explanation. Burl was a friend.

  Moving as little as possible, Jade tended to the fire twice, gathering twigs and branches from the fallen falun tree. Many times, she gazed at the path Camoe had chosen, expecting to see him enter the clearing, his sure-footed steps quickly bringing him across the dying meadow, but nothing moved. The tree line darkened, and then faded from her sight as the night cloaked them from view.

  Despite her best efforts at keeping it only warm, the water began to boil. She worried that Camoe hadn’t made it back before full dark set in. What if something had happened to him and he never came back? No. He would come.

  If only Burl was here, at least she’d have her stoic companion to lean on. Where is he? She wondered again. His quiet companionship was truly a comfort. She hoped nothing awful had befallen her friend. She’d relied on him almost as much as she did Camoe. How would she survive without him?

  Camoe stepped into the campfire’s meager light after she’d added their precious water to the boiling pot twice. Relief flowed through her. As hard as he was to agree with at times, she was happy to see him. Being alone didn’t suit her.

  Setting two small rodents on a rock, Camoe began processing them with expert strokes of his wide knife. Several freshly dug roots and harvested herb leaves from his foraging appeared out of his pouch next. Scooping it all into a pile, he deftly de
posited every ingredient into her boiling water. Making use of the same blade, Camoe stirred vigorously for a moment. Jade smiled when he set the knife to the side, looking her way.

  He smiled back though it was quick. “I must apologize for my extended absence, I did not mean for it to take as long as it did. Game is scarce in this country, but we are in dire need of protein for the next leg of our journey. I had to stalk the outskirts of the swamps for a fleeting chance at small game. Not my preferred choice, but they will do.”

  He was right. If the journey to this point was any indication, extensive physical activity required energy. The last thing she wanted was for her body to start feeding off her muscles. “They will do,” Jade said, suppressing a yawn. “Are the swamps going to be as bad as the Dark Citadel’s tunnels or the cliff faces we climbed down?”

  “The swamps could be worse; they harbor some of the most unfavorable creatures native to my world, though not many here are as bad as the dominion wraith.” He paused stirring the pot and regarded her for a moment, then returned to cooking before speaking. “I will meet with the Vibrant Elders upon my return to the Vale to discuss how it could be possible for you to survive such a thing as the wraith. I need to submit a report summarizing my time at the Dark Citadel as it is.”

  Jade wanted to know what a Vibrant Elder could be but a terrible thought rose in her mind. “We are not going near this Stair of Despair, are we?”

  Camoe glanced at her sharply, saying nothing. Removing two tin cups from his bag, he carefully poured soup from the pot into both. Setting a cup near her, he sat with his back to a rock, sipping quietly, regarding her in silence as she sipped hers.