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

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Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) Page 35

by R. V. Johnson


  Caven slumped in his chair, oblivious to his unfinished meal. “You had better tell me everything.”

  Jade leaned back in her chair, her hunger sated for the time being. Now, if she could coax a hot bath out of someone, she would be happy to let the brothers’ hash out what was to come next.

  FIRST LIGHT

  The solid silver door Atoi opened for her was what Crystalyn expected to find guarding the chambers of a ranking member of the Circle. Beyond the threshold, an ornately furnished greeting room highlighted the way deeper inside. A man stood near the room’s center, both hands clasped in front of his silken robes of stark white. His lengthy hair and long beard matched the color of his robes, though his tanned complexion and smooth skin suggested he was not much beyond middle-seasoned.

  The white-robed man gestured toward a row of plush chairs lining a set of three, silver-gilded small tables. “Please, select a seat.” The man’s baritone voice was pleasant to hear.

  Crystalyn motioned to Atoi to sit beside her.

  Once seated, the man startled her by clapping his hands together. Crystalyn stiffened. He flashed a quick smile. “I apologize for my abruptness. I have signaled for the chamber servant. Refreshments should be most welcome after your journey. Would you prefer mulled wine or a revitalizer draught?”

  Crystalyn looked to Atoi. “What do you want?” Staring at their host, her young companion didn’t reply, a strange look of anger mixed with fear flickered across her pale face. “Water, or whatever you have in abundance, will be fine,” Crystalyn said when it was obvious no answer would come from her young guide.

  A matronly woman wearing a plain dress strode into the room, her gray hair fixed in a bun.

  “Bring a decanter of both wine and draught. Crumb bread, too, if it’s ready.” Crystalyn’s host said, brusquely.

  The woman’s face tightened, but she gave a small obeisance, and left the room.

  “Now that refreshments are forthcoming, let me introduce myself if you do not already know,” the middle-aged man said, raising a bushy white eyebrow.

  “I don’t,” Crystalyn said. Even though his expression remained neutral after her admission, his lively blue eyes were alert. “I’ve traveled a great distance.”

  “I see. It is of no moment. However, I do know your name, Crystalyn Creek. And, I have followed some of your journey here.” Crystalyn was somewhat surprised, but let it pass. “I am Durandas, First Light of the Circle of Light, a title I have held for many, many years.”

  Crystalyn stared with surprise. He wasn’t just a high-ranking member of the Circle of Light he was the highest. What could he want with her?

  His eyes boring into hers, Durandas let his words penetrate before moving on. “You are likely wondering why I called for a private meeting with you after the Circle refused one, though our definition of private differs greatly, I am afraid,” he said, flicking a quick glance at Atoi.

  “Atoi is her own person and will not leave my side.”

  “Then I may speak frankly before this child?”

  “I know Atoi’s a host to an ancient entity. She’s much more than a child. You may speak your mind.”

  Durandas’ eyes flickered at her declaration. “Very well, I would ask you keep matters mundane until we’ve been served, however. Unlike you, I do not believe I can wholly trust many who call me master or colleague.”

  Crystalyn had no idea what he considered mundane, but she did have matters to discuss, pressing matters. “Is the Circle of Light really too busy to meet with me?”

  Shifting in his seat enough to keep an eye on the door the servant had used, he chose his words with care. “The Circle of Light is…divided. There is some dissension between us that I—we—would not care to reveal to the outside world. Ahhh, here we are,” he said with a smile as the servant woman strode into the room carrying a tray. Plopping the tray on the center table, she reached for a red crystal decanter. Durandas waved her away, pouring the red liquid into cups personally. The servant woman backed away from the table, strolling from the room much slower than when she arrived.

  Crystalyn opened her mouth. She had so much to ask.

  Durandas’ lively eyes swung toward her. “One moment,” he said. Raising his glass, he sipped slowly. Finally, he took a long swallow, setting the glass down with a sharp clink. “A ward is installed on each entrance. Should anyone come close, I will know. We shall be able to speak as we will for a time.”

  Crystalyn wondered how he’d set the wards; the procedure hadn’t been visible to her eye. Perhaps she could achieve the same task with a symbol, but she had too many other questions. “Your politics will have to wait. I only journeyed here at the Lore Mother’s suggestion. How much do you know about me?”

  Durandas smiled. “In part, the Lore Mother is the answer to both your questions. You already know she is capable of a Contacting.”

  “So she’s been in contact with you. How often did this happen?” Crystalyn asked, irritated at herself. How could she be so unobservant?

  “Do not let it concern you too much,” Durandas said quickly, leaning forward. “Three times the Lore Mother performed a Contacting, with only Lore Rayna to assist.”

  Of course, Crystalyn thought. It took them both to reach Jade If they’d reached Jade at all; the viewing had ended almost before it began. Now she wondered if they’d actually attempted a Contacting. Had the Lore Mother staged the whole thing to get her here? Had the Naturists duped her into a perilous journey? She wouldn’t put it past any of them, the three of them kept as many secrets as the Administration’s political faction. “How does the Lore Mother fit in here? She never mentioned a close tie, only that the Circle of Light was my best chance at finding my sister.”

  Durandas sat back on the cushion, his eyes widening slightly. He paused for a few moments, regarding her. “The Lore Mother is my Interrupter; occasionally I have a need to use her... services remotely. The Lore Mother’s power is without peer in her field, which is why she is Second Light on the Circle.”

  Crystalyn was astounded. “Are you saying the Lore Mother can supply you the Flow through a Contacting?”

  Durandas beamed. “That is one way of saying it, a good way. Accomplished by our most talented Interrupters only to a certain extent, it is quite dangerous and not risked often. At least, with most Light Users, it is not. The Lore Mother has always been somewhat arrogant with her ability. Even so, together we make a strong team. We were a powerful duo against the Dark Users during our younger seasons.” His tanned face grew serious. “Alas, age has caught up to her, even though she was the same age as your young companion eternally appears to be when we were first adapted to each other.” He gave a brief nod toward Atoi.

  “Wait! Did I hear right? Did you just say you were a child when you first started Using?” Crystalyn asked. Trying to put together a timeline, her confusion grew.

  “By sweet Onan, no,” Durandas replied, chuckling. “I have limited memories of childhood, which is likely a good thing since I was a vagabond, but that is for another time. Suffice to say, back when the Lore Mother went by her true name, her predecessor still lived. I was not much younger than I am at present. I assumed the Lore Mother had explained at least one of the glaring differences between an Interrupter and a User. Of course, now that I think about it, she is not one to dwell on being out of time—”

  Crystalyn interrupted, beginning to get annoyed. “What are you going on about?”

  Atoi spoke for the first time since entering the room, her voice hollow. “He means that an Interrupter’s frail life is shortened, while a User’s weak life is extended. By the nature of how the Flow conducts through the Interrupter, minute quantities of the Interrupter’s vitality siphons into the User. Some races are able to resist it longer than others, but eventually all Interrupters lifespans are shortened.”

  Surprised at Atoi’s candor, Crystalyn glanced at her companion. Atoi wasn’t staring at her or their host, but at the wall across the room, where a fu
ll-length tapestry hung to the floor. The brooding, but picturesque scene was elaborate with colors that would be at home on a painting.

  Standing, Crystalyn went to it. An enormous gate made from dark stone speckled with gray flecks glinted like granite, spanning a great distance between two walls of a canyon. Pinned to the cliff face above with black iron, three massive doors overlooked the gate and the blighted meadow below.

  Suddenly, weaves of varying color threaded swiftly throughout the tapestry, drawing additions to the scene with chilling detail. White-robed Users flanked three rows of silver-armored soldiers gleaming in the bright sun. The white robes hurled golden comets at a dark-armored army now pouring out of the purple gate so dark, it almost appeared black.

  The doors wove open upon the cliff face. With a splash of dark colors, black and red-robed Dark Users appeared upon the great thresholds in the midst of hurling black cones and red missiles.

  Alone, between the two armies, a youth with a sword at his side, stood holding a staff topped with a crystal that glowed with an azure hue. Something about the youth seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t think what it could be. A spot beside the youth blurred with color.

  Crystalyn choked on a breath. A figure now stood between the two armies. Auburn-haired, the figure was taller than most that battled around her; she wore the same Kell leather as the boy. The young woman had two symbols hovering near her raised, outstretched arms. One white symbol faced the Dark User horde pouring from the gate, while the other, a black symbol, faced the Light Users. Blue eyes life-like and stony, the girl looked toward neither army, staring toward the youth, instead. The symbols she held were beautiful, but unfamiliar to her, though she should know them. The woman’s smooth face was her own.

  “Remarkable,” Durandas said from beside her.

  Crystalyn jumped. “What is this, Durandas? Why didn’t you show me this from the beginning?”

  “I would have bypassed all pleasantries for you to view this, since you seem to be involved in it,” Durandas said, still gazing at the tapestry, “but this was not here when you arrived. I am privileged with a first look.”

  Crystalyn touched the tapestry; it felt soft and warm to her fingers, but an underlying current thrummed through it. “It’s real enough to the touch, what’s supposed to here?”

  “A plaque bearing my family tabard was the only thing adorning this wall. Truly remarkable, I would say,” Durandas said.

  “What does it mean? How did it—?”

  The tapestry faded from the wall, replaced by a plaque with crossed swords behind a great tree supporting a large lizard. The lizard reminded Crystalyn of the glowing, green ones prominent in the desert regions of Lower Realm.

  “Blast them!” Durandas swore. “I should have expected this. I am afraid my wards are not sufficient. We shall have to meet again under better circumstances.”

  “Wait!” Crystalyn said. “What was that? What’s going on?”

  “Someone has stolen the Surbon Codex. It is the only thing that would allow the tapestry to reveal so much. I am one of the two people who would know this. I suspect whoever has it had access to the Dark Oracle or it would never have been located. They must have worked with the Crypt Druids too, though I wasn’t aware their Using had advanced so far.” Durandas said, shaking his now hooded, white head. Crystalyn wondered when he’d put the hood on, and why. “We shall continue our conversation when privacy can be assured. For now, I must meet with the Circle.”

  “Wait!” Crystalyn repeated. “What was that tapestry? Is it the Surbon Codex? Why was I involved in it? What’s a Dark Oracle?”

  “This is not the place for your questions, young one, though I understand your need for answers. I must move with haste. Can you see yourself out? I shall send for you when the time is ours.” Without another word, Durandas hurried through the door.

  Crystalyn shot a glance at Atoi then stormed through the doorway after the First. Durandas was nearly to an intersection in the great hall. “You’re going to the Circle? Why can’t I go with you?” she called after him.

  Rounding a corner, he vanished without a reply.

  Atoi kept the door propped open with a tiny foot. “Should we go through his quarters? We might discover something useful.”

  Crystalyn considered, glancing both ways along the hallway. No one had entered from either direction. She made up her mind. “No, let’s go back to the room. I want to check on Broth and see if Hastel’s back. Checking on the horses shouldn’t have taken very long.”

  In truth, as much as she needed answers, Crystalyn didn’t want to stumble across one of Durandas’ wards. It could be fatal for all she knew about them, and the last thing she wanted was to alienate the Circle of Light. If they wouldn’t aid in her search for Jade, she at least didn’t need them as enemies. Nevertheless, the bloody Circle politics had added a frustrating delay to her growing sense of running out of time. What was so hard about hearing her request? It sounded like Durandas already knew what she was going to ask. Had he already talked to the Circle about it? Was she the reason for the dissension among them? Crystalyn ground her teeth; she didn’t know the answers, and her questions were multiplying at an alarming rate.

  CIRCLE OF LIGHT

  The Assembly Hall for the Circle of Light seemed more an arena than a hall. Leaning back as far as she dared, Crystalyn stared at the unadorned white marble pillars lining both sides of a wide walkway, rising up and up in stoic splendor. Each pillar rose higher than the one before, balancing the great dome overhead. A marvel of ingenuity, the top of each pillar matched the dome’s curvature with precision; she couldn’t tell where the pillar ended and the dome began. Her mind reeled at the enormity of the task of raising the dome and the pillars to support it.

  At her feet, a beautiful golden rug carpeted the floor, providing some cushion. Required to remove their footwear before entering the hall, she flapped along the rug in the low support sandals the steward provided upon request. She’d promptly requested. Now she was glad she had, the hall ran as long as two of Ruena’s warehouses placed end to end.

  “The Circle of Light awaits your esteemed presence,” the gray-haired steward intoned beside her.

  Dressed in a white uniform with a golden sun emblazoned on his chest, the steward was the first person she’d seen not wearing robes since her arrival four days ago. The man had come for her just as she was about to throw another early-morning tirade at the two white-robed guards stationed outside her chambers for her supposed protection. With Broth and Atoi near, and Hastel coming and going, she’d felt safe enough, but her protests were ignored. That is, until the pompous steward had showed up at her chambers.

  The steward spoke in a slow monotone, as if everything he had to say was of the highest importance. “I shall remain behind. The wondrous Circle of Light, highest of all, awaits. Do not delay.”

  Crystalyn nodded for her two companions to follow. The annoying steward hadn’t been happy she’d brought them along. He’d scowled and intoned a feeble protest as they left the room, which she ignored. Her companions were coming, their support helped keep her stable. Letting her volatile anger best her before the bloody Circle of Light wouldn’t do; she was already annoyed to be in a place that didn’t allow animals inside its pristine walls. The Warden wasn’t a beast; he was a dear companion and hailed from a particularly noble race that protected the borders of the White Lands, many times without help from others. Perhaps the Circle knew it; they’d not voiced a word about him, good or bad. No one had. Her annoyance at having to wait, not to mention leaving Ferral at the gate by the bloody Circle of Light’s ordinance, might be coloring her assumptions, but suppose her anger was justified? Either way she was prepared, having taken her dwindling supply of retina meds for the day. Though compressed, the med cylinder would eventually run out. That day was still days away, but she needed to be home before it happened.

  The pillars’ majestic march stalled at a circular pit where they doubled in circumfere
nce before rolling around each side to continue lining the hallways joining from three other directions. Crystalyn made for the large crater in the floor. The circular pit was as large as everything else sheltered under the great dome was; stone benches lined the bottom, and four stairways climbed down to a smooth glass-like floor big enough to race hovercraft around it. A multitude of colored robes sat in the first two rows at the bottom. Without having to ask where to go, Crystalyn began the climb down, her mouth dry. She’d never been any good in front of a crowd.

  Reaching the bottom required several minutes, with most of the hooded heads following their progress. Crystalyn did her best to ignore them, concentrating on the twelve robes seated behind ornate white marble tables widely spaced in a circular formation around the flooring. Crystalyn wondered why they sat so far from each other. The dissension between them must be worse than they wanted the common folk to believe.

  Stepping onto the polished surface, Crystalyn strode to the center where a round, white marble dais resided. She nearly lost her footing when she glanced down. The Flow’s hoary storm raged with all its turbulent glory, below her feet. Lest she be mesmerized, Crystalyn wrenched her eyes from it, her stomach feeling weak like the first twisting plummet on a zip cycle. Whenever she’d flown, she’d found it was better to focus on the destination and not look down. Don’t look down. Nevertheless, the Flow was there. How could she not reach out to it?

  She stepped onto the dais, going to the pedestal. Raised chest high as if blown from the Flow itself, the pedestal formed a clear toadstool, flashing with the brilliance of the Flow. A hollow, clear tube attached like a wheel around the top writhed with the Flow.

  Not knowing what to do next, she looked around. Durandas sat stiffly at a long table, only a moderate horse field away, his white hair and beard providing the only recognition beacon she needed. He made grabbing motions for her to place her hands on the tube, which she did.

 

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