by BC Powell
“When Krymzyn brings a Teller here,” Eval answers, “time is suspended for them on their plane. Only moments pass in your world, but Krymzyn keeps a Teller here for as long as is needed for us to learn of balance on their plane. It would be unfair to deprive a Teller of time in their world, and as I told you before, Tellers are typically asleep or in a state of meditation when they depart their world. When you’re not here, the amount of time that passes on all planes, although methods of measurement may be different, is the same.”
“So Krymzyn can just alter time in my world?” I ask.
“Krymzyn created time, so it can manipulate it as it chooses.”
I have to let that sink in for a few seconds before deciding that it makes enough sense to move on to questions that are more important to me. “What exactly is sap?” I ask, looking back and forth between Eval and Tork.
“That which sustains us,” Eval replies.
“I’d like a more detailed answer, please,” I say.
Eval and I maintain eye contact, neither of us blinking or looking away. She seems to be prying into my mind, attempting to assess where this conversation is going.
“Sap is energy,” she finally says, the word “energy” taking a long time to translate. “Energy in its purest form. Without sap, nothing exists.”
I actually scratch the back of my head in a cliché reaction, not sure I grasp her meaning. “What do you mean ‘nothing’?”
“The word means what the word means,” Eval says sternly.
“You mean nothing in Krymzyn?”
“I mean nothing,” Eval says, “anywhere. Sap is energy that allows all other forms of energy to exist.”
I nod, slowly accepting her answer, and phrasing my next statement in my mind. “I have something in my world called a tumor,” I say, noticing that when I talk to someone other than Sash, certain words don’t translate again. “It grows on my brain and will probably kill me soon. If I’m wounded in Krymzyn, sap heals me and the wounds aren’t there when I go back to Earth. While I’m in Krymzyn, I don’t feel any of the effects of my tumor. As soon as I’m back on Earth, I feel them again.”
“Sap has great healing power,” Eval replies. “It can’t return you from death, but as long your brain is functioning, sap will revive your body. It’s far too powerful to exist on any other plane where perfect balance isn’t a constant, so its effects are only evident on this plane.”
“So when I drink sap, it has no effect on me anywhere but here?” I ask.
“You’ll only feel the effects of sap while in Krymzyn, and any injuries from your plane won’t travel here with you.”
“But if I die in my world while I’m in Krymzyn, I’ll still live here, won’t I?” I ask.
Eval glances at Sash then returns her eyes to me. “Sash must have told you the story of the Teller South,” she says.
“She did,” I reply.
“As was the case with South, you’ll still be alive in Krymzyn if you’re here when you meet death on your plane.”
I slowly look up to the sky, to the motionless gray clouds and stunning beams of light. I feel more aware here, more alive, than I’ve ever felt on Earth. When I’m with Sash, the part of me that I always felt was missing in my world is suddenly found. Maybe fate isn’t executing a vicious practical joke on me. Maybe I’m being given an opportunity to live in the way I was meant to.
I’ll miss my family more than I can even imagine, and I know I’ll feel terrible loneliness at times without their love and support in my life. I doubt I can replace my close friends, especially Connor, with anyone in Krymzyn. And I don’t want to hurt the people I care about.
But if I go out the way Davis did, none of that will matter anyway, and the suffering of people I love will be prolonged. My one chance to be with Sash, to feel complete, is in front of me now. The people who truly care about me would want me to seize that opportunity.
Every event in my life since I was twelve has brought me to this moment. Everything that’s happened to me, that I’ve experienced, has evolved in a way to help me freely make the decision I’m about to make. I lower my face from the sky and stare directly into Eval’s eyes.
“I want to live in Krymzyn,” I say calmly. “I want to find out if I have a purpose here.”
“Why do you want this?” Eval asks.
I quickly try to construct some Krymzyn response in my head full of words like balance, honor, and gratitude. Instead, I say exactly what I feel inside.
“I belong with Sash. If I belong with Sash, then I must belong in Krymzyn.”
“Do you fear your own death on your plane?” Eval asks softly. “Is that the reason you want to stay here? Just to save your own life?”
“My tumor will probably kill me in my world, but it might not,” I reply. “Either way, I won’t return to Krymzyn. If I’m healed, I’ll have to live the rest of my life on Earth wondering what might have been. I think that would be worse than death.”
I see the strangest thing I’ve ever seen in Krymzyn—and I’ve seen more than my share of strange things. The corners of Eval’s lips curl up slightly into an approving smile.
“You’ve gained an understanding of balance,” Eval says. Her expression returns to stoic when she turns to Sash. “How do you respond to the statement by Chase?”
“I belong with Chase,” Sash says, her voice rich with passion.
For the second time I’ve noticed—the first was when I was seventeen—Sash and Eval share an unspoken communication for several seconds. Eval finally breaks their gaze and looks at me.
“I don’t believe,” Eval says, “that you were ever meant to be a Teller. But to dwell permanently on this plane, you must have a purpose in Krymzyn. If you enter the Ritual of Purpose and have none, you’ll meet death here and on your plane.”
“I understand. I don’t think I was meant to be a Teller either, so I must have another purpose here. I hope so anyway, but I’ll take that chance.”
Eval’s eyes glaze over for a moment in faraway thought, like she’s remembering something from long ago. She refocuses on the present when she speaks. “Prior to a child of Krymzyn reaching the height of purpose, they each stand in the Reflecting Pool inside the Mount. Questions are answered for them as they look into the waters of the Pool, questions they may not even know exist. I would suggest, prior to making your final decision, you travel to the Mount and visit the Pool. If, after doing so, you still wish to seek a purpose, then you may ask Krymzyn for the sign.”
“Whatever I have to do, I’ll do.”
“Upon your next arrival, a Traveler will take you to the Mount.” Eval’s eyes move to Sash. “Since you and Chase are in this journey together, you’ll also accompany Chase to the Mount. You should be with him when he looks in the Pool.”
Sash tilts her head down to the ground and a sudden, unmistakable look of sadness washes over her face. I can’t figure out why she’s reacting this way.
“I will,” Sash quietly replies, her eyes never leaving the grass.
I feel dizzy and stagger when all of my muscles clench at once. Sash steps to me, reaching a hand out as I fall backwards.
* * *
I fell hard onto the wooden bench. The seizure convulsions must have been powerful enough to lift me out of my seat. When the shaking ended, I tried to relax my muscles and looked around the empty courtyard.
Why had the talk of the Reflecting Pool upset Sash so much? The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t understand why her expression had changed so dramatically.
I rubbed my temples and sat quietly on the bench. I’d made my decision and it was final. Sitting for an hour in the courtyard, I planned the steps I’d have to take on Earth to turn that decision into reality.
Chapter 23
“Hi, Mom,” I said when she answered the phone that night.
“Chase, how are you, baby?” she replied.
“I’m good, Mom. I want to let you know that I’m finishing up a big project at wo
rk this week and can take next week off. I may have to make a few design changes during the week, but I can use my laptop. I was thinking, since Ally’s going to be in town, I’ll just stay there for the week.”
“Oh, that’ll be great!” Mom said happily. “Your dad and I are both taking a few days off, so maybe we could all go to the beach one day.”
“I’d like that,” I replied. “Hey, Mom, can I ask you something kind of personal?”
“Of course,” she said.
“You know, a lot of my friends’ parents got divorced over the years, and you and Dad always managed to stay together. How’d you guys do it?”
“A lot of hard work, Chase,” my mom laughed.
“Seriously, Mom. How’d you know Dad was the one for you?”
After a brief pause, she spoke in a voice filled with warm affection. “I knew I belonged with him, and he knew he belonged with me very early in our relationship. We were just lucky that way. Not everyone feels that, Chase, but it’s important to recognize the difference between belonging with someone and belonging to someone. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, it does,” I said. “Like Jess wanted me to fit her vision for who I should be, not just let me be who I am.”
“Exactly,” Mom replied. “When I met your dad, I felt complete. I felt better with him than without him. It’s an overused term, but I felt a connection with him that I didn’t feel with anyone else. We just bring each other, I don’t know . . . I guess you’d call it balance.”
“Interesting word choice,” I said under my breath.
“It doesn’t mean it’s not a lot of hard work, because it is. You always have to try to make time for each other and not so much remember how you felt when it was all new and exciting, but make sure you still feel those things as you move forward in life. People change, Chase, and you have to evolve with your partner. You have to support their changes. That’s what your dad and I do, anyway.”
“You know what, Mom? You’re pretty smart sometimes.”
“Thanks for finally recognizing that,” she said sarcastically. “Did you meet somebody new?”
“Yeah, I did. Well, I’ve kind of known her for a while. But it’s a long-distance thing, so we’ll see what happens.”
“I can’t wait to hear about her.”
“Let me ask you one more thing,” I said. “Would you have moved halfway around the world to be with Dad?”
I listened to silence on the phone for a few seconds before I heard her voice again. “Yes, I would have. Is that question related to the long-distance thing?”
“I don’t know yet. I just wanted to ask what you would’ve done.”
“If you leave Los Angeles, we’ll miss you,” Mom said without hesitation. “But I’d be much more upset if you missed your chance for happiness with someone.”
“Thanks, Mom. That means a lot to me. I’ll be over Saturday night, and plan on me being there all week.”
“I’ll get your room ready, and your studio is still out back if there’s any work you need to do.”
“There’s actually a painting I’m working on. Kind of a fantasy thing, but I’m doing it on canvas, not digitally.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” she replied.
“Not until it’s done,” I said, for two reasons.
I didn’t like anyone to see a painting I was working on until it was finished, especially this one. But I also wanted a private escape if a severe headache came on during the week. Headaches didn’t always result in seizures, but seizures never started without a headache first. I didn’t want my family to know what was going on with me.
“Yeah, baby. I know how you are about those things,” Mom chuckled.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, Chase. See you Saturday.”
I hung up the phone, picked up the electronic pen, and returned to painting at my digital tablet. The company I worked for, needless to say, understood my need for a medical leave of absence. Since I didn’t want to drive but wanted to finish the video game designs I was almost finished with, I decided to work my apartment for the remainder of the week.
As each day passed, at least half of my waking hours were spent painting the picture I’d mentioned to Mom. It was something deeply personal to me that I wanted to leave for my family if I ended up in Krymzyn. Or, if for a number of reasons, my life suddenly ended.
When Friday night came, a half-eaten pizza by my side, I finished the last video game composite. After uploading it to our company server, the dull headache I’d felt for several hours abruptly seared through the veins in my head. I frantically clicked “record” on the camera built into my laptop and slid my chair back, wanting to know what I looked like during a seizure.
* * *
Sash, a spear slung over her shoulder, stands halfway up the hill, looking in my direction when I arrive. The shirt she’s wearing has long sleeves and a crew neck—the same black material as all the clothing here but not the usual sleeveless style. A peek down at my own arms reveals that I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt as well.
“Good timing,” I say as I walk down the hill.
“I’ve stayed near the Empty Hill to be here when you arrive,” she replies flatly.
The melancholy haze that showed up as soon as the Reflecting Pool was mentioned still surrounds her face. Every moment since my last visit, the possible reason for that expression had been gnawing at me.
I stop in front of her. “Why were you so upset about the Reflecting Pool?” I ask.
Sash lowers her eyes to the ground and silently stares at the grass. No one is capable of lying in Krymzyn. Maybe the Murkovin, but not the others here. They simply don’t answer when they don’t want to lie to you or spit out an answer that isn’t really an answer, just a rearrangement of the words in your question.
I reach my hands out and rest them on her waist. “Sash, I love you no matter what. Are you sure you want me here?”
She looks up into my eyes. “More than anything,” she says, “but you may not understand the questions asked in the Pool or want the answers given.”
“Then why does Eval want me to go?” I ask.
“She protects all of Krymzyn, including me,” Sash says.
“Protects you from what?”
“Answers you may not understand.”
I’m more confused now than when the conversation started. “Sash, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. What are these questions?”
“They’re different for each person who stands in the Pool,” she replies.
I quickly realize that she’s not going to give me a more specific answer. “Then I guess we should get going and see what happens.”
Sash drops her spear to the ground, slips her arms around my waist, and pulls me close.
I whisper in her ear. “Nothing can change the way I feel about you.”
“Nor I,” she says in return, holding me in her arms.
“The necessity for physical contact in your greeting customs is quite strange,” I hear Tork’s voice say from behind me.
Sash and I release our grasp on one another, and I turn to Tork. He holds out a black length of rope with steel clasps on the ends and a brushed-metal flask hanging from the center.
“Is that for me?” I ask.
“I’ve brought you sustenance to take with you on your journey,” he answers.
After taking the rope from him, I fasten it around my waist. He unclips his own flask and hands it to me.
“You should consume the contents of this flask now for your travel,” Tork says.
“Thank you, Tork,” I reply. “I really appreciate this.”
I drink the sap, instantly feeling the surge of strength spread through my muscles. When I hand the flask back to him, he focuses on something over my shoulder, and I turn to follow his eyes.
Three bodies of light sail over the top of the next hill, cross the valley, and stop in front of us. Larn, Tela, and another female Traveler all nod to
me. The woman I haven’t met before is about my height, a black-and-blue braid falling down her back, and trim but muscular with beautifully sharp features cast in a slender face. All three hold spears in their hands, black long-sleeved shirts covering their arms.
“Larn, Tela, and Miel will aid you in your journey,” Tork says.
Miel and I quickly bow to one another.
“What’s up with the long sleeves?” I ask the group around me.
“Protection, should Darkness occur while you’re on the Mount,” Tork answers.
“Protection from what?”
“Steel trees, if they become aware,” he says.
I decide not to pursue that line of questioning for now. I’ll wait until we’re on the Mount to learn what I need to about steel trees.
“I’ll transport you,” Larn says to me. “We’ll be traveling much faster than we did crossing the Delta.”
“I can’t wait to travel again,” I excitedly reply.
“You should know,” Larn says grimly, “we’re always at risk of Murkovin attacking us in the Barrens, especially if Darkness falls. They can reach great speeds, although rarely can they keep pace with Travelers.”
“Can they blend their light?” I ask.
“Some are able to do so due to the amount of sap they drink,” Larn replies. “But the decrease of available light during Darkness greatly slows our traveling speed.”
“What do we do if they attack?”
“We’ll try to outrun them, but we’ll fight if needed,” Larn says.
“You have sap in your blood now,” Tork adds with a grave expression on his face. “As Eval once told you, they sometimes try to drink our blood for the sap inside. Do whatever you must to defend yourself.”
I’m sure my face shows obvious concern at Tork’s warning. I involuntarily clench my muscles as I remember the phenomenal strength of the Murkovin I fought. Sash, probably seeing my reaction, rests a hand on my shoulder.
“We’ll be safe,” she says softly to me.
