Bridge Beyond Her World

by Brandon Barr

  Despite knowing all this, Aven found that the brain-wiped young man was almost beginning to grow on him.

  Daeymara, her head barely up to Pike’s chest, stood beside him, but her eyes kept turning to Aven. She gave Aven a playful little smile. The wind swept her short, dark hair across her eyes, but she didn’t brush it away.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Aven asked her.

  It was Pike who answered. “Yes, but it’s strange too,” he said. “I feel like I’ve been gone so long from this. From the land. But it’s only been a few days. Funny how that happens.”

  “Yeah,” said Aven, looking at Pike’s peaceful face with conflicting feelings. “I feel that, too, in a way. How was your trip to Zoecara's world?”

  Pike gave him an odd look.

  “You went with her through the portal, right?”

  “Yes. It’s strange though. I don’t remember much. I think it was pleasant.”

  Don’t remember? Aven glanced again at Pike. Had the brain wipe ruined his mind? Arentiss’ world, Birth, stuck out in his mind so vividly, as did Bridge. They were so different than Loam. How could one forget an experience like that?

  “Back to the business at hand,” said Arentiss. “If you purchase a farm, you will have to hire workers, and as a Guardian, you will not have time to oversee them.”

  Aven smiled. If it were not for her uncalloused hands, Arentiss could have passed for a farm girl dressed for a harvest dance. She wore a faded blue dress, tattered at the ends, with lace at the shoulders and back. Without her uniform accentuating her expressionless face, the simple artistry of the dress breathed life into her features.

  Daeymara, despite the cotton dress, did not look like a farm girl. Her cropped hair was so short and cut in such a strange line. It was distinctly different than the long hair that a farm girl wore with pride.

  Behind them stood three soldiers who had been assigned to them when they left the Guardian Tower. After what had happened on Bridge, Karience was taking no chances with their safety.

  “I’ve thought of that already,” said Aven. “I’m going to rent out most of the land. I’ll keep only a small parcel for myself and hire one worker to tend it. That way when I am able, I can come and work it myself, with my dog at my side.”

  He saw a faint smile bend the corners of Arentiss’ mouth. “You want a dog with your farm now. Anything else to add to our errand list?”

  “A sweet wife perhaps,” said Daeymara. “We can arrange that, can’t we, Arentiss? I’m sure you and I would make perfect matchmakers.”

  Aven laughed. The desire to be matched with a good woman ran deep in him. “I appreciate your offer, but a farm and a dog should do for now. Winter will be my matchmaker.”

  Arentiss unfolded her arms and took his hand again. Aven thought he detected a scowl on her face. Pike looked at their hands and seemed both amused and curious, but he had said nothing of it so far. It both irritated, and pleased, Aven that Arentiss had decided to take up hand holding again today. She hadn’t tried it since returning to Loam. But here, now, she’d found his hand again. He enjoyed her touch. Sometimes he rubbed a finger along the side of her hand, and inevitably a little smile would break through her expressionless lips, and her fingers would respond to his with a flourish of strokes.

  She was older than he was, but to his surprise that didn’t bother him. What did bother him was that, where he grew up, hand-holding meant courtship. But he worried that if he told her, she would stop, and he didn’t want that.

  He wondered how the other Guardians would interpret the handholding. What did Daeymara think of it, for instance? The uncertainty made Aven uncomfortable. And worse, he hadn’t gotten around to mentioning it to his sister. Would Pike or Daeymara say something before he could? It would be an insult to Winter, for it was her role to find him a mate now, just as he was to find one for her.

  It was possible that Winter wouldn’t care though. She had fallen into a dark mood ever since returning from Bridge two days ago. He had never known her to be so silent, her face so touched by misery, staring for hours at nothing. He wanted to bring her out here. Back to the familiar soil. Back to her woods and bugs and flowers. He felt the landscape before him held enough healing for the both of them.

  They found the farm hovel at the end of a short path. It was built under the stump of an oak that stood on the edge of a thicket. Set into the side of the stump was a red-tinted window. The woman who owned the farm came out to greet them. She had a face that reminded him of Sky, Harvest’s mother. She invited them down inside her home. The soldiers waited above ground while he, Arentiss, Daeymara and Pike climbed down into the hovel. It was a much larger dwelling than the one Aven had grown up in. The living space was one large circular room at the center, with the other rooms opening off of it. In the middle of the living space a small tree grew, thick green grasses beneath it. The room was lit by light streaming in through the red-tinted window.

  It was so beautiful that the sight stopped Aven in his tracks. No such artistry or adornments had ever graced the farm hovels of the Baron’s land. Beauty such as this was too extravagant for a people scrounging for every coin.

  It was a reminder of his transformed life. He had been taken out of slavery and brought into a new world of freedom and peace.

  Aven looked around the rest of the home, but he’d already made his decision. This was the place for him. From his pocket he took a promissory note that Arentiss and Daeymara had helped him get from the chief merchant banker of the royal exchange. He handed it to the woman. “I was told this was a very fair price for this property,” he said.

  Arentiss whispered, “Don’t you want to look at the other farms for sale?”

  “No. This is the one.”

  The woman’s face lit up when she saw the note. “Thank you. This is a generous offer. My mate will be very pleased.” She signed the document immediately.

  Aven looked around. This was his now. He was suddenly overcome by something he hadn’t felt for a very long time. Hope. Confidence that his dreams were coming into reality and that the future would be stable and secure. A farm was the foundation of life, of self-sufficiency. Working the soil was what he knew, and what he loved. But it surpassed the simple pleasure of labor to him, for accompanying it was the promise of family, of a mate and children, of meals around a table telling stories of the day’s joys and sorrows. The very things his soul longed for.

  Arentiss squeezed his hand, and he almost tapped her a message, forgetting it was not his sister beside him.

  “Do any of your neighbors have whelps for sale?” Daeymara asked the farm woman.

  “Yes,” said Aven. “I’m in need of a dog. On the larger side, but friendly.”

  “They’re planning on lots of children,” said Pike. “They’ll need a breed that won’t mind its tail yanked by the little ones.”

  Aven stared at Pike as if he’d just uttered complete nonsense. Children? Who’s having children? Then it struck him that Pike was insinuating that he and Arentiss were…

  Aven’s face burned.

  He glared at Pike, whose smile faded quickly. Aven remembered Pike as a boy. A boy who loved jokes and pranks and had made Aven and the other neighbor children cry with laughter. Pike was like that boy again. Half of Aven was thankful to have him back. The other half wanted to smack him across his face.

  A calming breath took the edge off Aven’s anger. He told himself it didn’t matter. Pike was harmless now. He needed to remember that. He smoothed away the glare and replaced it with a smile.

  And reminded himself that at this very moment he, Aven, was standing in his very own home.

  Chapter Twenty

  Winter left her quarters for the first time in two days, pushed by a final pendulum swing of determination. She found Rueik and Zoecara in the hallway but stopped only to ask them where Karience could be found.

  While in her room earlier that day, she had fought with herself. The things she’d kept hidden inside were shoute
d into the air with the same amount of emotion that had kept them locked away. Rationality and the absurd were intermixed as she chased every dark thought away with fiery passion.

  “You’re afraid of losing your brother,” she’d jeered at herself out loud. “He’ll die someday whether you’re prepared for it or not. Is that all that matters to you? Safety? A happy life? The Makers promised you pain when they gave you the gift. Are you now too weak to handle it? If Leaf hadn’t saved you from the water, you would be dead. If you hadn’t had the vision of the dead bodies and the smoke, you wouldn’t have set in motion everything that led you to be where you are now. You might have died along with your entire family, trying to escape the Baron’s land. One thing is for certain, you wouldn’t be here, with the Guardians, where it is possible to live out what Leaf called you to do—to crush a Beast under your feet. The portal is at your fingertips. Are you blind to where you’ve been led, as painful as it has been?

  “It’s been joyful too. Don’t forget that! Either trust the Makers with every fiber of your being or forsake your gift and run away to live a normal life.”

  In the privacy of her own quarters, Winter had battled more than just herself. She had warred with the Makers, too.

  “Can I trust you?” she had whispered into the air again and again, the pain and confusion in her own voice jarring to her ears. “I’m drowning all over again. It’s too dark to see. Please. Where are your arms when I need them? If you’re closer than my next breath, then speak to me.

  “Did you kill the Sanctuss? The Consecrators say it was one of you that took her life. I’m trying to understand you, just the same as Sanctuss Voyanta was. She thought you had to be either good or bad. You heard me defending you. Trying to put you on the side of good. But I don’t have the answers. Neither did the Sanctuss when she needed them, when she was still an Oracle. Will it be the same for me? Why do I feel pushed beyond what I can bear? Would you kill me too, if I turn away for lack of guidance?”

  Alone, she’d released everything in her heart. No doubt was left unspoken. No emotion held back.

  Mercifully, these feelings that had raged the past two days had finally calmed, dispelled by the simple creature that faithfully stayed with her.

  As she was wrestling with her doubts and fears, the butterfly was a constant presence, landing in her hair and once on her heart as she was lying on her bed. The insect brought her no small measure of comfort, distracting her with its simple beauty. It was while watching it flutter overhead that Winter saw something for the first time.

  There were patterns on its wings that looked like eyes. She’d sat up, mesmerized, shivers running down her neck and back as she stared at them. It was like a pair of divine, hazel green eyes were looking down on her. She couldn’t fathom how she’d never noticed them before. Were they new, a response from the Makers to her questions? Or were they there all along, but hidden from her until now? Was this Leaf’s way to tell her he was there with her, as loyal as Whisper?

  It was enough for her. Deep down, it was what she wanted. The being that had touched her so long ago was what she needed to be true. Even if the Makers would not speak to her, still they were there, guiding her, not by voice, but by the visions of the seer spirit. And they were good. She believed they were good. Despite everything that had happened.

  And now she knew what she needed to do.

  Winter opened the door and entered the room. Karience looked up from behind a sleek white table. A pen was in her hand, and a pile of parchment was stacked messily beside her. A large window filled one entire wall, the sun pouring through, filling the room with a bright glow. Two walls were lined with paintings, landscapes of Loam, a portrait here and there. A shelf spilling over with books filled the wall behind the Empyrean.

  “You are just what I need,” said Karience. “A distraction from working on this charter! This thing is driving me mad.” She stood and motioned for Winter to join her at the window.

  Winter breathed in the view. The window overlooked the portal. It appeared unguarded, but she knew that wasn’t so. Beyond it was the ocean, blue and green with white foam where the waves were whipped by wind. A large sailing ship glided across the waters heading for the horizon.

  Winter asked, “Have you talked to the Magnus Empyrean about my becoming a Missionary?”

  Karience looked startled. “You are certain of this choice? You’ve only just become an Emissary.”

  “I am certain.”

  Karience turned back to gaze out the window. “In time, it is possible, but…what draws you to become a Missionary?”

  “Reaching new worlds,” said Winter.

  “An Emissary travels to new worlds all the time.”

  Winter stared out at the horizon. “I mean, unprotected worlds. New worlds.”

  “You’ve visited two protected worlds, and on the safest world of all, you were nearly killed by fringe activists. Is that not enough danger for you?”

  Winter sighed. “I’m not seeking danger. Danger finds me wherever I am. It is part of my calling.”

  “And you feel called to be a Missionary.”

  “I believe it will bring me to predestined places where I can do the most good.” Winter looked at Karience and held her eyes on the side of the Empyrean’s face until she turned and met her gaze.

  “I believe the Makers have a Beast for me to kill,” said Winter.

  The Empyrean looked at her in surprise, concern pushing her thin, dark eyebrows together. But her eyes held excitement at Winter’s words.

  “So may I train to be a Missionary?” asked Winter.

  Karience’s gaze broke from hers. “Back on the Relic, when you and Aven first arrived, I told you about the murder of the three Emissaries, but I didn’t finish telling how they were murdered, or by whom.”

  Winter waited as Karience turned to look out the window again.

  “I suspect it was one of us,” said Karience. “A Guardian.”

  Winter wasn’t sure she understood. “You mean someone from a group like Humanity Kind?”

  “No, I mean one of the Missionaries in our enclave.”

  The declaration stunned Winter into silence. If Karience believed a murderer lived among them, why hadn’t she said anything before this? Why let her and Aven walk about unaware?

  “I have my suspicions, and they are only suspicions. The Magnus Empyrean who I report to thinks I am wrong, but he wasn’t an Aftermath Psychologist in his pre-empyrean days as I was. I have good reason to be cautious about sharing this information, but I’ve decided to tell you because I believe you may be able to help. It is not every day you come across a person gifted with visions. Perhaps my saying something will stir the foresight in you.”

  “That is not how my visions work,” said Winter. “Who do you suspect?”

  Karience hesitated only a moment. “I shouldn’t say. I don’t want to give you a false leading. Just know that I suspect one of the Missionaries, and if you experience any visions that might shed light on this matter, tell me immediately.”

  “You told us we were safe as long as we stayed in the Guardians’ quarters.”

  “You are safe. There is no corner that isn’t monitored in these facilities by tiny beetle eyes. That is why the murders took place where they did, at the Royals’ masquerade. It was myself, the three Emissaries, and Rueik who went. By the end of the night, only Rueik and I were still alive. The Emissaries were found dead in the Royal garden, lured out there by one person, I suspect. The local authorities think it was a member of one of the Royal houses. There are many Royals who dislike our presence and wish to drive us from Loam. I am not so certain the authorities are on the right trail, though I haven’t told them so. It’s better, right now, if everyone thinks as they do.”

  “Why do you think the local authorities are wrong?”

  “Because the three Emissaries were found with knife wounds to their hearts, and they think that’s what killed them. What I haven’t told the authorities is that I f
ound trace amounts of a very sophisticated poison in all four bodies—a poison derived from a plant that we haven’t found on Loam. That leads me to think it was one of us. A Guardian.”

  “Why?” asked Winter, unable to digest that one of the five Missionaries she’d met were capable of murder. “Why would a Missionary want to kill anyone?”

  “They would, if they were an assassin for a Beast,” said Karience. “If a Shadowman ever infiltrated our ranks, they could do tremendous damage.”

  Winter pictured each Missionary’s face. None fit her picture of a murderer. But then, maybe that just showed her how trusting she was.

  “Winter, I need your help.” Karience’s eyes were calm, but her smooth, dark face betrayed deep concern.

  Winter nodded. “I already said I would.”

  “You did. But I can see on your face that you’ve recently had a vision. Am I wrong?”

  Winter again saw her brother in the maw of that horrible creature and winced. “No.”

  Karience’s brow narrowed. “Will you share it with me? Please?” The Empyrean’s voice carried desperation. “If you have seen anything—even if it doesn’t seem related—it could mean something to me. It could save lives.”

  Winter’s jaw clenched tight. If she shared what she’d seen, she lost control over it. “I will tell you what I see only if it can help you,” said Winter. “Otherwise, I won’t. It is dangerous for me to share my visions with others. This is a lesson I learned very painfully.”

  “Very well.” Karience sighed and placed her hand on Winter’s shoulder. “No one knows my suspicion except the Magnus Empyrean. Keep everything I have told you to yourself. Do not tell even your brother.”

  “So I will be training with the Missionaries?”

  “I will contact the Magnus. I am hopeful he will give his approval, considering we are in need of one more Missionary to fill Arentiss and Rueik’s team.”

  “The Makers have brought me here for a reason,” said Winter. “If there is a Beast’s follower among us, I might be here to find them out. That is the calling the Makers have given me. To kill a Beast. Rooting out their human followers might be a part of that.”