Bridge Beyond Her World

by Brandon Barr

  He squeezed her hand and watched the corners of her mouth curl up ever so slightly.

  The door to the room opened, and Karience entered.

  “Aven, I am in need of your assistance,” said Karience. “Are you ready for your first duty as an Emissary?”

  Aven let go of Arentiss' hand and stood. “If you believe I’m ready.”

  Karience chuckled. “Considering all you have to do is walk through the portal, I think you are proficient enough.”

  “Who is he taking?” said Daeymara.

  Karience placed a hand on her chest. “He’ll be taking me. I must talk with the Magnus Empyrean on his home world, Core 9. Are you ready to go now, Aven?”

  “Yes,” he said. “How long will we be gone?”

  “A matter of three or four hours,” said Karience.

  Her answer relieved him. He didn’t want to be gone from Winter too long, not in the state she was in. And also, tonight he was going to get his farm. Just the thought made his chest burn with pride.

  Aven walked up to Karience as she turned for the door.

  “May I have permission to come along?” asked Daeymara.

  “And may I also?” chimed in Arentiss.

  Karience pivoted around. “I suppose one of you can join. Arentiss, you accompanied Aven last time, so come along, Daeymara, and quickly. I want this to be a short trip”

  Aven looked back at Arentiss as he passed through the door. Arentiss' gaze was as sharp as an arrow tip. It was aimed with precision at the back of Daeymara’s head.

  CORE

  Chapter Thirty

  DAEYMARA

  It was Daeymara’s first time on Core 9. After following Karience through the portal to her home world, Night 2, they’d gone to Bridge and acquired a Core 9 Emissary to take them to the place they were now.

  Daeymara followed close behind Aven as Karience led the way through the security zones. Core, like all the upworlds, had a wide swath of land cleared out around their portal, which was on the side of a mountain. All the natural growth on the mountain and the surrounding peaks had been exterminated, leaving only barren rock.

  A path led down from the portal to the city rising out of the dense green jungle that covered the land in all directions. Cylindrical spires half as tall as the mountains and plated with windows jutted into the sky.

  The wind on the barren mountainside was strong. Daeymara watched it whip Aven’s short hair about and couldn’t help but wonder what her own hair would look like by the time they reached their destination.

  Aven looked back at her, checking to make sure she hadn’t fallen behind. He gave her a quick smile before turning around.

  His smile was so kind. So strangely kind. And his reservations about sex were…affecting her. The peculiar feelings she had about him excited her. She’d heard about this happening when upworlder’s traveled to primworlds. The unique traits of primworlds—their traditions, their way of life—they often echoed in a primal way within an upworlder’s soul, beckoning them back to a time when their own people had held to such ways of life.

  Loam was the first primworld she’d ever visited, and though she’d been there for well over a year, Daeymara hadn’t found the place especially endearing. At least not until she met Aven and Winter, her first farmers from outside Anantium.

  They were very different from the people who dwelt in the Royal City. People in the city claimed to support monogamous relationships, but she’d seen and heard enough to know that this was mostly a facade. Brothels and prostitutes and mistresses abounded. Infidelity was the norm in both the men and the women, the byproduct of a culture beginning to break free from the old structures of marriage and family.

  In Aven, however, she had glimpsed the genuine thing, something that existed outside the city, in the rural areas. She found it fascinating…attractive even.

  She was on the verge of leaving for her mission. It was less than two months away. She understood herself well enough, the psychological stresses and pressures she was experiencing. Once she, Hark, and Zoecara stepped through the portal, there was no telling where they would arrive or what would happen to them. It was terribly risky. Some of her desire for Aven was surely in response to what the future held.

  Growing up she’d heard so many stories about how the Guardians had saved her world from destruction long ago, after a Beast’s army entered through her peoples’ portal. Even as a child, she’d felt drawn to the Missionaries. They were so few and so crucial. They were needed to find those worlds like Loam, whose people didn’t even know the danger they faced. It was a calling she’d been longing to follow for so long.

  Now this alluring boy walking in front of her was messing with all that, making her question her decision. And she didn’t care. It felt right, what she was thinking. Maybe it was…

  It was strange what a few words from Aven had done to her. She’d wanted a night of exciting sex and companionship. His body was strong and muscular from farm work, and he had such a sweet disposition. She loved his mouth, his eyes, the curve of his jaw. She was sure the sex would have been exhilarating.

  But his words had stirred in her a deeper longing. A longing she had never felt strongly enough to truly consider its possibility.

  Faithfulness. Stability.

  She recalled her question: What do you do when you want to be intimate with someone other than your mate?

  We train our minds not to want that, he had said.

  So you just shut off that desire?

  She remembered the sincerity in his voice when he said, We turn that intimacy toward our mate…

  …a mate for life, as he called it.

  There was something powerful about that statement. The safety that could be found in permanence. Though sexual desire was like an animal, those within Aven’s farm culture were taught to tame it. To concentrate it on one person for life.

  On the cusp of her mission, she found it irresistible. Her culture called Aven’s way a form of bondage. But for the first time, the freedom her people esteemed so highly felt hollow.

  She’d had many thrilling nights in her life, but now she found herself thinking about a home, in the Loamian sense of the word. A place where a family lived together.

  Yes. Her head was not right. The nearness of her mission. The possibility of death. It was just like the psychological case studies that the Missionary training had covered. A heightened need for deep relationships just before the mission. To belong to someone. It was normal to have these odd desires for family, for a home to return to. A cozy farm hovel.

  Maybe she would consider it, if she had more time.

  But then, Aven had been so understanding two nights ago in her bedroom. He might understand this turmoil inside her.

  A simple request came to mind. She hoped he would not say no.

  _____

  AVEN

  “Is my sister still in danger? Is that why you’re meeting with the Magnus Empyrean?”

  Karience gave Aven a reassuring look. “That is part of why we’re meeting. As far as any danger your sister is in, I believe she is safe while she is on Loam.”

  Core, as Karience called this world, was a place Winter would have adored. Aven had never seen such lush, dense forests in his life, if they could be called forests. Jungle was the term the VOKK gave to it. Ferns and large flowery plants covered the ground outside the paths that led from building to building.

  After descending the mountain, they’d entered the city, which seemed intertwined with the jungle itself. Ancient trees with thick trunks rose alongside buildings of glass. Vines with pink and red flowers hung down from the trees and laced over the buildings.

  Karience stopped in the shadow of a tall building, its top seeming to reach out of sight into the sky above.

  The courtyard they stood in was full of movement. People hurried in and out of the massive building. With only a few exceptions, they had sun-darkened skin and wore little clothing. With how much clothing he wore and his lighter ski
n, Aven felt that he stood out, while Karience seemed to fit right in.

  “Wait there,” said Karience, pointing at a fountain in the middle of what looked like a garden carved out of the jungle. “I shall meet you there. Hegelion is a busy man. I doubt I will be long.”

  Karience joined the throngs entering the sky-tall building, and Aven found himself alone with Daeymara amidst the frantic flow of people rushing by.

  “I’ll lead the way,” said Aven.

  Daeymara nodded and grinned. “And I’ll gladly follow.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  KARIENCE

  The moment she entered, Higelion rose from his seat at a large rectangular table. Eight others stood at his lead.

  “Ah, Karience! So glad you’re here, safe.” He turned to the others. “Please excuse us. I must have a word with my Empyrean from Loam.”

  Karience bowed her head. “Magnus Empyrean, it is good to see you.”

  As soon as they were alone, Higelion moved close and briefly took Karience’s hand in welcome. “Tell me, how are you? I heard all that happened. Remarkable…and terrifying.”

  “My fondness for Bridge will never be the same, but I am fine.”

  Higelion’s face was pocked with deep shadows where a childhood disease had left scars. Lines of concern cut through his marred features, and his eyes looked troubled.

  “How is the Oracle?”

  Karience frowned. “She is doing as well as one might expect. However, I know you’ve kept a beetle feed going on her, so I might ask you the same question. How is Winter?”

  Karience found the continued use of a beetle feed distasteful. Studying Winter as if she were a disease that needed a cure. The girl was sincere and open, and Karience wanted nothing more than for the young woman to be left alone.

  Higelion shrugged. “The Oracle seems unstable. And why shouldn’t she be? She inadvertently killed a Sanctuss.”

  Karience heard how easily the word Sanctuss rolled off of Higelion’s tongue.

  “Why didn’t I know about the Consecrator’s order before Winter joined us?” said Karience.

  “Many Empyreans do not know of them. They are few, and they only exist to help the occasional Oracle that we come across.”

  “You say Winter is unstable. What do you mean by that?”

  “That is the word the Consecrators used. They are the ones observing her feed. They feel she is struggling with her trust in the gods. And this is good. They will be sending a Sanctor and his apprentice to you in five days. At the very least, they will help put Winter at ease, and, if all goes as hoped, they will free her from the grip of the Makers.”

  Karience had never come to a personal conclusion as to whether the gods were cruel or simply indifferent. But having her life spared because of the gift they had given Winter had made her think about it more than ever before. She found herself quite grateful toward them at present. Something about Higelion’s certitude on the matter gave her pause. He clearly was not undecided on the issues regarding Oracles. Why the need to remove the gift? What did they fear?

  She would find other, less direct, ways to ask her questions.

  “I strongly urge you to move the Consecrator’s visit back. Give Winter time to work through this issue on her own. I don’t think pushing her into another interview with a Consecrator is good for her right now. Five days is far too soon.”

  “I’m afraid that is out of my control,” said Higelion. “Your Oracle’s case is under the direct review of one of the Sentinels.”

  Karience stared at Higelion in surprise. One of the three Sentinels was taking a personal interest in Winter? It couldn’t be. It made no sense. How could this girl from Loam be of such importance as to bypass the authority of the eighty Magnus Empyreans and then even the ten Arbiters?

  “Why?” she demanded, concern spilling over into her voice.

  Higelion closed his eyes. “What I am about to tell you is of such a confidential nature that you must swear never to repeat it.”

  “I swear,” said Karience.

  Higelion’s heavy brows lifted, and he sighed. “Loam is part of an ancient prophecy called the Contagion. It has to do with three worlds that make up what is called the Triangle. Loam’s sun is one of the Triangle’s equilateral points. Hearth’s sun is another. And there is a third, unknown star, that completes the Triangle. The stars together form the head of the spear within the Huntress constellation.”

  “Since when do the Guardians concern themselves with prophecies?”

  “Since the beginning, Karience. All the way back to our origins. But that is another matter. We pay attention to prophecies because they tell us things that are true. The gods may have largely abandoned our galaxy, but they have not left it without their fingerprints. Oracles, prophecies, the portals—they are remnants of the gods’ design. If we ignore them, it is to our own peril, for the Beasts know of their importance. We fear they may even know of the Triangle.”

  “So what is the Triangle?”

  “A portal unlike any other. According to the Consecrators, this portal leads outside our galaxy, to one of the other seven.”

  Karience realized how hard her heart was pounding. She took a long breath. “That truly is amazing. How does it work?”

  “I haven’t been told. If it is known, it is being kept secret.”

  “I have been the Empyrean on Loam for twenty-eight years. Is there anything else I should know about the world I am trying to charter?”

  Higelion frowned. “I’m sorry to leave you feeling betrayed. I was not given liberty to discuss these matters until they became relevant.” He looked at her apologetically. “Karience, believe me when I say that you know everything now. As much as I do, at least.”

  “I understand, Magnus,” said Karience, turning her mind toward other matters she’d been wanting to discuss. “What of my concern about the Emissaries’ murders? Have you brought the matter before an Arbiter?”

  “Yes, and you likely wouldn’t care for their response.”

  “What was it?” asked Karience flatly.

  Higelion shrugged. “They still believe the Beasts are incapable of infiltrating our order. And, honestly, I have to agree.”

  “Why?” demanded Karience. “The psych tests?”

  “In part,” said Higelion.

  She wanted to growl. Before becoming an Empyrean, she’d been a non-combatant psychologist on two Aftermath teams. After the Annihilation forces had finished their work, the Aftermath teams were given years on each world to study the methodology employed by the Beasts to train their Shadowmen and build their bizarre societies. She’d read case studies from several dozen worlds, and a consistent pattern emerged between them and the two worlds she’d studied personally.

  The Beasts had two goals. First, consume or destroy other Beast worlds and slay the opposing master.

  Second, infiltrate the Guardian order.

  The Beasts knew that if they could get inside the Guardians, they could gain a level of power beyond anything they could manage alone.

  “It is only a matter of time until a Beast infiltrates us,” said Karience. “That is, if it hasn’t occurred already. We are underestimating our enemies’ determination and intelligence.”

  “There are many safeguards in place, Karience. Perhaps the years you spent studying those twisted Beast-controlled civilizations have skewed your perspective.” Higelion raised his hands, as if to ward off her anger. “Besides the psych tests and the beetle feeds, and the carefully scrutinized worlds that we draw our members from, there is also the memory probing done during the VOKK implant. No matter how good one is at lies, there is no hiding the truth within your own mind. We know, intimately, every member’s history, down to the very bones of who they are and who they’ve been. Their repressed memories. Their darkest transgressions and deeply buried regrets. The human mind is our safeguard, Karience. A locked door without a keyhole.”

  A memory came to Karience from one of the Beast worlds she’d b
een to. An entire library dedicated to the study of the mind, complete with dissection tables, where both dead and living humans had been found strapped down and gagged when the Guardians forces arrived.

  It was through the mind of a man that the Beasts gained control. Turned men into their Shadows.

  The mind was the very thing they were eager to conquer. And there, in that library full of bodies and books, scrawled in dried blood on one of the walls was the phrase:

  Close the minds of the children, send our seed to the stars. Bow your thoughts to the master, the Guardians know not who you are.

  “If a Beast is not responsible for the murders, then who is? I told you about the strange poison I found.”

  Higelion sighed, “We’ve been over that. Loam is a primworld, still unexplored. Just because the local rulers you talked with are not aware of this species of plant doesn’t mean some haven’t discovered it and learned of its deadly use. By the stars! Your entire world is abounding in woodlands. There’s no certainty this poison doesn’t exist on Loam. Let us consider the matter closed for now. Stay vigilant, of course, but I believe the investigative reports from the Royals are entirely satisfactory. The heavens know you have enough disgruntled Royals within the quorums who despise the charter. Don’t give them further reason to dislike us by continuing to investigate murders that have been closed.”

  Karience felt dispirited by the Empyrean’s dismissal.

  “One last thing before you depart,” said Higelion. “I may have allowed Winter to begin training with the Missionaries, but if she is going to become a Missionary in full, she must be delivered and renounce her gift as an Oracle. Let her know this. It may help her make the right decision when the Sanctor and his apprentice arrive.”