A Traveler's Fate (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 3)

by BC Powell

  She stared at the vines falling over the Canyon’s edge in the distance, mesmerized by the rich color of their flowers. She imagined a world filled with vibrant hues, not the drab black and grays of the Barrens. A world where she didn’t need to be ready to defend her existence with every breath she took.

  While the music caressed her ears, she let herself feel peace. She laid her spear by her side, leaned back to the dirt, and rested the back of her head on her folded hands. As she gazed at the barrier to the Infinite Expanse, the serenade of colors waving across the faraway sky, her eyes began to droop. Her mind drifted into a tranquil state and she soon fell asleep.

  She never heard the footsteps climbing up the hill behind her. By the time she opened her eyes, two male Murkovin were already standing over her. She tried to jump to her feet, but one of the men grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her back to the ground. While he pinned her to the dirt, the other brute gripped her arms in his rough, calloused hands. After he bound her wrists with rope, the first man crawled on top of her body.

  Squirming on the ground, she tried to buck him off. The man who had tied her wrists together fired a fist to her face. The man on top of her forcefully clenched a handful of her hair in one hand while groping at the waist of her pants with the other.

  “You belong to us now!” he hissed. “You’ll do our bidding, or we’ll beat you until you do.”

  Without the slightest sound betraying its arrival, the tip of a spear ripped into the back of the beast’s head. As the Murkovin’s body collapsed on top of her, his blood splattered on her face. A foot swung over her. With a sharp crack, it crushed the nose of the creature holding her wrists. The same weapon that had killed the first of the brutes then split open the skull of the second.

  She looked up at a tall, weathered man standing over her. His face was square and strong, and his hair cut short enough that it stuck straight up from the top of his head. Across one of his cheeks, a thick scar ran from the corner of his mouth to his ear. Rigid muscles bulged from his shoulders and arms. She trembled from the gruesome thought that he’d killed the other two so that he could take their place.

  The man leaned down and grabbed the hair of the dead creature on top of her body. After hurling the beast away from her, he knelt by her side. To her surprise, he freed her wrists from the rope, helped her sit upright, and then stood up again.

  “Never sleep in the open,” he chastised in a low, gravelly voice.

  Without saying another word, the tall Murkovin turned away. Fresh blood still dripped from the tip of his spear as he stepped down the hill. The girl rose to her feet and wiped the blood off her face.

  “I’m grateful for your help,” she called out.

  He stopped and turned to her. “Be more careful in the future. You should know better than that.”

  “Why did you come to my aid?” she asked.

  He aimed his eyes at the corpses by her feet. “Like you, I’ve had people I care about killed by men like them.”

  “How do you know what’s happened to me in the past?”

  He returned his attention to her. “My cavern is a few hundred miles west of yours. I often travel through your area. I’ve seen you from a distance many times over thousands of morrows. I saw that you buried your Ovì and hung two bodies from a tree. It wasn’t hard to figure out what must have occurred. If I’d been nearby when it happened, I would have helped.”

  “I’ve never seen you,” she comments.

  “That’s why I’m so tall,” he says. “No one sees me unless I want to be seen.”

  She instantly realized that not only could she learn much from this man, but she could also trust him with her life. “How did you happen to be here now?”

  “I saw you travel through my territory. When you were far to the west, I saw two streaks from the north follow your trail. My guess was, whoever they were, they were up to no good. I have no patience for their kind and don’t tolerate their existence.”

  “I owe my life to you,” she said.

  “You owe me nothing. But let this be a lesson to you. Always stay alert.”

  “I know,” she replied. “I just wanted a few moments of . . . I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

  The man knowingly nodded his head. “If you ever need me for something, you now know the area where I dwell.”

  He turned away and sprinted down the hill. After streaming into the light at the bottom of the slope, he vanished into the Barrens.

  Over the next few morrows, she found several large branches that had recently been torn from trees. Using a saw blade made out of hard, narrow rock that had once belonged to her Mür, she cut the branches into six separate foot-long logs. With another sharp rock, she hollowed them out to make wooden urns.

  Using pumice stones that her Ovì had long ago gathered from the banks of the river, she meticulously sanded the insides until they were as smooth as marble. After cutting round tops for the urns, she used a steel knife that had been stolen during a raid on Travelers to cut grooves in the urns and tops.

  Once she was confident that the lids would screw on tight, she chipped away at the latticed shale in the ceiling of her cavern and filled her hands with the thick sludge left behind by grubs. Rubbing it on the insides of the urns, she glazed the wood so that it would no longer absorb liquid.

  As soon as the next Darkness fell, she used her spear to open several holes in the trunk of a tree and filled the urns with sap. She could have used the older urns that she and her Ovì had made long ago, but the new ones would bring a better price.

  Carrying the six sap-filled urns in a crudely woven backpack, she traveled several hundred miles to the north. On top of a hill, she spotted a two-foot-high mound of rocks with a dead tree branch sticking out of it. She’d never been to one of the trading posts scattered across the Barrens before. Her Ovì had once told her where this one was located and how to recognize it. After circling once around the hill, she came to a stop in front of a large, oblong rock with a flat top.

  Her Ovì had explained the rules for bartering at trading posts, as well as what items could be had. Fabric woven from wooden looms, tables and stools made of wood and smoothed with grub slime as she’d done with the urns, tools crafted out of rock or Murkovin bone, or as much sap as a person could want were all available for the right price. But items made in the Delta and stolen from raids on Travelers always had the greatest value.

  Hoping they would have what she sought, she placed the six urns on top of the stone. She knew that she’d be safe during the transaction and her items wouldn’t be stolen. The men and women who ran the trading posts earned enough for the things they bartered to keep plenty of everything for themselves. Without a good reputation, no one would ever return to that post again.

  As she glanced at the hilltops around her, she assumed there were eight or ten of her kind hiding nearby. She also knew they’d all be armed and as skilled as any in the Barrens at wielding spears. When no one appeared, she loudly called out the name of the item she hoped to acquire.

  From behind the rocky crest, a male voice shouted, “They’re difficult to come by. The cost will be ten.”

  “I just made these urns,” she hollered. “They’re full of sap.”

  “The cost is still ten,” the voice replied.

  She looked down at the wooden canisters, angry with herself for not better estimating the cost. After considering her options, she laid down her steel spear beside the urns. Because it had belonged to her Ovì, it was difficult to part with. None the less, she was determined to leave with what she wanted.

  “I’ll add the spear,” she yelled. “Give me a sturdy wooden one in return.”

  While waiting for a response, her eyes roamed across the hills again.

  “We have a bargain,” the voice yelled.

  As her Ovì had told her to do after a bargain had been struck, she stepped five paces backwards. Two men climbed over the top of the hill and walked down the slope. Several other men an
d women appeared from behind large boulders far off to her sides.

  When the two men reached the rock, one of them picked up her spear and the urns. He checked to make sure all the wooden containers were full of sap. The other man stood by the stone, keenly watching the hills behind the woman in case this was a trick of some kind. The first man finally whistled loudly, the signal to complete the barter. Another Murkovin ran down the hill with the item she’d requested in hand, as well as a wooden spear. After tossing them to the stone, all three of the men took several steps backwards.

  She removed her items from the rock, nodded to the men, and then sprinted away. Only when she was out of their sight did she fuse with the light around her. But instead of returning to her cavern, she went straight to the area where the tall Murkovin dwelled.

  For a quarter of the morrow, she stood in plain sight on top of a high hill. The tall Murkovin eventually appeared in a nearby valley and ran up the slope underneath her. As soon as he stopped in front of her, she held out both of her hands. Resting on top of her palms was the item she’d bartered for.

  “What is this?” he asked, looking down at her outstretched arms.

  “Repayment for saving my life,” she replied. “A head on top of a body as tall as yours deserves a soft pillow to sleep on.”

  The man knew the pillow must be pillage from a raid on Travelers. He was also well aware that it would command a high price at a trading post. Instead of being made of coarse cloth and filled with leaves like those of the Barrens, this one was created with smooth, well-sewn fabric and stuffed with the billowy fluffing that only grows in the Delta.

  “I need no repayment,” he said. “Take it back.”

  She shook her head. “It’s too late. The bargain has been struck.”

  From the look of deep appreciation in his eyes, she realized that this was probably the only act of kindness he’d known in a very long while. Also at that moment, she learned that a show of compassion could be as powerful as a spear in the strongest of hands.

  From that morrow on, the two often spent time together. Over many morrows of practice, he improved her fighting skills until they were as keen as his. After she met the Watcher of the Delta who became the Mür of her child, she shared with the tall Murkovin the steel stakes, rope, and other items that the Watcher brought to her from the Delta.

  As more time went by, the tall Murkovin sat with her and the Watcher many times while listening to plans to overthrow the Delta. She knew he disliked the Watcher, but he always agreed with the changes they hoped to bring to the Barrens.

  The woman looks down from the sky at the tall Murkovin. “Can you take me to where you last saw the Traveler?”

  “Of course,” he answers. “She’s in a cavern far south of the desert, almost at the edge of the Expanse. I’m curious why you want to see her.”

  “I’ve spoken with her before. There’s something inside her that wants to be let out. If she’s planning a life in the Barrens, she can be helpful to us in several ways.”

  “When do we leave?” he asks.

  “As soon as we can,” she answers. “I just want to say goodbye to my child first.”

  “I’ll fetch canisters for us.”

  After he turns away, the woman hurries in the direction of her habitat. As much as it pains her to be away from her child so often, it can’t be avoided—especially when an opportunity like this one arises.

  As I thought it might, the woman thinks as she briskly walks, my first encounter with the Traveler appears to have been more than a coincidence. She’ll have a reason to trust me because of the peaceful demeanor I displayed when we first met. I can now provide her with safety in the Barrens and utilize her skills for my own needs.

  Not only can she help me teach others to travel, but she can also tell me many things about the Delta and the people who dwell there. I’ve learned much from the stories the Mür of my child has told me, but his views are tainted.

  I’ve learned over time that knowledge is power. The more I have, the stronger I’ll be in the end.

  Chapter 24

  Despite the staggering guilt I feel, I can barely contain my excitement as Sash and I zoom to Home. After morrows and morrows of mental torment in the Barrens, all I want now is to feel my daughter in my arms.

  When Sash and I come out of our blends in the red meadow in front of Home, Kyra is already waiting for us with Aven by her side. Aven squeals with delight as I sprint across the field. Teetering and tottering through the grass, she runs towards me with her arms waving in the air. I fall to my knees in front of her and smother her in a hug.

  “I missed you so much,” I say in Aven’s ear.

  Clutching my neck, she speaks the same words that kept me from making an irreversible mistake in the Barrens. “Wuv-u, Daddy.”

  “Oh, baby girl. I love you with all my heart.”

  Sash stops by our side. Aven leans back from me and looks up at her.

  “Daddy safe,” she says.

  The joy I feel from being reunited with my daughter is muted by how much I’ve hurt Sash. While in the Barrens with my mind devoured by malicious lies, I asked myself a question over and over.

  Why did I ever come to this godforsaken world?

  The only answers I’ll ever need to that question are in my arms and standing by my side.

  “You and your mother mean everything to me,” I say to Aven.

  I reach out a hand and lightly grip Sash’s thigh. She yanks her leg away and shoots an angry glance in my direction.

  “I’m thrilled you’re alive,” she says, “but I told you that I need time.”

  “I never meant to hurt you. I’ll do whatever—”

  “Wait,” she interrupts, holding a hand up to silence me. “Larn just summoned me from the gate.” She listens to him for a few seconds. “They didn’t find Tela.”

  With my heart sinking to my stomach, I look at Aven. “Mommy and I have to go for a while, but we’ll pick you up at the end of the morrow.”

  Making her pouty face, Aven pushes her bottom lip out and scrunches her eyes. “No go, Daddy.”

  “We’ll be back before you know it. Right now, we have to find Tela.”

  There’s no rationalizing with a nine-month-old, even if her maturity and speech match that of a three-year-old on Earth. But instead of arguing with me, Aven’s face drifts away from mine and she tilts her head to the side. As though she’s listening to something from far away, she gazes at nothing with vacant eyes.

  “What is it, Aven?” I ask.

  “Help Tela,” she whispers. “Help Tela.”

  “We will,” I say. “That’s why we need to go. We have to find her.”

  After another long hug with Aven, I rise from the ground. Sash and I each take one of our daughter’s hands in ours and lead her back to Kyra. As they step inside the doorway to Home, Aven looks over her shoulder at me.

  “Tela lost,” she says.

  “We’ll find her,” I reply. “Mommy and Daddy will pick you up later.”

  Kyra swings the door shut.

  “She learned a new word while you were gone,” Sash tells me.

  “Lost?” I ask.

  She nods her head. “I told her you were lost in the Barrens. She wasn’t the same while you were gone.”

  “I’ll make it up to her. And to you, if I can.”

  “We should go now,” she replies without acknowledging my statement.

  When Sash and I reach the Delta entrance, Larn, Nuar, and Roen are waiting for us by the gate. They all have bags under their eyes and their shoulders sag from exhaustion.

  “I’m sorry that I struck you,” Larn says to me.

  “No apology necessary,” I reply. “I was out of control.”

  “The effects of the wild sap may linger for several more morrows,” he informs me. “Pay attention to what you’re feeling and keep your emotions under control.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Velt, Jeni, and Kale fly over a nearby
hill and soon come to a stop beside the rest of us.

  “We still haven’t seen any sign of Tela,” Larn tells me. “Velt and Jeni searched up the river to the north and returned earlier. The rest of us followed the path you described as best we could.”

  “Did you find the Murkovin camp?” I ask.

  Larn shakes his head. “We saw a few trees, but none of them had rope binding them.”

  “Maybe you were in the wrong area,” I say. “Since the Murkovin were searching for us, she could have gone back to the cavern we hid in. We should check there.”

  Larn briefly studies the other Travelers. “Nuar and Roen haven’t slept. Jeni and Velt had a brief rest. They’ll come with us, but the others should stay here in case they’re needed.”

  “You must be exhausted,” Sash says to Larn. “Have you even closed your eyes since Chase and Tela went missing?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he replies. “We need to find Tela before it’s too late.”

  With canisters over our shoulders, spears in our hands, and me leading the way, we follow the same route that I used to return to the Delta. Everyone scans the Barrens for any sign of life during the five-hour journey to the Murkovin camp, but nobody sees a thing.

  After cautiously climbing up one of the hills outside the camp, we peek over the crest. The ropes that were securing the branches of the tree are gone. The Murkovin that were here are nowhere in sight. The only remaining sign of anyone being here are the spike holes in the bark of the trunk.

  While we walk to the cliff that Tela went over, I describe the fight at the tree and our escape. When we reach the edge of the bluff, I look down at the bottom of the canyon. The image of Tela’s bloody, disfigured body flashes into my vision. I grit my teeth so hard from the malevolence swelling inside me and the pure hatred I feel for the Murkovin who did that to her that my jaw hurts. Larn was right, I realize. I still feel the effects of the wild sap.