At first she believed she’d stumbled into another artifact storage place in the warehouse somehow, perhaps through some hidden passageway, but she’d only found the one exit. The one her back rested upon. Carved from some dark, amethyst stone—real stone, and not some variation of plasicrete—the whole room got dim lighting from shafts, similar to the ones bored through the hallways ceiling. There was no other exit. The immense hallway with massive golden doors, the armored guards who carried pointy weapons, the tools of violence in this room, they all made her situation too real. She wasn’t anywhere near Crystalyn’s work. But how?
Pain bloomed in her mouth. Jade spit her lip out, grimacing. If she kept chewing on it there’d be nothing left but ground meat, though it was hard not to; she needed it for composure in times of stress. How she got here made little difference now, her main concern was discovering the way home. Thinking about it brought tears to her eyes, which she quelled. Her earlier sobs had accomplished nothing. It was time to adjust the situation, as dad would say, preferably in one’s favor.
Standing, Jade adjusted her grip on the white candle, as she strode from aisle to aisle, making sure she’d missed nothing, perhaps a hidden trap door. She looked for anything wider or bulkier than it should be. Gazing at weapon after weapon, a chill blazed an icy trail down her spine. How could she expect to survive in a place such as this? Panic arose again, but she stuffed it down, resisting the urge to bite her lip. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart standing around grating her lip to shreds. Completing a full, zigzagging circuit, Jade found herself facing the door, her disappointment sharp. Nothing new had presented itself. Besides the war accoutrements, there was only the worn black leather bag hanging from an iron hook mounted on the doorframe.
Drawing a deep breath, she thumbed the latch a second time. Almost as an afterthought, she lifted the bag from the hook as she slipped through the door, letting it close—and lock—behind her. There was no going back. She hadn’t found a key. Leaving it propped open was bound to draw unwanted attention.
Dropping the white candle in the bag, a soft clink bespoke it had other contents, yet its weight hadn’t given her any indication. Exposed as she was, she resisted the urge to look inside. Slipping the bag over her head, she faced the hallway away from the golden doors. Walking with what she hoped was a normal pace; she strode along the rough-hewn stone floor on one side, avoiding the opulent rug lining the center between the rows of pillars. The last thing she wanted was to meet someone passing by there, as she tried to figure out which way to go.
She stole a glance behind her. The great hall appeared empty, save for the statuesque guards who stood in the same positions as near as she could tell. It appeared they hadn’t spotted her but she couldn’t be certain.
Once out of sight, she picked up the pace, trying to project the confidence of someone going about important−but not urgent−business. The last thing she wanted was for someone to stop her and ask if there was an emergency.
Before long, she arrived at an intersection. Trailing her hand along the wall, she turned right, barely slowing down. Ahead, the corridor narrowed. Black and red-robed people with hoods drawn, surrounded a large oblong well.
She paused, feeling stupid. Her jeans and hooded jacket marked her as an outsider and she’d wandered too close. Had she forgotten all of dad’s training?
The left side branched beyond the main hallway to reveal a similar picture. A large crowd gathered there too, yet there was a notable difference. The crowd surrounded a set of obelisks, like the pair in Ruena Day’s office, except much higher and wider apart. Excitement quickened her breathing. The obelisks were the last thing she recalled touching. The way home could be nearer than she’d thought. It meant crossing the huge hall and sauntering right through the people. As she watched, several large groups began the trek across the hall. Over half wore armor. The armor worried her. Anyone wearing it possessed a military heart. If nothing else, they would question her. What could she say? She arrived by accident, but would they believe her? It was doubtful since the whole place looked to be a fortress of some sort, but there was no choice. The tan-colored obelisks were her best chance to return home.
Changing course, she resumed the same pace, this time with a solid destination in sight. With luck, the mammoth obelisks would zap her to the warehouse before Crystalyn grew too frantic. The last thing she wanted was another angry tirade directed at her, though her sister’s yell was preferable to this place of armor, robes, and stone. She’d never been far from Crystalyn or dad her whole life. Or mom, for that matter, when she’d been around.
The obelisks stretched higher the closer she went. Jade began to wonder if they functioned the same way as the sapphire obelisks. What would she do if they didn’t? She couldn’t wander around forever. At some point, she’d have to eat and drink. Perhaps, if she found someone wearing robes, away from the armored ones, she’d ask for some water along with help getting home. It’d require putting aside her shyness to ask, but she would.
Striding as fast as she dared, she rounded a massive pillar—the largest by far—shouldering the gray rock ceiling three stories above. Running lengthwise along the enormous hall, the granite pillars continued as far as she looked. Unlike the carved ones near the shining doors, all had been polished smooth, including the monstrosity. Reaching the far side, she halted.
A man wearing a dark red robe rested a shoulder against the pillar’s smooth surface. Silver hair poked out in straggly strands from under a hood pulled back to a lined forehead. His steel, blue-gray eyes glinted, regarding her openly.
“Oh! I didn’t see you,” Jade said.
The man glared. “I did not intend for you to see me until now. You must be a new Creation. I have never seen your kind in the Dark Citadel before.” Pushing away from the pillar, he faced her. “What kind of abilities did the Great One bestow upon you? What is your use? You look human, yet your attire speaks a different tale. Are you a Dark User acolyte then? Speak now, before I lose interest and end this.”
He spoke soft enough Jade wasn’t certain she’d heard correctly. “What’s a Great One? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Flicking his red robe to one side, he exposed a sword hilt. Resting a hand on the pommel, he stepped closer. “Do not think to play with me, little creature. I have tracked you from Lord Charn’s personal armory,” he said, his voice as hard as his eyes. “I shall ask one final time. What is your dark task?”
Fear swarmed inside Jade. What could she say? She didn’t have the faintest idea what he wanted.
Unless…yes. He had an image like the one spinning around Crystalyn. Not black as Crystalyn’s or all gray like dad’s. His was gray with a wide black streak in the center. Blurred miniature scenes flickered inside. Focusing her will, Jade halted the rotation and expanded the scene it happened to end upon, snapping it into sharp clarity.
Gazing intently over his shoulder, sword in hand, the red-robed man before her—garbed in silky brown leather this time—ran after a young woman wearing a leafy green dress. The girl carried a blue crystal candle in one hand, a wood staff in the other, an emerald orb atop it. As Jade watched, an unseen bowman fired an arrow, scarcely missing the man’s head, it struck the girl under the left shoulder blade. Dark red blood ballooned across the girls back as she fell. The man’s face twisted with a soundless scream.
Pain exploded behind her eyes. Head throbbing, Jade released the image, allowing the rotation to continue on its slow, never-ending loop. Desperately wanting to rest her head in her hands, she clenched her jaw instead, staring at the red-robed man, “I’ll answer your questions, providing I know the answers. But first, you have to answer mine.”
The man frowned. As he did so, his eyes bled from a darker blue to a lighter gray, which she found odd. Wrapping his hand around the sword hilt, he straightened. “I warned you. Now you think to play games with me, Dark Creation. I have expended my allotted patience.”
Fear crept up her spine. Once he dr
ew his sword, it’d be too late. She’d have to be gentle if she wanted to survive. No. It wouldn’t work with him. His pain was too sharp, too deep. Hitting him hard was the only way. “The girl arrowed in the back, who was she? What were you running from?”
The man’s gray eyes darkened to blue, rounding with horror. After a time, he slumped, his sword hand falling limply to his side. Jade began to wonder if her questions caused his heart to fail. Suddenly he straightened; looking behind her.
Jade followed his gaze. A silken-robed crowd moved toward them at a marching pace, ragged-clad figures among them. Oddly, no one wearing armor was visible.
“Come. We have to leave,” the silver-haired man said, turning around. He broke into a run, racing upon the ornate carpet between the pillar supports.
Jade dashed after him. Tucking the black bag under an arm, she ran as fast as she could, catching up. “Wait! Who are you?”
Slowing, he glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes wild. “Now’s not the time to speak. I delayed too long. Keep up or die horribly!” Bursting into a headlong run, he sped away.
Clamping her mouth closed, Jade pumped her legs, concentrating on the red robe in front of her. Don’t look back.
Eerily silent except for the dull slap of their footfalls and her labored breathing, the red-robed man kept near the center supports running at a grueling, ground-eating pace. His hood blew back to reveal the full head of silver hair she’d seen in the image. Slowly, a pillar at a time, she was losing ground, straining for breath. Soon, he’d leave her behind.
Suddenly, he veered from the path, sprinting into a side passage. Jade followed, driving her legs as hard as she could. The passageway ended at an iron door where the man stood fumbling about in the pockets of his robes. Jade slid to a stop, narrowly avoiding a collision.
“Where’s the blasted key?” he asked digging in his pockets frantically. His flailing arms froze, then reached into an inside pocket and pulled out an archaic key. “Thank Onan,” he muttered, fitting it into the lock.
Something dark slipped into the passageway. Malice, cold and reeking of evil washed over her…bringing fear…raw absolute fear…she was going to die fearful. Flicker.
A profound serenity enveloped her. Why had she ever thought it evil? Relaxation soothed every fiber of her. Flicker.
Freezing terror gripped her at her core. Something powerful moved ever closer. A prevailing, unquenchable, thirst washed through the terror. It must drink…must…Flicker.
The sweet joy of profound happiness caressed her soul. How could she not want something so pure, so innocent, and so loving? Flicker.
Raw, gnashing hunger filled her mind. Raving, churning, all consuming…must feed... Flicker.
Pleasure spread through her in waves. It was delightful, but so strong and so…much. Flicker.
Glee poured into her…a glee for the anticipated gain of a pure soul…glee…Hunger sated at last…glee…Flicker. Flicker.
INTENTION
A massive iron door swung closed in front of Jade. She blinked.
Sliced off in mid-glee, the terror beyond the door dissipated, leaving behind a faint wail of unbearable loss.
Unadorned, but expertly crafted, the black iron door fit the gray stone with no gaps.
Jade shuddered as the deathly cold thoughts dispelled from memory.
Two hands released a firm grip on her shoulders, surprising her. She’d not been aware they were there.
A man slipped past her, hanging his red robe on an iron coat rack. Underneath, he wore the brown leather outfit he’d worn in the image back in the hallway.
Bile rose in her throat when she thought how close she’d come to succumbing to the malevolence in the passageway. If not for the man who’d been about to kill her, she’d not be among the living. The same man who now stood relaxed without a hint of the urgency he’d displayed getting here. Of course, if she’d fallen behind, he would have left her to those…terrors. She shivered.
Her benefactor gestured toward a gray stone bench placed alongside a small rectangular stone-hewn table. “Please take a seat. I shall fetch something to drink to slake the thirst after our... little jaunt. Moving through a door less entry, he vanished around a corner.
Only now realizing her heart beat wildly, Jade sat, resting both elbows on the polished tabletop. The light in the room was brighter than the hallway, but not by much. Placed on gray translucent shelves mounted high, one to each wall, long gray crystal shards shed a dim light. Next to one shelf, a dark stain marred the otherwise polished wall.
Soon after her heartbeat slowed to normal, the older man returned carrying two silver mugs and a stitched leather flask. Setting the mugs on the table, he filled both. Shifting his long sword to the side, he sat down, blue eyes wary. “Well? Select which one you want. I am thirsty after such a run.”
“Oh! I’m supposed to go first?” Grabbing the closest mug, Jade spilled a few drops on her hand as she brought it to her lips. Chilled, pleasantly sweet water coated her dry throat. Her next swallow drained the mug’s contents.
Frowning, the silver-haired man replenished her drink. “So you are not a Dark Creation, or the white ash leaves I ground into the water would have burned holes through you. Yet you do not know basic customs when sharing first sustenance. You are a bundle of mystery, young one.”
Jade pushed the mug from her, spilling some of the contents. “Why are you trying to harm me? I’ve done nothing to you. I don’t even know who you are.”
He hesitated, staring down at her. “I suppose it is safe to tell you my name, now that I know which one to reveal. I am Camoe Shadoe away from this place. You may call me Cam, if you would like. I would know yours.”
“Jade Creek, but everyone calls me Jade.”
Camoe’s blue eyes lightened to gray. “Very well, Jade. You’re going to tell me in detail how you know about Maialene. Think carefully before lying. I will know, and lies raise my ire higher than you want to climb.”
Stated matter-of-factly with such confidence, his last comment sent a chill through her. She’d only ever lied to placate Dad or Crystalyn’s concerns with boys though they hadn’t needed to worry. Boys were easy to control. Camoe on the other hand, had the air of someone violent about him. “You mean the girl? I’m able to view images rotating around people. Well, with three people so far, you, my big sister, and my dad. With yours, I was able to halt an image and view it for a short while.”
Camoe sat up straighter, the pupils in his blue eyes dark. “Are you saying you can read an aura? Then you are a User, as I suspected. However, I have never heard of a User with the ability to halt an aura. Certain specialized Users can see the aura rotating around us, what color it is, and if they are quite strong, they may get a glimpse of a vague shape rotating behind the fog, but that is all.” He paused, his light blue eyes intent. “I do not detect a lie. Perhaps your skill is unique to you. I shall study it given time. Right now, I need to know something. Why is it that I cannot see your colors?”
Jade wondered why his eyes changed so much perhaps that is what he asked. “I don’t understand. Am I supposed to have colors?”
Camoe scowled his eyes staying light blue. “Every User has colors and every User can see each other’s color flecks that pulse in their eyes after they train and the Flow addiction saturates them. It gives some idea of a User’s ability level for accessing the Flow and their current addiction. The more addicted the less reasonable they are, which makes them dangerous. Have you not been trained?”
Camoe was becoming impatient. Perhaps she shouldn’t have told him so much about her images. “I suppose I haven’t.”
He nodded vigorously. “Yes, that would make sense. However, you are old to be a User without guidance. Most start with the first signs of potential. I may have to take it upon myself—”
His aura rotated, drawing her in and making her head throb. She looked away. “Would you please tell me what those…things are out there?” Jade asked wondering what kind
of place spawned such evil things. Her eyes fell upon the wall again. Nothing had changed with the crack, yet there was something about it. Perhaps it was the simple fact that everything about the room, even the ceiling and floor, was smooth. The crack stood out as the only blemish. Though, wasn’t it only a stain when she’d looked before?
Clearing his throat before choosing to answer, Camoe regarded her as she regarded him. “They are wraiths the Great Lord releases after dusk. Some in the White Lands call them flickers, because they create an illusion of well-being in short increments to keep their intended victim from escaping. Their telepathic onslaught paralyzes their prey. A single flicker followed us into the passage. We were fortunate it went for you. I was able to ignore its weaker assault on my mind, so I am aware what you went through firsthand now. With such creatures roaming the halls, the Great Lord has no need for added watch in his halls as their number increased, though some believe the flickers were here long before the Dark Users and their Great Lord. The wraiths patrol without rest only at night, searching for the hapless souls caught beyond the protection of polished stone or iron. Once a season, Dark Users feed prisoners to them, swelling their ranks and keeping the flickers voracious hunger sated for a while. Tonight was such an occurrence.”
She wondered what he meant about polished stone or iron, but something else he’d said made her pause. “Why would their numbers increase?”
“You don’t die—but I suspect you would wish you had—should they catch you wandering, or by design in their area of telepathic onslaught. The Dark Users have developed what they call a Soul Lure to move them around for they cannot resist it. Once the flickers feed on your soul, you become like them, searching endlessly for a living, glowing soul, never satisfied.”
Bitter cold seeped into her spine. These people feed people to wraiths. Why would anyone want to live here? The whole place sounded like a swarm of evil in one form or another. “Why are you here? Why take a chance with those horrid things?”
Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) Page 6