Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1)

by R. V. Johnson

  “I am afraid not, dear. This gate is attuned to one location, a location best kept secret.” Crystalyn opened her mouth to ask where, but the Lore Mother held up her hand. “I know you will never be satisfied to leave it at that, but you will have to for now. In time, you may gain additional knowledge, but right now, I cannot and will not, speak of it without guarded walls.”

  Gazing at the crystals, Crystalyn frowned. If they wouldn’t help her return home after she’d found Jade, what good were they?

  Atoi’s tone was dispassionate. “I am not surprised by their subterfuge, Crystalyn. The three of them wear secrets like a favorite shawl they fear to lend.”

  Hastel took up a position behind Atoi. “We don’t want your shawls.”

  At least Hastel and Atoi seemed to be part of her team, she was grateful for that. “Yes we do, Hastel. I don’t expect to know all their secrets, but I do expect some respect and I will have it. This secret would’ve been safe with us from the start. Their…the Lore Mother’s lack of trust is misguided.”

  Lore Rayna jumped to her feet. Drawing an arrow to her bow in one fluid motion, she leveled the razor-sharp tip at Crystalyn’s breast. “What we and the Lore Mother do is for our discretion. You will show the Lore Mother respect before your own. I have warned you for the last time,” she said, pulling the bowstring to her bosom. Crystalyn was astounded. After all she’d done, Lore Rayna drew on her?

  Broth leaped. Stretching out a front paw, his great claws raked the bow, slicing the string. A loud twang split the air, as the Warden dropped to the ground, dragging the bow with him. Grunting in surprise, Lore Rayna’s forearms thickened, taking on a wooden, branch-like quality, her fingers forming pointed stakes. Without pause, the big woman swung at the Warden.

  “Broth!” Crystalyn screamed.

  Front shoulders tangled in the longbow, the Warden leapt backward on his two rear legs, but didn’t get far. Lore Rayna charged, executing another swing. “No!” Crystalyn screamed again.

  Cudgel leapt between the two, his club taking the brunt of Lore Rayna’s swing. “Rayne! What are you doing? You’re attacking a Warden!” he yelled, his tone aghast.

  Ignoring him, Lore Rayna rained blow after blow upon Cudgel’s weapon.

  Both hands centered on his iron-tipped club, Cudgel spun the ends back and forth, blocking every blow with expert skill.

  “Daughter!” the Lore Mother shouted her voice a boom. “Cease this immediately!”

  Lore Rayna snarled. Her arms doubled in size and elongated as her stake fingers branched tree-like outward, seeking a way around the club to the man behind it. Thick, root-like vines formed from her feet, ripping through the humus ground, they circled around the warrior, making for the one he protected.

  Crystalyn brought out and released her knockback symbol. The three silver concentric rings slammed into the big woman, pushing her backwards across the meadow. Slamming Lore Rayna to the ground, the rings rippled the leaves on her dress as they passed over, blowing soil, plants, and small rocks high in the air, forming a dense cloud of debris. The three rings hit the trees at meadows edge and broke apart, raining twigs and soil around the base of the falun trees behind the fallen woman. Gasping for breath, Lore Rayna slowly regained her feet, gazing at her companions in silence.

  Cudgel made no move to go to her. Broth slipped from behind him to stand at his side.

  Crystalyn was relieved. The Warden appeared to be unharmed.

  Slowing her breaths, Lore Rayna’s bark-like arms and branching fingers shrank rapidly, reforming into her normal tanned skin. “You are right Beloved, what am I doing?” she asked softly. Behind her, Atoi crept close.

  “No, Atoi, get away from her!” Crystalyn screamed.

  Atoi froze, her dagger gleaming in the sunlight. Face impassive, she stepped away from Lore Rayna, giving her a wide berth. Slipping the jeweled dagger through the slit in her dress, she resumed her customary position by Crystalyn’s side, keeping her emerald gaze fixed on Lore Rayna.

  Crystalyn brought out another symbol, one of the ones under the heading “Elemental Style” in the tome of symbols, black-lettered book. A glowing, green circle, half the size of the shire horse Drumn, hovered before her. The white, maze-like pattern wound around circles of various sizes. Though it felt airy to her, she was unsure of the symbol’s effect. She’d not used it, nor did she want to use Lore Rayna as the test subject, but she had to have something visible to defuse the situation, or end it right here. “Make a move to attack me or my companions again and I’ll not hold back. I will destroy you if I must,” Crystalyn said, donning her emperor mask by affecting an icy tone and stony expression. Compressing her lips together, she hoped it was enough.

  It was. Lore Rayna’s skin flushed, her green-leafed dress shifted back and forth around her body, expanding and receding in agitation. “That won’t be necessary…I owe…I owe you all an apology…” Lore Rayna said her words barely audible.

  The Lore Mother’s angry tone filled the silence. “I would say an apology is but a mockery of what you shall do. You have brought great shame upon your race. My utter disappointment knows no bounds. How could you attack your companions?” The Lore Mother held up an unsteady hand when Lore Rayna opened her mouth. “Do not bother to reply. I have had enough of your childishness. You will do penance for it. One other outburst between here and Surbo and you shall be sent back to the Vale with the mark of high dishonor infused in your forehead, do you understand?”

  Cudgel’s sharp intake of breath spoke volumes into the silence following the Lore Mother’s words.

  “Yes, Mother. It is no less than I deserve,” Lore Rayna said softly, her glowing eyes downcast.

  “Oh, Rayne,” Cudgel said, sadly. Shaking his broad head, he tromped back to the wagon.

  “You can put that away now, Crystalyn. You too Hastel; Lore Rayna won’t be troubling anyone this journey,” the Lore Mother said.

  Hastel sheathed his two axes. “Troubling? You make it sound like a petty argument. The fire needs to be built for supper anyway,” he said, moving off.

  Crystalyn was loath to let the symbol go. A latent power resonated through its intricate, almost transparent design. It pulsed brighter in the center in a straight line, giving her the feeling of a wide horizontal swath for some reason.

  “Does it drain you the longer you hold onto it?” the Lore Mother asked, her raspy voice intruding on her concentration.

  Disinclined to answer, Crystalyn let the symbol fade. She was getting a headache, anyway, though probably not from the symbol. “I meant what I said, Lore Rayna. I can’t let that happen again.”

  Lore Rayna’s brow furrowed, but she remained silent. Tossing her head back, she shifted her golden hair from in front of her breasts as if a reply was beneath her.

  Glancing away before her anger could set in again, Crystalyn spotted a small cliff face overlooking the campsite. She motioned to Atoi and Broth. “Come on. I feel the need for a walk.” Setting a fast pace, she made for the trees guarding the way higher. Crossing inside, she felt the Lore Mother’s luminous gaze fixed on her, but she wasn’t about to look back. She might decide to destroy the lot of them.

  The climb wasn’t as bad as she expected. A well-beaten path angled up a gradual slope circling away, then winding back, where it topped out above and behind the rocky ledges she’d seen from camp. As she’d expected, her anger dissipated with exertion.

  The explanation for such a nice path was clear when they caught tantalizing glimpses of a pond glinting with sapphire brilliance through open patches of the birch trees.

  A vivid image flowed into the link, startling her. A tent-like structure constructed from deadfall overlooked the pond. We are not alone, Broth sent. The perspective was from the trees beside the path where he’d wandered off to keep watch.

  Crystalyn thought about turning back but decided to keep going; she wanted to see the full extent of the pond. The path paused at the mouth of the pond’s gurgling outlet, as did she. Sw
allowing the better part of the small upper valley, clear blue water supported budding lily pads floating on three sides of the pond. They continued toward a lean-to where a familiar figure lounged on a boulder.

  “Are you certain you’re not following me, Darwin Darkwind?” she asked, as soon as she drew close. “I am beginning to wonder.”

  “A look she couldn’t identify flitted across his tanned face, but then he grinned. “I believe you’re following me, since you’ve wandered into my camp. Nevertheless, it is fortuitous. I was about to dine. I’d be honored if you and the Dark Child would join me for my humble repast,” he said motioning toward three rectangular bundles wrapped with broad, green leaves, and placed on a nearby rock. “They should be cooled by now.”

  “There are three of us now,” Crystalyn said, glancing at the wall of trees at her right. “Broth, come here, please.”

  Slipping from beneath an evergreen, Broth meandered around the small camp’s perimeter, sniffing at rocks and the makeshift tent.

  “How remarkable,” Darwin said. “You’ve managed to get Linked since last we met. You are beyond exceptional…” He trailed off. Gazing at Broth, his expression grew wistful.

  Crystalyn flushed at the compliment. “I don’t know about that, but I do know he is exceptional. His name is Broth. He’s a Warden.” She flushed again. What was she babbling? Darwin would know Broth was a Warden.

  Darwin nodded as if it was the most natural comment on Astura. “Please sit wherever you find the most comfort,” he said, gesturing at the area nearby.

  Atoi plopped on the grass, a boulder against her back, silent as usual. Crystalyn selected a rock the right height for her knees. Though cut from a different pattern than hers, Darwin wore Kell leather. The leather rustled softly when he moved to hand her one of the leaf-wrapped bundles. It was warm to the touch, like his long-fingered hand, when her fingers brushed his. She peeled back the leaf with care, exposing a red-spotted fish surrounded by steaming vegetables.

  “Please, allow me,” Darwin offered. Bending over her lap, he pinned the tail with a finger and pulled the head toward it, lifting the skeletal frame out of the orange meat. Discarding the bones, he rewrapped the leaf with a deft hand, leaving it on her lap. “Go ahead, try it,” he said with a smile.

  Looking up at his dark, shiny eyes, Crystalyn smiled. She took a small nibble from a corner. The leaf was a pleasant surprise. Tasting faintly of apples, the taste of it brought to mind the Farm’s romaine lettuce, though it had a much softer texture. Her next bite was larger. The vegetables combined with fish oil, meat, and some spices, went well with the leaf. Crystalyn gave a nod of approval as she swallowed.

  Darwin beamed, placing one in Atoi’s lap and setting the third in front of Broth.

  My taste is not used to heating out the flavoring, Do’brieni.

  “He likes it raw,” Crystalyn said.

  Darwin picked up the leaf, replacing it with a large, raw, spotted fish he’d retrieved from the shade of a nearby boulder. “It’s a good thing I never made much then,” he said, settling on a smaller rock to debone his own meal.

  Broth swallowed the fish in a few gulps.

  Savoring the taste, Crystalyn chewed, looking around. Darwin had chosen his campsite well. A boulder, the size of a small boat protected the area from a west wind. A lean-to was propped against it. The site was sheltered on the eastern side by the northern cliffs, which left the south side open for a prime view of the pond. She did notice something missing. “Where’s your fire pit?”

  Darwin grinned. “That’s the beauty of it. I don’t have one.”

  Atoi sat forward. “You have minute control over your Using?”

  Darwin smiled cryptically. “Anyone can make a fireball. Generating a precise amount of heat at a certain point, however, that takes skill. One not easily mastered, I daresay.”

  Crystalyn stopped chewing, surprised to find there was only a couple bites left of the wrap. “Go on, you have my interest.”

  Setting his uneaten leaf wrap beside him, he stood. “I’ve been experimenting for some years on my own. Shall I demonstrate?”

  She nodded, keeping her eyes on the leaf-wrapped bundle. At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, with increasing rapidity, the rock under the wrap began to glow red. Darwin turned the leaf over as the rock faded to its normal color, poking a finger gingerly at it a few moments later. “It’ll be a while before I can sit down, but the food’s warm,” he said with a smile.

  Crystalyn was impressed. “You used the rock as a stove. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

  Darwin grinned. “It’s harder than it looks. No one else I’ve worked with has learned how to trickle the Flow, as I call it. They usually melt the stone, or start it on fire. I’ll bet you can, though. Here, let me show you,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ll help you direct your energy in small increments.”

  Darwin’s hand was callused, which surprised her. She’d thought of him as a noble as well as a high-ranking commander. Most in his position would insist that someone else doing the menial work for them, she was certain. A pleasant tingle raced along her spine from his touch adding a distraction to her sorting through the symbols she’d used in the past. Not one she could recall had any fire or flame associated with it.

  Darwin spoke, his tone implying impatience and excitement at the same time. “Go on; draw upon the Flow’s energy. I’ll let you know when you have enough, keep siphoning until I tell you to stop.”

  His heartbeat has increased, Do’brieni; I can hear it. Interact with care. I do not believe this one can be trusted.

  Darwin seemed so sincere, and his beautiful brown eyes glinted with an inner fire. Perhaps she could try the airy one in miniature form to rub the rock’s molecules together. It should heat up then.

  “If you don’t want to try the stone, use the pond. It will soak up any excess. Go ahead, access the Flow. What are you waiting for?”

  His heartbeat has accelerated again. What does he wish of you?

  Crystalyn pulled her hand free. “I, we…have to get going. The others will be worried. Thank you for sharing your meal with us.”

  Surprise shone in his eyes as his jaw worked. “No! Please, you don’t have to go. Stay here, the Dark Child, and your Warden will inform the rest of your party that you will rejoin them with the rising sun.”

  Crystalyn gazed long at him. He was so handsome, even when worried, as he seemed now. She was sorely tempted to spend the setting of the sun strolling along the pond, getting to know him better, perhaps training with some of her unknown symbols with his guidance. After, as the sun began to fade, they would retire to the warmth of his blankets. Would it be such a bad thing?

  “I would object to such an arrangement, Mistress,” Atoi said, her declaration only slightly undermined by her passionless tone.

  Darwin reached for her hand again. Squeezing it gently, he flashed a confident smile. Making up her mind, Crystalyn pulled her hand free a second time. “There will be no need for any objection, little one. Let’s go. I don’t wish to walk down to camp in the dark.” Standing, she moved onto the trail.

  Broth leapt in front. My relief is great, Do’brieni. Leaving you alone would cause anguish.

  Eventually we may have to separate for a while, Broth, but not now.

  Looking over her shoulder, she paused to motion Atoi ahead of her. Though the young girl could likely defend herself in almost every situation, Crystalyn preferred to keep her in the safer position of the middle, where she could keep an eye on the Dark Child within her.

  Darwin stood silent and unmoving, his face unreadable.

  Rounding the pond’s outlet where the path began its descent, it took all of the restraint she’d developed to keep herself in check, and not run back.

  SMOKEY GARLANDS

  Crystalyn’s leg muscles protested every step. Miles of stomping across dry, arid soil, then some hopping from rock to rock on a talus field as the wagon rolled through a dry creek bed had ruined her
knees. Only twenty-two with worn-out kneecaps, how do I get myself into things like this? Her companions never revealed any such difficulty. They’d all trekked longer than she had throughout the day and every day before this one.

  Still, she stuck by her decision to give Ferral a rest, though Hastel had insisted the horse was fine to ride. There was no way she’d be able to handle the stallion’s canter when her injury was seeping worse than ever. Her attempts at healing with the golden symbol helped, but only until she stretched the wrong way, stepped the wrong way, or sat down the wrong way. It didn’t matter what she did. It wouldn’t heal or be healed. She’d resorted to the old, low-magic way. Going off in the trees alone, she’d sacrificed her old tee, tearing it into strips. She now had a few spare bandages to sop up the leakage whenever she exerted too much. Trooping through rough terrain certainly qualified as excessive exertion.

  Perhaps with Broth’s stamina, she would handle it better. The Warden padded tirelessly, moving side to side, covering twice the distance as anyone.

  Cudgel and Lore Rayna kept a steady lope a few paces ahead of the wagon with ease. After Lore Rayna’s attack, the big woman had remained sullen, but seemed to want to make amends by helping everyone with camp and travel tasks.

  The Lore Mother maneuvered the laden wagon along the narrow, beaten path; Drumn pulled it with vigor still, his magnificent head high and his gait long. Tied to the wagon’s side rail, the palomino and the black mare kept pace with ease, despite the long ride she and Atoi had hit them with the past few days. Hastel trooped behind the wagon’s right flank, his two axes, one on each side, not hampering him in the least. Atoi also kept up easily, running beside her. Everyone in her little group looked as fresh as new morning, not her.

  Crystalyn tried to maintain some semblance of vigilance as she plodded alongside Hastel, but most of her attention went to hauling her wooden legs over shrubbery, around boulders and bushes, through dry and near-dry creeks beds as they made their descent from Glacier Mountain. Another stumble on a ground squirrel burrow and she would scream. Or, at least protest under her breath, vigorously.