Darklight 6: Darkbirth

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Darklight 6: Darkbirth Page 5

by Forrest, Bella


  "I can tell you anything I know if you ask me in a manner that I can successfully process." The blue eyes were unnerving, but at least we were gaining knowledge. All we needed to do was figure out what to ask and how to ask him.

  I puzzled over questions in my head; there were so many. Could this construct tell us about Gate Maker or how to get home? I had no concept of how much time might have passed in the Immortal and Mortal Planes, and my main worries were about how the battle at the training camp had ended. Had the Coalition triumphed? Did Lady Izelde escape and inform the Immortal Council of the attack? My concern for my brother, for my friends, grew stronger. This time, I noticed the weather reacting in response.

  "Is it possible for me to break through the barrier?" Dorian asked.

  The proxy didn't hesitate. "No. Impossible. Your being, your structure, will not allow it."

  "What do you mean by that?" Dorian fired back. Above us, blue splotches in the sky darkened.

  "This fixed, flesh-based form you have is simply inadequate," the proxy said, and pointed.

  Dorian shot me an annoyed look, and I stifled a laugh at this creature referring to us as flesh-based forms.

  I cleared my throat. "You're not inadequate to me, Dorian, if that makes you feel better."

  “Thanks,” he said, deadpan. "Proxy, are you spying on us?" He tossed out the question casually, as if there was no reason in the world why the construct shouldn’t answer it.

  "Yes." The proxy held no shame in his answer. I raised one brow. It seemed that when Xiu the arbiter crafted this thing, she had forgotten to add tact or secrecy.

  "Then how can I trust what you say?" Dorian was in full interrogation mode, and I had to admit it was kind of hot to watch him be so intense, despite the circumstances.

  The proxy folded its small, stubby hands in front of his flat midsection. "I was given no directive to lie to you, and there is no logical reason for me to conceal truths from you. The knowledge I possess is drawn directly from the universe. All that is required of you is to ask the right questions. I am unable to anticipate the needs of lower beings, and it is not in my nature to imagine or create cognition that does not follow logic. I merely know what I know and respond when asked.”

  The reply was on the vague side, but at least the proxy would answer our questions, assuming we asked the right ones in the right way. I considered this progress, although Dorian gave an irritated sigh. We were both tired of cryptic answers that only spurred more questions.

  "It's better than nothing," I told Dorian. He gave a reluctant nod of agreement. My interest now thoroughly piqued, I couldn't help but stare openly at the creature. "What exactly are you? Do you have a name that we can call you?" I hated the idea of calling the creature “proxy” for the rest of our time together—the word even meant a stand-in for someone else. Not only did it seem kind of insulting, but it was also an uncomfortable reminder that we were being watched by an unseen presence.

  "I was constructed by Xiu to watch you and gather information,” he responded blandly. “I possess no name, for it is not required of me.”

  I twisted my mouth in curious thought. We might have to be very particular in how we phrased our questions to get the answers we needed, a process that could take some time to perfect. He apparently lacked abstract thought, but maybe the black-and-white thinking would work in our favor if we could figure out what to ask. After all, we apparently had nothing but time while we were here. How lovely of our new arbiter friends to keep tabs on us but refuse to help us.

  "Can I call you Jia?" I suggested. The arbiters clearly favored shorter names. Plus, it sounded cute enough that it might drive off the frustration we often felt when Jia actually gave us an answer. Dorian snorted incredulously, but the proxy nodded.

  "If that is the title you would prefer to address me by, then it is satisfactory to me." He aimed his round eyes at me, looking as if he were surveying my very soul. "Shall I respond to Jia from now on?"

  "Yes. Jia. Thank you."

  Jia made no response or reaction to the thanks. Remembering Gate Maker’s take on apologies, I supposed that both gratitude and apologies rarely happened in the Higher Plane. Dorian tapped his foot, now regarding Jia with more curiosity than hostility. We needed to ask more questions if we wanted to get anywhere.

  "Why did we go back to the Gate Maker's estate when we were walking away from it?" Dorian prodded. “Did we make a wrong turn by accident?”

  "You did not make a wrong turn, for there are no turns or even directions in the Higher Plane. One travels here by focusing intent on the final location. One of you must have been thinking about returning to Ruk’s estate, and so you did." Jia floated up until level with our head height and gestured behind us, then all around. "In the Higher Plane, you find what you intend to seek. You craft it within your consciousness, and the world brings it into being for you. As with the weather created by your emotions, the plane is only responding to what you think."

  Hell, it had been me who took us back to Gate Maker’s estate.

  I confessed as much to Dorian. "At some point, I thought about how mindlessly wandering wasn't getting us anywhere. I thought something about how even seeing Gate Maker's estate would be better than the mist."

  Dorian, instead of growing disappointed, gave Jia a genuinely interested look. "Fascinating. So have we gone anywhere at all, Jia? We ran a lot. It felt like a lot, but I can’t tell with all this gray around us.”

  Jia quieted for a second. "I do not understand the question. All places are the same until they are imagined."

  I suddenly missed Kane and Roxy, knowing that their style of blunt and practical communication was what we needed most right now. The wording had to prod the proxy just the right way to solicit the response we were looking for, but that was turning out to be more challenging than I’d expected. Trying to think logically and phrase questions in the clearest way possible, what came to my mind was what effects the Higher Plane might be having on our “flesh-based forms.”

  "I don't feel pain here, even though I was injured in the Immortal Plane," I told Jia. "I have no thirst or hunger. I don’t feel the need to sleep, and running doesn’t make me out of breath. What does this place do to our bodies? Our physiology seems completely different." It wasn’t unreasonable for me to be worried that the Higher Plane might do irreparable damage to our bodies while we were here. The Immortal Plane affected me; after consuming vampire blood, I knew that tampering with my physical form in different planes could have devastating effects. I was reluctant to push our luck.

  "This is something I have noted." Jia pointed to his own body. "I need nothing. In other planes, I understand that you must consume various forms of matter to gain energy and then expend them. Here, you are in stasis. Instead of ingesting something, you are merely absorbing low levels of energy from the higher power of the universe. It is the same process the arbiters go through—you are simply performing it on a much smaller scale. If you operated as they did, your body would become overloaded.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. I jumped on the opening.

  "And who, or what, exactly, are these arbiters?"

  "The arbiters are the beings of light who inhabit this plane. They have been granted the responsibility of managing the Immortal and Mortal Planes, a task assigned to them by the universe itself at the dawn of all things."

  I let out a low whistle. An assignment given by the universe? What a job. “Do they like this task?”

  Jia paused. “I do not understand the question. Liking or disliking a task is irrelevant. One merely does it. Performing their role and completing their tasks as arbiters is simply in their nature.” He floated back down to the ground.

  Oof. I would let Dorian have the next question.

  "How do light and dark energy work here?" Dorian asked. “I sensed none of either in the arbiters.”

  Jia's crudely carved lips twisted in the tiniest show of confusion. "Light and dark energy are irrelevant concepts in this
plane, for this place exists outside the confines of that system. You would not sense light and dark energy in beings here because it does not exist in the Higher Plane. The arbiters do not create either kind of energy, nor do they feed on dark energy as you vampires do." He swept his owlish eyes over both our bodies. "However, I can tell you your exact composition, for you both still carry both kinds of energy within you. The two of you naturally have an amount of each energy, and the light outweighs the dark. Lyra, you have something of note inside you. It is a strange infusion of dark energy that exists on a physical level, unlike the limited dark energy that is attached to your aura."

  Instinctively, my hand went to my chest. Was Jia sensing the blood transfusions we did to keep the curse at bay?

  Jia faced Dorian. "You, as a vampire, should contain much dark energy that is not attached to your own aura. This is logical. You ingest it, but it is not your dark energy, it is merely your fuel." The proxy then turned back to me. “You carry dark energy in your aura as a regular mortal should, but there is an additional stain of darkness in your cellular structure that is significantly abnormal.”

  I was at a loss for words. Dorian and I glanced at one another, then back at Jia. How could this tiny creature sense such things? More worryingly, he knew that I was affected by darkness from Dorian's blood. Not in my aura, but in my cells. I experienced a wave of dread and relief. On the one hand, I had to face the cold, hard truth that the blood had affected me strongly enough for Jia to sense it. But on the other hand, it was merely physical and not inside my aura.

  This knowledge was power. I know what's wrong, which means Dorian and I can find a way to fix it. I released a small sigh of relief into the eerie silence around us. As I did, the sky lightened above us, the weight of worry on my shoulders growing lighter. It was insane to think this was caused by our emotions. Perhaps even Gate Maker's?

  I considered Jia’s claims that we literally created the world around us. It sounded like something from a new-age religion.

  "Are our surroundings truly affected by our emotions?" I asked. “In a similar way to how we can only travel to a place if we fully intend to do so?”

  "Yes." Jia added nothing more, the question answered.

  I waited for a moment before I remembered that I had to prod Jia. "Can we keep it from becoming so dark and gloomy? It's awfully intense up there sometimes."

  "Yes." Jia's automatic reply was like talking to a machine, but luckily my phrasing seemed to encourage him to expand the answer this time. "The arbiters control their emotions, what you might call both the negative and positive. They keep them low to conserve energy, rather than projecting them outward. I don't know whether that will work for you two. Simply put, beings like you have never been in the Higher Plane before."

  A gnawing curiosity grew inside me. Could I actually feel the bad weather away? I tried to channel happy memories inside me, focusing on anything that I could grab at. I focused on my emotions and let my awareness sink into my breath and the present moment. I allowed my worries to float away like passing clouds. My mind reeled back to the memory of Gate Maker's advice about listening to feelings but not letting them overwhelm me.

  As pissed as I am at him, Gate Maker must know what he's talking about if he’s from around here. Jia, too. I vowed to embrace the advice. I tried to center myself, thinking of the way Dorian and I had to reach for our light energy at the waterfalls. I searched for every positive memory inside me. Zach's laughter, Gina's grin after throwing a grenade, a wisecrack from Bravi, a sly smile from Roxy. The memories swirled around me in a happy flurry of faint gold glitter. I found myself smiling automatically. God, I miss my friends already.

  A hard, stony bundle of convoluted emotions relaxed inside me, easing into a soft, peaceful feeling. It was far from the burn of the curse I experienced with Dorian, but a relaxing warmth filled my chest like a hug from a loved one.

  My body surged with renewed hope. I'd missed this feeling of calm and focus. How long had it been since I’d felt this way? My mind had been solely concentrated on survival and trying to outwit my human limitations. Now I felt in control… by letting go? I sucked in a grateful breath. This was me. I'm more Lyra than ever right now.

  Jia let out a soft note of subdued surprise as lavender purple began to mist around us, soothing the other, more caustic emotions. "I've noticed an effect."

  But between the pale purple clouds, the yellow flashed again above us, and the blue gloom stayed stubbornly. I concentrated on the purple, finding the soothing shade of lavender far different from Gate Maker’s eyes.

  The proxy turned to me. "The blue isn't you, Lyra. Your emotions are very reserved and positive at this moment."

  My gaze slid to Dorian. He frowned in concentration, but it was a losing game. The blue grew darker above us as the gloom worsened, folding in around us like a wild ocean. Dorian let out a weary, irritated hiss.

  “I’m doing what I always do to control my emotions,” he said tightly. “Why isn’t it working?”

  My heart softened at his struggle. He’d explained to me once that he survived in life by pressing his emotions down, but that wouldn’t work here. It would literally show up in the atmosphere around you.

  “The weather isn’t a big deal,” I assured him softly. It was clear he was hurting, and understandably so, but he wasn’t able to tell me about it yet.

  I wasn’t sure how to help him, but I hoped that distracting him would at least work for now. I focused on Jia and stooped down to eye level with the creature, who barely reached my hip.

  "Can you teach us how to travel in this world?" I noted, victoriously, that some of the gloom faded as Dorian’s attention sharpened on Jia. He wanted to know, too.

  "You'll need to focus your intentions to direct the landscape around you. You must tell it what and who you are looking for," Jia explained. "Manifest it for yourselves. Be clear in your thoughts."

  I puzzled over that. We only knew a handful of the names—Un, Xiu, Jia, who was already with us—from the Higher Plane. Could we go to them? I stared at the manifestation of our emotions as I considered what to do. It was the most obvious thing: if I could change it, then I would know I was doing something right. A merciful gift in this bizarre adventure.

  I gently grabbed Dorian’s hand. “We can try it together.” I offered him an encouraging smile, knowing that he was frustrated. He managed a stiff smile back. We held hands tightly.

  “Okay, together.”

  “I’m going to try to focus on the sky to… create something more.” I didn’t know what yet, but it would be something. Maybe I could manifest more of the pleasant feelings.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. I brought about every ounce of positivity I could think of. In my mind, I painted the sky with a soft green the color of freshly sprung seedlings. I looked up and was pleased to see streaks of fresh spring green through the rotten blueberry. I grinned. Okay, I'm doing something right.

  Dorian simmered beside me. His entire body was stiff. He exhaled slowly. "I can see myself calming my dark blue frustration in my mind. I can hear myself saying that I’m calm, but I can't seem to grasp it." The dark blue remained. He let go of my hand.

  I was quiet, unsure what to say. My mind hit a wall when it came to finding a way to help. I appeared to be getting results, but Dorian wasn’t. The Higher Plane was more difficult to deal with than the Immortal Plane, a concept I would have thought impossible after the difficulties I’d had adjusting to the strangeness of Dorian’s home plane.

  "We can try to think of a destination," I suggested hopefully. “Or a path.”

  I closed my eyes and thought hard. I imagined a yellow brick path akin to the one in The Wizard of Oz rising up in my mind. It was hard to push away the intrusive thoughts of worry about our friends and Dorian, but when I opened my eyes, I saw the beginnings of an actual brick road. It was more gold than yellow, but it was a start. However, my triumph was dampened somewhat when I saw it only went a few feet before fadi
ng into the gray. I looked over to Dorian to see that he’d managed something similar. Stones, the same kind used in the streets and footpaths found in Vanim, stretched before him and disappeared into the gray.

  “Why aren’t the paths leading anywhere?” I asked Jia.

  “What you have done is a start, but it will lead you nowhere unless you have a clear destination in your mind. For that reason, it will work best for you if you go to places that you have already been. You can transport yourselves to creatures that you have already met as long as you can imagine them clearly enough. The most important thing is the clarity of the picture. That is the requirement that must be fulfilled in this plane.”

  I hummed in acknowledgement, processing these rules. Okay, so we needed to think of somewhere we’d been. That narrowed it down to literally two places—Gate Maker’s crumbling estate or the vague point where we’d entered the Higher Plane—but the latter was impossible to picture. I gently touched Dorian’s arm. He looked pensive, likely mulling over the same issue.

  “Back to Gate Maker?” I suggested, both of us knowing that we didn’t really have a choice.

  Dorian eyed the sky above us. It had brightened a little. “That seems to be the only option, unfortunately. We can at least picture that place. Although it is a bit frustrating to have to return there for a second time when we just left.” At this point, he cast a tired glance at Jia, as if the proxy were guilty of our misfortune.

  Irritation scratched at my insides too. I didn’t want to go back, certainly not yet. But it was that or stay in this gray nothingness, and I’d had enough of it. My vision was beginning to blur, my eyes struggling with the lack of content to focus on. My main concern was whether Gate Maker—or Ruk—was still in the throes of his rage. The cloud had been gone when we’d returned last time, but there was no guarantee that would be the case this time. Despite the plethora of problems we were currently facing, I couldn’t help but wonder who he was freaking out over. He’d said “she,” but he’d never mentioned anyone to us in the past few weeks. Not that such a detail meant anything, considering how much he had hidden from us.

 

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