by BC Powell
He’d listened carefully when the Disciples told stories of other worlds. Stories of weapons, tools, and items called machinery. As a child, he’d learned to carve molds in slabs of marble and to grind crystals of dirt into hardening powder. He’d carefully observed the Hunters on the Mount as they extracted sap from the steel trees. From the Weavers, he’d learned to meticulously braid thread into unbreakable rope.
A forest of untouched steel trees stands on the backside of the Mount, far from the eyes of those in the grace of Krymzyn. More than enough marble is scattered across the rocky slopes to create many molds. Binding berries grow from the cracks on the eastern face of the Mount to secure the steel. Wild thread trees sprout throughout the Barrens, only black twine dangling from their limbs, never white. Everything the man needs is at his fingertips, the expertise to utilize the resources forever embedded in his mind.
Two men and a woman stand up from the group sitting on the nearby hill. With spears in their hands, they walk towards the man. As they pass by the tree, one of the brutes kicks the empty steel transport at the base of the trunk. The man calmly bends down to the ground and slips his fingers around the shaft of his spear. As he stands again, he returns his eyes to the Murkovin, his weapon firmly in his grip. The three creatures stop when they reach him.
“We’re leaving,” one gruffly says to the man.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the man asks.
“The Barrens,” the creature answers. “You said we’d have sap, but you’ve given it all to the others.”
“They have an important task ahead of them,” the man replies. “You’ll consume all you want when Darkness falls.”
“You don’t know the ways of the Barrens,” the creature snarls. “You’re of the Delta.”
“I’m the way of the Barrens now!” the man shouts.
The creature’s muscles tense. When the man sees the Murkovin’s eyes drop to the veins bulging from his own neck, he knows the beast thirsts for his blood. Before the creature has a chance to move, the man erupts with wrath. His spear tip slices the air until the point slams into the skull of the beast. A burst of white light envelops the steel as the man hammers the brute’s head into the ground.
The second creature thrusts his spear at the man. As he ducks under the point, the man rips his weapon out of the skull of the dead Murkovin at his feet, spiking it straight into the chest of the attacking creature. The sharpened steel impales the Murkovin’s heart while blood spouts from the wound. Gurgling from blood filling his lungs, the creature collapses to the dirt.
With a sweep of his leg under the third beast’s feet, the man knocks her to the ground. Her spear flailing in her hand, she tries to jump to her feet. The man smashes his foot into the creature’s face, crushing her nose. He plunges the point of his spear at her head but freezes just as the tip pierces her skin.
“Go to the wasteland,” he growls. “Tell all who dwell there what you’ve seen. Tell them there’s a new power in the Barrens.”
The man lifts his foot away from her blood-soaked face. He slowly turns to the other creatures still sitting on the side of the hill. With dread in their crimson eyes, the Murkovin stare at him.
“Does anyone else dare to defy me?” the man yells.
The creatures lower their eyes to the dirt at their feet. Darkness will fall soon, they know. The man will provide sap for them.
Chapter 5
The air around us is still and quiet. The only time a wind blows in Krymzyn is during Darkness. When it’s light, I never hear the faint whistle of a distant breeze. Without birds, traffic, or people everywhere, the constant white noise I’m used to in my world doesn’t exist here.
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘safe from being me,’” I say, resting a hand on her hip.
“When I was a child,” she replies, “I didn’t understand why I am the way I am. I still don’t fully understand, but I accept it. I tried to hide much of what I could do. But when a task or challenge was put before me, I couldn’t stop myself from using everything inside me. I never wanted others to think of me as having more power or somehow being different. I just wanted to be like the other children.”
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling that way,” I say. “But there’s nothing wrong with being who you are, either.”
Rolling onto her back, she looks up at the sky. “I know I shouldn’t have felt those things, but I did. I learned to blend my light when I barely came up to Larn’s waist. The first time he carried me across the Delta, as you’ll soon do with the children, I could feel exactly how he did it. The moment I climbed off his back, I ran down the hill and soared across the Delta.”
There’s no bragging in her tone. She’s always humble, even embarrassed at any mention of her gifts.
“Before most children learn to use a spear, I could beat the tallest, strongest of the Keepers or Watchers in a duel. I saw their next ten possible moves before the first ever entered their minds.”
“Are the Keepers good with spears?” I ask, somewhat surprised by her comment.
“The best in Krymzyn,” she answers, turning her head to me. “Better even than the Watchers. The children are the future of the Delta, so the Keepers protect them at all costs.”
“That makes sense,” I say. “But you were better?”
“At everything.” She rolls onto her side again, draping an arm over me. “People often looked at me as though I were different. They always had respect in their eyes, not condemnation. But sometimes, I saw fear on their faces.”
“I know how it feels,” I reply. “When I went back to my world after we were together on the Tall Hill, I had to have something called chemotherapy. It made my skin pale, all my hair fell out, and I lost a lot of weight. Some of the kids my age . . . children . . . looked at me like I was different or even as though they were scared of me. They were afraid that if they got near me the same thing would happen to them.”
“So you understand,” she says as a statement of fact.
“Yeah, I do. It’s awful. I’m sorry you felt that way.”
“Thank you. It often made me feel isolated, and sometimes I needed to be alone. Several times, I snuck out the gate and traveled far into the Barrens. I wouldn’t even take a spear. I knew no Murkovin had the speed to catch me.
“I’d find a tree the Murkovin had almost destroyed, one with only a few branches remaining, and sit beside the trunk. I’d try to comfort the tree. I shared its grief and let it know it wasn’t alone, that I was there for it and cared.
“Larn was always the one to find me. I don’t know how, but he always had a sense of where I’d gone. He’d sit on the ground nearby and patiently wait for me to finish with the tree. He never chastised me for going into the Barrens alone, even though he had to come after me. He told me he was honored to do what he could to help me.
“At other times, I’d travel to the Infinite Expanse. Any time I asked for the sign, Krymzyn would give it to me. Most people dread the Expanse, but I never have.”
“What is the Infinite Expanse?” I ask.
“One hundred thousand miles in every direction from the Delta stands an impenetrable barrier of light,” she answers. “An endless wilderness lies on the other side. The only way to enter is through one of the four Gateways, but you must have the sign. If you try to pass through a Gateway without it, the Guardians will take your life.
“Every thought inside our minds takes life there. Good and bad. If you don’t control your mind, your own fear can destroy you. Each child of Krymzyn is given the sign to visit. We learn to conquer our fears, or at least keep them at a distance. You’ll be given the sign before your Apprenticeship can end. Once you’ve successfully mastered your fear, you can ask for the sign to the Expanse any time you want, but very few ever go again.”
“Why did you go so often?”
She studies my eyes for a moment before answering, as though she’s debating her response. “By seeing my thoughts and feelings take life,
I could better understand them. No one else could help me, so I had to find ways to do it for myself.”
“Wasn’t there anybody here you could talk to about how you felt?”
“I spoke with Eval sometimes. She tried to encourage me and told me there was a reason for me to be the way I am, even if we didn’t know what that reason was yet. But Eval couldn’t really understand how I felt. No one could.”
“I had no idea it was so tough on you.”
“You did know,” she says, reaching a hand to my face and resting it on my cheek. “You were the only person to ever ask me if it hurt to be the way I am. You asked me when we were on the Tall Hill. I felt safe with you, Chase. Safe on the inside. When you weren’t here, I longed to feel that again.”
I roll on top of her, prop myself up on my elbows, and look down into her eyes. “The first time we met, when Tork came running at us, I can’t tell you how scared I was. But you told me I was safe. It wasn’t your words I believed. It was the way I felt being near you.”
A smile finally washes the gloom off her face. “When I was a child, many times during Communal, I came to this place, where I could have solitude. I used to imagine a person I could talk to about the things inside me. Then you came, and you were that person. For the first time, I felt that someone understood me. It’s as though Krymzyn searched every other world for someone I could share my feelings with and found you.”
“Do you think that’s why I was brought here?”
“I think that’s part of the reason. You might have hated it here and turned away. Krymzyn did everything it could to scare you. But you embraced Krymzyn—and me—and you chose to stay. You didn’t have to. And even though I always thought I’d die with you here, I still had to be near you.”
“Me too,” I reply. “That’s why I’m here now.”
She slides a hand up my spine until slipping her fingers into the hair on the back of my head. “I’m sorry you had to leave your family. It hurts me to think of the sadness you feel, but I also feel complete having you with me.”
“I do too, Sash. I know I’ll miss my family, but the only way I could really be who I am is to be here with you.”
I lower my face to hers. As our lips press together, our mouths open and our tongues caress one another’s. After we kiss, we lie silently in each other’s arms. I know again, with a deafening scream from the deepest part of me, that I belong here with Sash.
Startling me, she pushes me off her, sits up, and pulls her shirt over her head. As she lies back down on the grass, she tosses her shirt to the side.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You told me you like to look at me when I don’t have clothes on,” she says with a mischievous smile. She reaches her hands down to her waist and unbuttons her pants. “So I’m taking them off.”
“Sash . . . here? What if someone walks by.”
“No one will pass by, especially during Communal.”
“Are you sure?”
“Chase,” she says, pretending to pout. “You’re kind to be so concerned. But now I’m worried you don’t like looking at me unclothed anymore.”
“You never need to worry about that.”
I take my shirt off and drop it to the grass. After rolling on top of her again, I gently kiss her lips, cheeks, and neck.
“Your kisses feel good,” she says.
“I’m going to kiss you from head to toe and everywhere in between.”
“I’ll like that,” she sighs, looking up at the clouds.
Kissing along the way, I slide my mouth over her shoulder, across her chest, and up to her other shoulder. She stretches her hands out above her head, softly moaning as my lips glide over her skin. Lowering my face to her chest again, I circle her small, firm breast with my tongue. When I tenderly suck her nipple into my mouth, it hardens against my lips.
Moving lower, I kiss down her stomach before finally grazing my lips across the skin just above the waist of her pants. She squirms a little, lifts her head from the ground, and grins at me.
“That feels odd,” she says.
“It’s called a tickle,” I reply.
“Tickle?”
I walk my fingers up the sides of her torso, over her ribs, and stop them on the smooth skin of her underarms. When I tickle her, she throws her arms down, clamping my hands between her biceps and ribs. A wondrous sound that I’ve never heard in Krymzyn—unless it came from me—escapes her throat. Sash is laughing.
“That’s horrible!” she exclaims.
“But in a good way, right?” I ask.
She laughs again before answering. “It’s like pleasure and pain at the same time. But more pleasure.”
“Now you know how to laugh.”
“I like the way I feel right now,” she says softly. “I love being with you, Chase.”
As I lightly kiss her stomach again, the taut muscles of her abdomen quiver under my lips. I slide her pants down to her ankles and then sit up momentarily to pull them off her feet. When I lie back down on the grass, my face is between her calves.
Starting at her ankles, I slowly kiss my way up her legs, alternating between the left and right. After licking the insides of each thigh, I look up at her face.
“I want to try something people do in my world,” I say. “I think it will feel really good to you, but if it makes you uncomfortable, just say so.”
“I will,” she replies, staring up at the sky and spreading her arms out on the grass at her sides. “I feel amazing right now.”
Returning my face to her groin, I skim my lips down the thin line of short, silky hair. My hands curl under her hips, taking her firm curves in my grasp. Lowering my mouth between her thighs, I kiss, lick, and finally slip my tongue inside. Reaching as deep into her as I can, I feel the warmth of her wet softness.
Her fingers touch the top of my scalp, comb through my hair, and stop against the back of my head. As she pulls my face against her, I slide my tongue to the top of her crease. After swirling it around, I delicately flick my tongue over her until her muscles begin to tense. When spasms ripple through her body, she clamps her hands to my head and lets out a long gasp.
While her muscles calm, I rise to my knees and unbutton my pants. Her eyes float into mine as if lost in a dream. Absorbed in their amber radiance, I slip out of my pants. When I lower my body over hers, she takes me in her hand and guides me inside her warmth.
As I begin to slide in and out, her body keeps perfect pace with mine. I raise my face above hers, looking down into her eyes. I don’t know how long we make love, but for every moment of it, we hold each other’s gaze. Her eyes reach deep inside me. From her core to mine, sparks flow through my veins. In an intimate cove of crimson grass, my sense of awareness is awakening again, just as it did beside the Reflecting Pool on the Mount. Her heart beats inside mine, and her breath fills my lungs.
Sash thrusts harder and faster until I finally tense. She arches her back, flexing at the same moment I release inside her. A myriad of colors flares from our eyes, surrounding us both inside a splendorous sphere of light.
Chapter 6
Lying naked in the grass with our faces inches apart, Sash and I run our fingertips over each other’s bodies. The magenta glow has left our palms, letting us know Communal has ended, but neither of us is in a hurry to get up.
“Sash, Chase,” Eval’s voice echoes in my mind, “please come to Sanctuary.”
“That’s so weird,” I say.
“What?” Sash asks.
“Hearing her voice inside my head.”
“Don’t you have ways to communicate with others from a distance on your plane?”
“We do, but we use things called phones. They ring first so you can see who’s calling you, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“If someone summons you in Krymzyn, you’re needed.” She sinks the fingers of one hand into the grass between us. “Eval, we’re on our way.”
“Do you have to say t
he person’s name?” I ask.
“The person can only hear you if you say their name. If you want to summon more than one person, say all of their names.”
Another thought pops into my mind. “You don’t think she knows what we did, do you?”
“No one knows,” she replies, smirking at me.
“You’re sure?” I ask.
“I’m sure. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t want to get you . . . us . . . in some kind of trouble. I know this really doesn’t go on here.”
“No one knows, Chase. If it’s ever an issue, I’ll tell you.” She slips her hand into my armpit and tickles me with her fingertips.
Trying not to laugh out loud, I squirm in response. “Hey!” I exclaim.
“You shouldn’t have taught me about tickling if you didn’t want it in return,” she replies, scrunching her nose at me.
“I’ll remember to be more careful in the future,” I jest.
Sash springs to her feet. The fluid motion of her body captivates me as she scoops our clothing from the ground. She whirls to me, raises her eyebrows in pretend exasperation, and throws my pants onto my stomach.
“Stop staring at me and get up. We need to hurry.”
“You’re the one who was tickling me,” I playfully complain.
We quickly dress before gathering our things from the ground. Sash positions the cylinder of stakes over her shoulder so that it hangs by her side. With a spear in each of her hands, she turns her back to me.
“Climb on,” she says. “I want you to feel how I blend my light.”
“What do I do with my spears?” I ask.
“Put them across my chest,” she answers. “You can’t really separate your particles yet, so you won’t have a problem holding on to them. When you begin to travel on your own, you’ll learn to keep things in your hands when you blend your own light, but it takes practice. For now, the steel will react to my body but also remain solid enough for you to keep your grip.”