The Infinite Expanse (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 2)

by BC Powell

  “I would never laugh at someone who’s lost their mind.”

  “But I didn’t lose my mind!” I huff in utter exasperation while shaking my hands in the air in front of me. “I’m just being silly.”

  She folds her hands in her lap. “Well, I don’t like it.”

  Not ready to give up yet, I plop down on the bed beside her. After reaching my hand to the front of her face, I lightly pinch her nose between my index and middle fingers. When I pull my hand away from her face, I slip the tip of my thumb through the two knuckles.

  “Got your nose,” I say, holding it up for her to see.

  “That’s not my nose,” she replies firmly. “That’s your thumb.”

  “I know, Sash,” I moan, frustration now boiling over inside me. “I’m just being silly.”

  “If you actually took my nose off my face, it would be quite painful.”

  “You know what? Just forget it and let’s go to sleep.” I spin around and lie down on my back with my hands behind my head.

  Sash falls backwards to her pillow and looks straight up at the ceiling. “Peace,” she says quietly.

  As the light from the Swirls fades away, she rolls onto her side and lays her arm over my chest. Her fingertips gently trace up and down my side.

  “Chase, may I ask you something?”

  “Of course,” I say, hoping the subject is about to change.

  “If I were to pretend not to understand something, even though I did, so that you kept doing silly things, would you think that was funny?”

  In my mind, I can see the sly smile on her face, and I also notice that “silly” and “funny” are now in her vocabulary. I slowly smile, start to chuckle, and then laugh out loud.

  “You really got me.”

  “I’m sorry if it was mean,” Sash replies. “It seemed appropriate at the time.”

  “No, it wasn’t mean at all. It’s hysterical . . . really, really funny. It makes me so happy.”

  “I’m glad,” she says. “You seemed like you were feeling sad, and I hoped it might distract you.”

  “It did,” I say, my laughter finally calming but a smile still on my face. I rest a hand on her back. “I love you so much, Sash. You have no idea.”

  She slides her hand down my stomach until it reaches my shorts. After loosening the drawstring, she slips her hand inside. While lightly stroking me, she kisses her way from my chest down to my lower stomach.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  She rolls on top of me, her face at my waist, and eases my shorts halfway down my legs. “It occurred to me after you gave me pleasure with your mouth that I could do the same for you with mine.”

  “You don’t have to, Sash,” I say.

  “Won’t it feel good?”

  “Well . . . yeah, it will.”

  “Then I want to,” she replies.

  Before I can say anything else, her lips engulf me, taking me into the moist softness of her mouth.

  Chapter 10

  Standing on a desolate hilltop, the man studies rays of white light piercing through a billowy sky. While his blood-red eyes scour the stagnant gray clouds, his displeasure escalates to fury.

  Why does Darkness not fall?

  The only recent Darkness didn’t last long enough for those who serve him to even cross the river. Without a longer Darkness soon, the painstaking time and effort he spent on the creation of the passage, the tremendous risk to his own life in capturing a Serquatine, will all be for naught. Unable to control the rage seething inside him, the man slams the point of his spear into the rocks at his feet.

  “Be patient,” a woman’s voice says from behind him. “Darkness will eventually fall.”

  After lowering his face from the sky, the man turns to the woman. Since their first meeting, he’s found strength in her crimson eyes. As he gazes at her carmine lips, her small, sharp nose, her narrow chin, and the gentle curves of her lean face, he’s momentarily confined in the grips of her beauty. But now isn’t the time to satisfy carnal desires spawned by sap of the Barrens, he knows. More important matters are at hand.

  “The five waiting near the river will run out of sap soon,” the man says. “I’ll take more to them from our supply.”

  “No,” she replies, shaking her head. “I’ll take them sap. If you’re seen so close to the Delta, it could endanger the plan.”

  The man briefly considers her words, accepting the truth contained in them before asking, “How many packs do we have in our cavern?”

  “Four with full stakes.”

  “Take all but one.”

  “I’ll take them all,” she says. “We can go without until Darkness.”

  The man nods to her, well aware of her deep commitment to their plans. “Use netting to tie the stakes inside the packs. Tell them to cross the river during light and wait inside the cavern. With the stakes well secured, they can carry sap with them across the river. If Darkness only lasts a short time again, they’ll already be inside the Delta.”

  “You’re certain they won’t be seen crossing the river during light?” the woman asks.

  “As long as no Watchers are in the Barrens, they won’t be seen. The pool is blind to the Watchers on the wall. Make sure they stay focused on their task.”

  “They will,” she replies.

  The man glances at the side of a nearby hill. A dozen creatures from the Barrens, tattered black clothing draping their muscular frames, sit at the bottom of the slope. While staring at a bound sustaining tree in front of them, the Murkovin wait for a Darkness that never seems to arrive.

  “Don’t let anyone see you leave our cavern,” he quietly urges, returning his eyes to the woman’s. “Their thirst is growing.”

  “No one will know,” she replies. “They lack the speed to catch me anyway.”

  He reaches one hand to her and takes her arm in a firm grasp. “Be safe in your travel.”

  She kisses his lips before running a finger along the line of his square jaw. “Darkness will eventually fall. Until then, stop worrying so much. I’ll return soon.”

  His eyes follow her as she turns away from him and runs down the hill. Long black waves twined with radiant white flow through the air behind her. At the bottom of the hill, beams of light seep from her slender but muscular body. After she disappears into the Barrens, the man returns his focus to the Murkovin on the side of the hill.

  Over thirty of the creatures are already under his command, fed by a handful of trees imprisoned by his restraints. More Murkovin join him with every passing morrow. The man knows that none of this would have been possible without her. The beasts never would have put their trust in a Watcher of the Delta.

  While an Apprentice, he often entered the Barrens alone following Darkness. Pretending to search for signs of Murkovin paths to the river, he ventured far into the badlands. No one in the Delta knew that he’d mastered blending his light. Nor were they aware of the secluded tree he kept bound in the wasteland with stakes sunk deep into its bark.

  The man relished the sap of the Barrens. He embraced the effects, immersed himself in the extreme emotions and thoughts, the desires it released inside him. He felt stronger with the wild sap in his blood, so much more powerful, and vastly superior to all others in Krymzyn.

  While an Apprentice, he’d seen the young woman of the Barrens several times from a distance. As the cravings released by the wild sap infiltrated his mind, he was ensnared by her beauty. He longed for the touch of her body against his. Finally, after a Darkness had departed, his path had crossed with hers. She’d been trying to suck the last drop of sap that oozed from the broken limb of a tree.

  “I can help you,” I said to her.

  When she spun to me, her muscles tensed, but she had no weapon in hand. Remaining calm, I held my arms out to my sides and dropped my spear to the ground. She had fresh sap in her blood, so I knew she wouldn’t thirst for mine.

  “Why are you here?” the pale young woman asked.

 
“I can show you a way to bind the tree so the limbs won’t harm you. I’ll bring you stakes from the Delta. You can store the sap and always have as much as you want. I’ll teach you if you let me.”

  She shook her head while peering into my eyes. “Why would you help me?”

  “I’ve seen you in the past. I’ve watched you from afar. You’re the most spectacular creature I’ve ever seen.”

  The man kept his word, teaching her to restrain a tree far from the eyes of the Delta. She never lacked sap, and he visited her in the Barrens whenever he could. In a cavern deep under a blackened hill, they carefully planned a future together. With her help, more trees were bound. As the sap flowed freely from the trunks with no risk of death from the branches, others soon joined them.

  With relief from their constant craving, an unlimited supply of sap provided by the man’s ingenuity, the Murkovin soon fell under his control. They became soldiers, to use a word he’d learned from one of the Disciples’ stories of another world. Soldiers under his command.

  He meticulously trained the beasts with weapons, sharing his own skills with a spear through grueling skirmishes. They would do anything he ordered as long as he maintained their unending supply of sap.

  Five of those creatures, the strongest and smartest of those who had joined him, now wait in hiding near the river. Into their minds, the man had imprinted a clandestine path from the secret entrance to a solitary habitat. With the ability to blend their light, the five will be able to streak through the narrow valleys in an instant. Hidden by the hills of the Delta from the eyes of Watchers, they’ll never be seen.

  Hunters tire after Darkness. She’ll leave her spear by the entrance to her cavern while she cleanses in the fall. That’s when she’s at her weakest, more vulnerable in that moment than at any other time.

  Many more creatures from the Barrens will join me soon. Our numbers will grow until we’re more powerful than those of the Delta could ever imagine. With the extraordinary Hunter dead, no one will be strong enough to stand against me.

  Chapter 11

  Three morrows pass, but Darkness never falls. Although the duration of the morrow seems to be similar to days on Earth, the only way for me to be aware of morning, afternoon, and evening is with my internal clock. The light never changes, the clouds don’t move, and there really is no way to measure intraday time. I find the absence of watches and clocks somewhat disconcerting, so I try to cling to my sense of minutes and hours ticking by as I would in my world.

  On Earth, I’d maintained a fixed schedule, always knowing what time it was, where I needed to be, and what I should be doing. To paraphrase what Sash once told me, in Krymzyn, I consume sap when I hunger, fulfill my purpose as needed—which is only training for the time being—and rest when I tire. Everyone in Krymzyn seems to disappear inside their habitats for sleep at more or less the same time, except for one shift of Watchers who stay on the wall. Krymzyn lets us know when it’s time for Communal or a Ritual, although there haven’t been any Rituals since my arrival.

  Our routine is essentially the same each morrow. Sash and I spend the first few hours training with spears. In the middle part of the “day,” Sash takes me to different parts of the Delta and introduces me to the Watchers, Constructs, Travelers, and Hunters we occasionally see. There’s great respect shown between the people of Krymzyn, but while they’re always respectful, there’s no display of close friendship. They never engage in small talk or exchange personal information, although they all mention their concern at the lack of Darkness. The people I meet are polite to me, but there’s also a noticeable distance in their demeanor as they seem to view me with bit of distrust.

  When each Communal arrives, Sash and I find a quiet place to rest together, usually on top of the Empty Hill. I gradually explain more about life on Earth to her, detailing our educational systems, methods of travel, and technology. I’m always surprised by her ability to grasp mechanical and technological concepts. Computers, automobiles, and wireless communication all seem relatively easy for her to understand after only a brief explanation by me. Her intelligence is intimidating, and like all the people of Krymzyn, she has an infallible memory.

  Several times over the passing morrows, I accompany Sash to visit the trees in her hunting region. Meditating in silent communication with them, she kneels at the trunk of each tree, her forehead and palms pressed to the bark. I’m always moved by the beauty and intimacy of her spiritual exchange. When she finishes honoring the tree, she examines the trunks, the grass around the roots, and each of the branches, checking for any signs of damage.

  In the latter part of the morrows, we meet Larn and Tela on top of the Traveling Hill, continuing my education in light blending. While my running speed is increasing to levels I never could have imagined, I don’t have any real breakthrough at fully separating my particles or blending my light.

  In what I think of as evenings, we return to our habitat and clean whatever needs to be cleaned, although there’s not a lot involved in that process. Krymzyn is an almost spotless place. There’s never any dust in the air, and we don’t seem to track mud or dirt into the cavern. We wipe the tables off with a cloth and sweep the floor with a whisk broom, its short bristles made of hair just like the smaller brush kept in the bucket. Sash occasionally removes the slipcover from our bed to rinse it in the waterfall.

  Near the end of every morrow, Sash performs a series of yoga-like exercises inside our habitat. Sometimes I join her for a while, finding them physically and mentally relaxing, though I can’t even begin to do several of them, especially when she elevates her body on the palm of one hand with both her feet sticking straight up into the air.

  Anytime I sit at my table to draw, Sash seems to genuinely enjoy watching me. With her by my side, I gradually finish the portraits of my family and begin sketching a few landscapes of the Delta. Inside the tranquility of our blue quartz cavern, the soft glow from the crystal around us, I feel the same type of peace and comfort that I’d have at nighttime in my apartment or at my family’s house on Earth. But if I step outside our habitat for a moment, I’m always shocked by the perpetual bright light.

  After Sash and I begin sleeping under the sheet Nina made for us, we both stop wearing sleep clothes to bed. We make love before every sleep, and sometimes again when we wake up. Although the physical side of our relationship is still new to both of us, it’s always much more than just sex. For us, it’s another way of exploring the connection we’ve always felt with one another, a connection that grows deeper by the morrow.

  At random times, I can’t help but miss my family or worry about what they might be going through because of me. I’m sometimes filled with guilt while wondering what their reaction was to learning that I was about to kill myself. Sash always senses the painful emotions in me and either sits quietly by my side, sometimes holding my hand, or gives me space if she believes I want to be alone with my thoughts. But no matter what I need, she’s always there for me in a way that makes me love her more and more.

  On my sixth morrow in Krymzyn, tracked by a calendar I made by hand on a sheet of fabric, Sash and I are near the end of our sparring session when she catches me off guard with a suggestion. Actually, it’s more of an order.

  “We’re going all out with real spears.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “So you know what an actual fight feels like.”

  “But one of us—and by one of us, I mean me—could really get hurt,” I say.

  “That won’t happen,” she replies. “I won’t stab you through your head or heart, and you won’t stab me through mine. We’ll pull back on impact anywhere else. Minor injuries can be healed by sap.”

  “Sash, I don’t want to do this,” I grumble.

  She tosses her practice spear to the ground, takes mine from my hands, and lays it on the grass beside hers. After picking up our real spears, she holds mine out to me.

  “You have to,” she says. “It’s part of your training.”r />
  “I don’t want to do this with you, Sash,” I complain, although I have no choice but to take my weapon from her.

  Without the slightest warning, she jabs the tip of her spear across the skin of my shoulder. A thin line of blood trails behind the steel point.

  “What the fuck!” I shout.

  “If a Murkovin attacks you, do you think you can avoid a fight by saying you don’t want to?”

  “This is different.”

  “This is part of your training,” she calmly replies. “I want to be the one to do it with you.”

  “Sash, I told you I don’t want—”

  “Always think ahead,” she interrupts, crouching with her spear at the ready. “Not one step ahead, not two, but think of every possible move I might make. Know what your reaction will be to anything I do before I ever go into motion.”

  She rams her spear at my stomach, but this time, I swing my weapon up to block the point away. I try to cross-check my spear into her chest just to push her backwards, but she dips under the shaft, sweeps a foot behind my legs, and knocks my feet out from under me.

  “You were off-balance,” she says, circling me as I lie on the ground. “You’re not concentrating.”

  I know there’s no getting out of this, so when I stand, I try to let everything Sash has taught me flow through my limbs. Our weapons clang in the air as we stab, block, and spin. Having seen her in real battle, I can tell she’s holding back enough to keep me in the fight, but she still occasionally jabs the point of her spear deep enough into my flesh to draw blood. She wants to toughen me, I soon realize, trying to make sure I stay in the fight no matter what injuries I might incur. Although her face is focused throughout the skirmish, I see her wince anytime she actually causes me pain.

  I manage to do a little of my own damage, taking her legs out from under her once and another time slamming an elbow into her chest hard enough to send her stumbling backwards. Any time I get a blow past her defense, she smiles ever so slightly. Finally, we both completely let loose in a furious clash of steel, which ends with me on my back and Sash standing over me, both hands clutching her spear. I cross my eyes to see the point pressed against my forehead.