The Infinite Expanse (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 2)

by BC Powell

  “I need to hunt while we still have Darkness,” Sash suddenly announces over the rain.

  “You shouldn’t go alone,” Larn replies. “There may be more.”

  “The Watchers didn’t see any Murkovin cross the river,” Tork informs us. “Nor have we seen any others in the Delta. What direction did they come from?”

  “This isn’t the time to discuss it!” Sash argues. “The sap is flowing.”

  “Where to?” Larn asks.

  “The Empty Hill!” she hollers over her shoulder, already running in that direction.

  “Jump on,” Larn says to me.

  “I’ll just run there. It’s not far, so go ahead.”

  Larn zips away, following Sash’s trail. Rage has been festering inside me since I saw the first Murkovin near our habitat. This was a carefully planned, well-orchestrated attack with Sash as the target, obviously devised by Balt. When I turn to Tork, I can’t control my anger from blaring out of me.

  “They went straight to our habitat! The only reason they were here was to kill Sash!”

  “It appears that way,” Tork replies. “Let me consult with all the Watchers who were on the wall. We’ll convene on the morrow to discuss how they may have entered.”

  “You have to get this figured out!” I yell, feeling the veins in my neck bulging from my skin.

  “We will,” he says solemnly.

  “You have to!” Not waiting for a response, I turn away and run towards the Empty Hill.

  “Chase!” Tork shouts.

  I jolt to a stop and spin to him.

  “You’re not the only person disturbed by their intrusion,” he says. “If one in Krymzyn is threatened, all are threatened.”

  Staring at Tork, I realize the accusatory tone of my voice when I spoke to him, and I’m mad at myself for losing my temper. After taking a deep breath, I speak in a genuinely apologetic tone. “I’m sorry if I was rude. I’m just really pissed off right now . . . angry. I didn’t mean to direct it at you.”

  “You must learn to control your extreme emotions,” he says evenly. “Go find your Mentor. We’ll continue this discussion on the morrow.”

  I bow to him before sprinting away through the rain.

  Chapter 13

  By the time I stop in front of Larn on the crest of the Empty Hill, Sash is already removing her stakes from the tree in the meadow. Under wildly flailing limbs, she hurriedly slides the spikes out of the bark and into the cylinder on her back. When the last one is in her pack, she darts through the slashing branches to the top of the hill.

  “Next tree to the west!” she screams over the rain.

  After scooping the other packs from the ground and throwing them over her shoulder, Sash sprints down the hill. In an instant, she flashes into light. I leap onto Larn’s back when he crouches beside me and we soon stream behind Sash through the dark. Moments later, we all stop on top of the next hill.

  Sash drops two of the three packs to the ground, charges straight down the slope to the meadow, and weaves through the limbs cutting the air. Several times, I’ve seen her navigate the ferocious branches but never with such speed and grace. After just a few seconds, she’s stabbing a new set of empty stakes into the bark.

  Larn and I both survey the terrain around us. We silently stand guard on the hill while Sash protects the stakes from limbs swooping down at them from above. When she begins yanking the spikes out of the tree, the first rays of scarlet singe the clouds. She glances up at a calming sky before removing the rest of the lances from the trunk. Under dormant branches, she drops to her knees, bows her head, and rests her palms against the bark.

  “She’s grown stronger since you’ve been here,” Larn says quietly enough that Sash doesn’t hear him.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I reply, turning to him.

  “I reached your habitat when she drove the first Murkovin off you. Before I could join the fight, they were all slain. I’ve never seen such incredible speed and strength.”

  “There’s no doubt she’s spectacular with a spear.”

  “It’s much more than that,” he says, shaking his head. “She can blend her light after only a few steps. She’s moving past the limbs of the trees as though they were perfectly still. She’s becoming stronger than anyone could have imagined with you in Krymzyn.”

  “I don’t think it has much to do with me,” I say.

  “It has everything to do with you,” he softly but fervently replies. “You provide her something no one else can. Her power is flourishing inside her and flowing back into you. In only a few morrows, you’re close to blending your light. When I saw you leap at the last Murkovin, saw the force and quickness of your strike, I might as well have been watching Sash.”

  I’m speechless while looking into his eyes.

  “You feed upon each other’s energy,” he says to my silence, “and you’re both growing stronger. You’re the only person who’s able to provide the nurturing she’s always needed, and she’s thriving because she has that now. I feel great peace knowing you’re with her.”

  As I listen to the caring tone of his voice, the only comparison I can think of is that he sounds exactly like a proud father on Earth talking about his child. I see compassion in his eyes when he turns his head to look at her, and I remember that Sash told me he was the one who followed her into the Barrens whenever she snuck away as a child.

  “She’s always safe with me,” I say. “I don’t mean in a fight. She doesn’t need my help for that.”

  “I know what you mean,” Larn replies, his eyes still focused on Sash.

  I turn my head to watch her as she rises to her feet. After draping the pack of stakes over her shoulder, she walks up the hill and stops in front of us.

  “Two packs of stakes are all full,” she says. “One is still empty, but Darkness provided well for us.”

  She pulls a stake from the pack on her back, twists open the point, and tilts it into her mouth. The look of exhaustion on her face is as great as any I’ve ever seen. After a long, steady drink, she hands the stake to me. I take a few gulps and then offer it to Larn.

  “It’s been an eventful morrow,” he says, taking it from me.

  “That it has,” I reply before looking at Sash. “I’m wiped out. How about you?”

  “If that means tired,” she says, “as I believe it does, then I am as well.”

  “We all need rest,” Larn comments. “Would you like help taking your things back to your habitat?”

  “No,” Sash answers. “We’ll be fine. Thank you for your help, Larn.”

  He hands the stake back to Sash. “It’s always my honor.”

  “Larn,” I say, “thank you for everything.”

  “I believe you’ll be an asset to Krymzyn,” he replies. “In many ways. I’ll meet you both at Sanctuary on the morrow to discuss how the intrusion occurred.”

  He bows to us and sprints away to the east. Sash leans down to pick up the two packs of stakes still on the ground.

  “Let me take those,” I say, reaching a hand to her.

  “Just one,” she replies. “Thank you.”

  After taking the pack from her, I hang it over my shoulder. As we walk towards our habitat, she slips her hand into mine.

  “Are you all right?” she asks.

  “I’m fine,” I reply.

  “I don’t mean physically,” she says. “You expressed concern about killing a Murkovin.”

  Before answering, I remember the numbness I felt after killing the first Murkovin, the complete and total lack of emotion inside me. I feel like I should experience some type of guilt from taking the life of another creature, but I don’t. When I was in combat, the only thought that entered my mind was an overwhelming desire to protect myself and Sash. When it was over, I felt like I had done my duty for our world.

  “It didn’t really bother me,” I finally say. “It just happened. Like you said, survival instincts took over. To be honest, all I felt was honor because I helped
to protect you and Krymzyn. I know that sounds like I’m saying what I’m supposed to, but it’s the truth.”

  “That’s how you should feel.” She stops walking and turns to me, so I stop as well. “I’m so proud of you, Chase. But if you feel any guilt and need to talk, please tell me.”

  “Thank you, Sash. I really don’t feel bad at all. It was us or them.”

  She rises to her tiptoes and gently kisses my lips. We share a smile before resuming the walk to our habitat.

  “I saw the beams of light today,” I say.

  “During your traveling lesson?” she asks.

  “Yeah. It was awesome. I jolted forward and saw the light everywhere around me.”

  “That’s a major step in the process,” she replies, squeezing my hand. “You’ll be traveling soon.”

  “That’s what Larn said. I fell down pretty hard the first time it happened, but it was amazing to see and feel.”

  “You’ve had quite a morrow,” she comments.

  “I sure have,” I say. Thinking again about the events of the morrow, as odd as many things in Krymzyn may seem to me, the reality is that everything is done the way it is for a reason. I turn my head to Sash. “I want to tell you something. I know I was mad at you when you made me fight with real spears, but I’m really glad you pushed me. If you hadn’t, I don’t think I would’ve known what to do when I saw the Murkovin.”

  Her eyes fill with empathy when she looks at me. “I did it for your confidence, Chase. So you wouldn’t hesitate.”

  “I understand that. And it worked.”

  “Even though the Murkovin attacked us,” she says, briefly glancing up at the sky, “I feel relieved that Darkness finally fell. I think the reason it waited so long was for you to be ready.”

  “I don’t think I have much to do with Darkness.”

  “Darkness is part of Krymzyn, and you are now as well.”

  Her words remind me that everything in Krymzyn is interconnected in some way, and maybe there is some truth to her statement. “I definitely feel like part of Krymzyn after everything that happened this morrow,” I say.

  We soon reach the gorge to our habitat. The five Murkovin corpses are gone, but one woman with strands of neon green in her straight black hair is standing guard by our door. I recognize the Watcher from Cavu’s Ritual of Purpose. She was appointed as his Mentor.

  “I remained on guard until your return,” the Watcher says when we reach her. “I wanted to make sure that no Murkovin came near your habitat.”

  “We’re grateful,” Sash replies. “Vona, have you met Chase?”

  “Not formally,” she says, bowing to me. “I’m honored to meet you.”

  I return her bow. “I’m honored as well.”

  “You served the Delta well today,” she says, looking into my eyes.

  “Thank you,” I reply, feeling truly grateful for her compliment.

  “Did anybody see how they entered?” Sash asks.

  “Nobody saw anything,” Vona answers. “It remains a mystery for now.”

  “We’ll solve it on the morrow,” Sash replies.

  “I apologize that we weren’t aware of the Murkovin entering the Delta,” Vona humbly says to Sash. “We should have spotted them sooner.”

  “It’s no one’s fault,” Sash says. “Thank you for keeping watch over our habitat.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  After we all bow farewell, Sash and I walk through the tunnel to our habitat. With the soothing light of the golden Swirls around us, we put our things away. Sash fills our pitchers with sap from two of the stakes and pours us each a cup. While we sit at the table and drink, she asks me more about what I experienced during traveling practice and talks me through the mental focus needed to blend with the beams.

  As soon as we finish our sap, we clean together in the waterfall, most of that time spent standing under the sparkling water with our arms around each other. When we climb into bed, I don’t think either of us has making love on our minds after everything that happened, but we still slip under the sheet unclothed. Although sap refreshes our muscles, as Sash once told me, it also calms our minds when we’re tired. Once in bed, I hold her close to me while she nuzzles my chest with her face.

  “I like it under our sheet,” she says.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “It’s like being inside our own private space. It’s just you and me here.”

  I gently stroke her hair. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Chase,” she says.

  “Thanks, Sash. You saying that means more to me than anything else.”

  “I love you,” she says softly.

  “I know you do. I love you, too.” Larn’s caring tone when he talked about Sash has really stayed with me since Darkness ended. “Can I ask you something kind of personal?”

  “Of course.”

  “There’s never more than seven children in the Delta, right?”

  “There may be for a short period of time while one is awaiting a Ritual of Purpose, but the number soon returns to seven.”

  “The woman who gives birth to a child and the man in the Ritual of Balance with her must know which child is theirs.”

  “I’m sure they do,” she replies. “But the child never knows. Our way is for all of Krymzyn to dwell as one, all equally protecting and providing for the other. The child is part of the whole, and all of Krymzyn is responsible for the child.”

  “It’s very different than it is in my world,” I say.

  She rolls onto her stomach, folds her arms over the center of my chest, and rests her chin on them. “It is, but look at it this way. You were fortunate to have a family who did so much for you, from what you’ve told me. What if your parents couldn’t have provided what you needed as a person? You’d have no other option to turn to. Or what if everything they taught you was wrong, but that was all you knew? That could never happen here because each child learns from all of us.”

  “No, I guess it couldn’t,” I reply. “Do you ever think about who your parents are?”

  “I have, but I don’t think other children do. It’s just part of being who I am that I would have those thoughts.”

  “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but do you know who they are?”

  “I don’t mind talking about this with you,” Sash replies, holding me in her eyes. “I know Eval is my mother. She and I talked about it shortly before you arrived.”

  “How do you feel about knowing that she’s your mother?”

  Several moments of silence pass before she answers. “I feel honor that a woman with so much wisdom is the one who gave birth to me.”

  “She’s a smart woman,” I say. “What about your father?”

  “I think I’ve always known who he is. Although he shouldn’t, he sometimes shows me favoritism.”

  “Larn,” I say, almost under my breath.

  “How do you know?”

  “Sometimes you look like him. And your bodies move in the same way when you run. But more than anything, it’s just the way he talks about you and looks at you.”

  Sash returns to her side and lays her head on my chest again. “Those are the types of things you would notice. But please remember, we don’t speak of these things in Krymzyn. This conversation is just for you and me.”

  “I know,” I say. Feeling the effects of everything that happened this morrow and knowing how tired Sash must be after Darkness, I look up at the Swirls. “Peace.”

  From my single word, the light inside the crystal dims until the cavern is dark. With her head still resting on my chest, Sash’s breathing slows until it falls into a steady pattern that lets me know she’s asleep. She’s so soft-spoken, caring, and loving to me that it’s almost impossible to fathom the violence I witnessed from her during the fight with the Murkovin.

  As I close my eyes, a smile comes to my lips. In one incredible morrow, I saw the beams of light around me while trying to travel, felt the gli
tch, and honestly believe for the first time that I’ll master blending my light. I defended my new world against intruders, proving I have the ability to help protect the Delta. And I received signs of acceptance from the Watchers when they learned that I’d killed a Murkovin. But as rewarding as those accomplishments are, I feel a much greater sense of elation from another thought.

  I could name a million reasons why I love Sash. She’s compassionate, honest, loyal, and extraordinary in so many ways. She’s beautiful from head to toe and deep to her core. Although I feel how much she cares about me every waking moment of my life, I can’t help but wonder sometimes why she loves me the way she does.

  I’m nothing special. I’m just an average guy from the San Fernando Valley who, because of a brain tumor, somehow ended up in a place called Krymzyn. But right now, in this moment, I understand exactly what Larn said to me. I can give her something no one else can. With me, she can just be Sash.

  Not Sash the gifted Hunter or the little girl who could do spectacular things by the age most children are learning to walk. Not Sash who sees visions of the future, who would give her life in an instant to protect anyone in Krymzyn, or who’s the most powerful warrior in this world. With me, she can just be a person who sometimes wants nothing more than to curl up in my arms and feel safe, understood, and loved—the same things I feel from her as I drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 14

  “We’ve spoken to every Watcher who was on the walls,” Tork says to the small circle of people. “No one saw the Murkovin enter the Delta.”

  Standing in Sanctuary, I glance around at Eval, Larn, Vona, and Sash before returning my attention to Tork.

  “They must be going under the river where we can’t see them,” I say.

  “We’ve searched the entire perimeter of the Delta but don’t see any signs of Murkovin climbing out of the river.”

  I think for a few moments before replying, “You said you found a shovel and a pick in Balt’s habitat. Water flows under the Delta like the waterfalls in our cavern, right?”

  “Underground streams run throughout the Delta,” he confirms. “They eventually all flow back into the river.”