The Infinite Expanse (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 2)

by BC Powell

  “Are there caverns other than the habitats?” I ask.

  “Many,” he answers. “Some are quite small.”

  “Maybe there’s a tunnel leading from the river to a cavern. Would be that be possible?”

  “It’s possible,” he replies after a moment of contemplation. “But it doesn’t explain how they’re crossing the river.”

  I have to remember that no one in Krymzyn swims—nor do they enter the river for any reason since, according to them, it belongs to the Serquatine. Despite how intelligent they are, the obvious answer doesn’t even occur to them.

  “They could be using a rope under the water. Instead of searching this side of the river, we should search along the banks in the Barrens for signs of where they enter the water. They must have had the Serquatine I saw in the river take something across the bottom. Is there any way we can talk to her?”

  “I could travel to the Springs,” Sash answers.

  “It’s doubtful a Serquatine will provide assistance to us,” Eval says.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Like all the Guardians of the Gateways,” Eval replies, “they have little concern for what happens in the Delta. Their purpose in this world is to protect the Gateways to the Infinite Expanse.”

  “We could still ask,” I say. “If she was injured by the Murkovin, she may want to help.”

  “It may have been difficult to discern underwater, but do you remember seeing a tint of color to the ends of her hair?” Eval asks me.

  I try to recall the image of the Serquatine from my encounter with her when Sash and I were in the river. “Blue, I think, but everything looked kind of blue, and I was really focusing on Sash.”

  “That would have been Hycinthea,” Eval says.

  “That’s her name?” I ask. “I thought everyone had four letters in their name.”

  “Only those born in the Delta,” Eval replies. “The Guardians were named by The Origin after their creation.”

  Despite the many questions her response brings to mind, especially about someone with a name like “The Origin,” I don’t want to derail the true purpose of our conversation for a Krymzyn history lesson. “I’m pretty sure it was blue,” I say.

  “If you saw blue, then it must have been Hycinthea. Each of the seven Serquatine has a distinct color in the tips of their hair.”

  “How long will it take you to get to the Springs?” I ask Sash.

  “Most of the morrow to get there and back,” she answers. “The Springs are one hundred thousand miles from here.”

  I quickly do the math, remembering my calculations of her light-blending speed based on what Larn told me. She should be able to reach the Springs in five to six hours, plus another five to six hours for the return trip to the Delta.

  “I don’t like the idea of you traveling the Barrens alone,” Eval says to Sash.

  “I’m by far the fastest person in the Delta, and no Murkovin can match my speed,” Sash replies evenly.

  Eval nods to Sash before turning to me. “Sash will seek out Hycinthea. In the meantime, we’ll search the outer banks of the river.”

  “Where’s the narrowest part?” I ask.

  “The southeast side of the Delta,” Tork answers. “A few miles northeast of where the two forks rejoin.”

  “We should start there. Our habitat is in the southern part of the Delta, so it makes the most sense.”

  “Agreed,” Tork replies.

  I turn to Sash. “Before you go to the Springs, why don’t we just see what we can find along the riverbanks? I agree with Eval. It’s dangerous for you to be alone in the Barrens.”

  “No one can catch me, Chase.”

  “I know, but let’s at least check the most logical crossing point first. If we find something, it could save a lot of time. If we don’t, you can go on the morrow.”

  “All right,” Sash replies after a brief hesitation. “Your plan makes sense.”

  An hour later, I find myself in the Barrens for the first time since returning to Krymzyn. In the sky overhead, the rich scarlet light above the Delta gradually tapers into milky white farther into the wasteland. Spreading out in pairs along a four-mile stretch of river, Tork, Sash, nine Watchers, and I all search the rocky banks at the water’s edge. Each of the seven Travelers stands on nearby hilltops, scanning the Barrens around us for Murkovin.

  With monstrous waves soaring into the air and crashing down to the rapids at our side, Sash and I walk up the riverbank. We’re almost due east of Sanctuary, I conclude, based on our distance from the southern apex of the Delta. The narrowest point of the river, less than a hundred yards across, is a few hundred yards to the north. We comb through the rocks as we walk but don’t find anything that appears to be out of the ordinary.

  “There has to be something,” I say to Sash. “They can’t just cross the river without leaving a trace.”

  “We’ll find it if it’s here,” she replies.

  We continue up the eastern fork before climbing to the top of a small hill. A large pool created by backwash from the river glistens below us. Roughly the length of an Olympic-size swimming pool and oval in shape, the lagoon of water is sheltered from the river by a high ridge of rocks.

  “What’s that pool?” I ask Sash.

  “Several like this form along the riverbanks all the way from the Springs to the Great Falls. The Serquatine sometimes rest in them if they’re swimming the river.”

  “Let’s take a closer look.”

  When we reach the pool, we slowly circle the perimeter, examining the smooth rock edges. At the southwest corner of the pool, a ten-foot-wide opening to the river is bookended by massive black boulders. Huge swells splash through the mouth, but the rest of the enclosed water is relatively calm. We’re completely hidden from the Delta by the granite ridge separating the lagoon from the river.

  Near the inland side of the pool stands a lone black-barked sustaining tree. The lower limbs have all been ripped from the trunk so that only a few upper branches remain. Sash trots to the tree as I continue searching around the banks.

  “Chase!” she calls to me.

  I glance over my shoulder at her, instantly recognizing the outrage in her eyes, no doubt the result of damage done to the tree. She motions with her hand for me to join her. As I walk towards the trunk, I spot black rope tied around the base of the tree and strewn over the roots. I bend down when I reach a frayed end of rope and grip it in my hand.

  “Have you ever seen anything like this in the Barrens?” I ask Sash.

  “No,” Sash replies, shaking her head.

  With Sash trailing a few steps behind me, I pull the rope as I return to the pool. When fully stretched, the end extends a few feet past the edge of the water.

  “I think they had the Serquatine tied in this pool,” I say to Sash. After dropping the rope to the ground, I lift my shirt over my head. “I’m going to jump in and see what I can find.”

  “You shouldn’t do that, Chase. If a Serquatine comes, you’ll be in great danger.”

  “Keep watch at the mouth,” I say, pointing to the opening to the river. “Scream as loud as you can if you see anything.”

  Sash nods to me before jogging to the mouth of the pool. Once she’s on guard, I dive into the water, surprised as always by the lack of temperature. As I swim across the smooth granite bottom, about twelve feet at its deepest point, I look for more rope under the water. Not finding anything, I surface in the center of the pool.

  “Did you see anything?” Sash asks.

  “Not yet,” I reply.

  I suck in another huge breath, dive to the bottom, and stroke towards the mouth. Occasional surges push through the small opening as I near it. Deep under the water on the opposite side of the mouth from where Sash is standing, I stop at the edge of the rocks that separate the pool from the river.

  From a natural rock formation on the bottom, an underwater stone pillar at least five feet wide reaches up almost to the surface. Thick black rope has be
en tied around the base of the scraggly rock and runs through the opening to the river. Pushing off the bottom with my feet, I shoot straight up.

  “Found it!” I yell to Sash as soon as my head breaks through the surface of the pool.

  I inhale a new breath, dive again, and grab hold of the rope. Pulling myself into the mouth, I see that the opening to the river is about ten feet deep. Past an underwater ledge, the bottom plunges downward into the murky depths. When I peek over the side, a powerful swell grabs me, trying to sweep me into the current. I cling to the rope and tow myself back into the pool. Once I return to calm water, I swim to the bank in front of Sash.

  “There’s a rope tied to a rock under the water,” I say, pulling myself out of the pool and sitting on the edge. “It leads across the bottom of the river to the other side.”

  “Let me bring the others,” she replies. “Please stay out of the water until I return.”

  “I’ll stay right here.”

  After Sash speeds away to the north, I stand up and peer across the rapids. Carefully scanning the rocks on the Delta side, I look for an end of rope, a knot, or any other sign of where they might have exited the water. Not seeing anything, I decide my theory of a tunnel or cavern under the riverbank is the only answer.

  A few minutes later, Sash, Tork, and the Watchers all join me at the pool. I quickly explain my findings to them and turn to Sash.

  “Since you’re the fastest, will you please go to the Delta? Get the longest piece of rope you can find, several if you have to. It has to be long enough to reach from here to the other side of the river and then some.”

  “You’re not going to try to cross the river, are you?” she asks.

  “If the Murkovin can pull themselves across, I can,” I reply. “I’ll tie a safety rope to me. That’s why I want more rope from the Delta. A few of the Watchers can hold on to it and pull me out if there’s a problem. Bring a knife with you, too.”

  “I don’t like this idea, Chase,” Sash complains.

  “Do you have a better one?”

  After thinking for a few moments, she shakes her head. “I’ll be back as soon as I can with the things you need.”

  When she streaks away, I turn to Tork. “My guess is the rope leads to an underwater cavern or tunnel on the other side. Will you please take a few of the Watchers, go back to the Delta, and search the banks across from us? If you see anything, yell at me. Maybe I can avoid the swim if you find something.”

  “Certainly,” he says. “How many Watchers do you need with you here.”

  “Three will do,” I say.

  Tork and most of the Watchers sprint away towards the bridge to the Delta. The three Watchers who remain with me, two of them being Vona and Cavu, spread out along the riverbank. I stand at the edge of the river, wondering how long it will take to pull myself across.

  My lung capacity has always been high from running, but as I’ve noticed during traveling practice, it’s increased dramatically since being in Krymzyn. I want to test how long I can hold my breath so that I have a reasonable idea once I’m underwater. After inhaling a huge lungful of air, I count the seconds in my head. I reach one hundred and eighty—three minutes—before really starting to feel pressure in my chest. At four minutes, I have to gasp for a new breath.

  Roughly twenty minutes later, Tork and the Watchers appear on top of the wall across the river from me. A rope drops down the side, and one by one, they lower themselves to the riverbank. As they search the edge of the water, Sash soars over a hill from the north, slows to a run, and then stops beside me.

  “Thanks, Sash,” I say, taking the enormous coil of rope from her and dropping it to the ground.

  Sash calls to the three Watchers still on our side of the river to join us. I look across the river at Tork and cup my hands around my mouth.

  “Anything?” I shout at him.

  He looks up from the water. “Nothing!” he screams over the crash of waves.

  Turning to Sash, I ask her for the knife. After she hands it to me, I cut the legs of my pants off just above the knees. Wanting to avoid a rope burn, I find my V-neck shirt on the ground by the side of the pool and slip it back on. When I return to Sash and the Watchers, I tie one end the rope Sash brought from the Delta around my waist.

  “I’m going to pull myself across the river with the rope they used,” I explain to the group. “I’d like you three to hold on to the rope tied to me while Sash feeds it out as I go. I don’t want this rope to slow me down, so leave me plenty of slack. If you feel me being swept down the river, pull me back to shore. But only if you feel the river pulling me hard to the south. As long as I’m heading across the river, I’m fine.”

  All three Watchers nod their understanding to me. I return the knife to its sheath, unclasp my belt, and slip the sheath onto it. As I refasten the belt buckle, I look at Sash.

  “Make sure I have plenty of slack,” I remind her.

  “I will,” she replies. “Be careful, Chase.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, smiling.

  Before she steps to the pile of rope, Sash briefly rests a hand on my chest. While the three Watchers take one end in their hands, Sash prepares to feed it to me from the coil. I dive into the pool, surface near the mouth, and draw in a huge breath. Submerging again beside the rock pillar, I grab the rope and pull myself into the current.

  The rushing water instantly sucks my body into the rapids, whipping my legs to the south. My hands and arms strain against the force of the water while I stabilize my grip on the rope. Once I’m confident I can maintain my hold, I begin pulling myself through the rapids. The rope gradually angles downward as I enter deeper water. Although the current is steady and strong along the bottom, it’s nothing like the turmoil above.

  About halfway across, I reach a large anvil-shaped rock on the river floor. The rope loops around the neck under the broad top of the rock and continues to the Delta. With my lungs beginning to burn, I pick up my pace after I pass the rock. Hand over hand, as rapidly as I can, I pull myself towards the bank.

  I jerk backwards, barely able to cling to the rope, when a face pops up in front of mine.

  Chapter 15

  A pocket of still water suddenly surrounds me. I’ve seen the beauty of the woman’s face in front of me before. White-blond hair floats in the static water, sparkling green eyes stare into mine, and a dark scar necklaces her slender throat. Remembering Sash’s warning, I keep a firm grip on the rope with one hand while slipping my other hand to my side. When I take the knife hilt in my grasp, the Serquatine’s eyes drop to my waist.

  Her golden lips press firmly together as she returns her eyes to mine. Scowling at me, she shakes her head, so I slowly move my hand away from the knife and raise it to my chest. After hitting my sternum a few times with my fist, I point to my mouth, trying to let her know that I’m struggling to hold in air. If she were planning to kill me, I assume she would’ve already made a move.

  She floats through the water to my side and reaches an arm around my waist. As she pulls me against her nude body, the skin pressed against mine feels soft and satiny smooth. Long, webbed fingers wrap around the wrist of my hand holding onto the rope. She firmly tugs my arm, leaving me no choice but to release my grip.

  With a powerful kick from the fins at the ends of her legs, she launches us in the direction of the Delta. The shield of calm water encases us as we follow the path of the rope. In seconds, we leave the river depths and enter a small, dark opening deep under the rocks along the bank. While she propels us through a narrow tunnel, the only light inside shines from her emerald eyes.

  We sharply angle up until we splash through the water’s surface and into air. Inside a pitch-black void, I gasp for breath, the dazzling green of her eyes dancing in the ripples around us. She releases her hold on my waist and we both tread water in the dark.

  “Awaken,” she says, her soft, melodic voice echoing around us.

  A dull golden glow illuminates from a crys
tal ceiling ten feet over our heads. When I look around us, I see that we’re inside a tiny pool in the center of a small underground cavern. I sidestroke to the edge, pull myself onto the flat granite surface, and sit with my feet dangling in the water.

  “Thank you for helping me,” I say.

  Without answering, she swims to the edge of the pool. After lifting herself out of the water, she sits on the stone ledge beside me. Her wavy blond hair falls over her shoulders and down the front of her chest. Despite just coming out the water, her locks are full and dry. As though radiating from a light inside her, the tips of her hair glow with vibrant royal blue. Long, bare legs hang into the pool, the broad fins on their ends gently swaying underneath the surface.

  No other person can ever be as beautiful to me as Sash is. But if someone commissioned me as an artist to create a painting of a woman evoking eternal beauty, the kind of beauty that transcends generations and time, I would choose the face in front of mine. Her high cheekbones, the gentle curve to her chin, her bold eyebrows over piercing green eyes, and a straight, thin nose set above full golden lips are delicately beautiful yet striking at the same time.

  “My name is Chase,” I say.

  “I am called Hycinthea,” she replies. “You are not born of this plane.”

  Her voice has a dreamy, ethereal quality to it when she speaks, as though the words are not only coming from inside her but also from the air around me.

  “No, but it’s the only one I have now,” I say.

  “Have you met death in your world?” she asks.

  “I have,” I answer. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I need let the others know I’m safe. Then I’d like to talk with you more to find out what you know about the Murkovin, if you don’t mind.”

  “By all means,” she says.

  After standing from the pool, I untie the rope from around my waist. While glancing around the cavern, I spot a narrow unlit tunnel in the base of the wall. A shallow stream flows out of it and spreads over the rocky ground before spilling into the pool. I walk to the opening of the tunnel and crawl a few feet inside the cramped passage.