by BC Powell
“The custom developed a very long time ago,” I say. “Fighting among people in my world was common at the time.”
“I hope your world knows peace in the future,” he replies.
“Thank you. Me too.”
“Marc was my primary Keeper when I was child,” Sash says warmly. “He’s very wise and very brave.”
“It was my honor to be of service to Sash,” he replies as he bows to her.
The girl behind Marc leans out from behind him and interrupts us. “Your eyes are strange,” she says to me in a soft, high-pitched voice.
“Maya,” Marc says evenly, stepping aside and turning to her. “Please don’t say anything that might make Chase feel uncomfortable. He’s already proven that he’s part of Krymzyn.”
Folding her hands in front of her, Maya frowns and looks down at the ground.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say to Marc. After stepping forward to Maya, I crouch in front of her and smile. “Blue eyes are common in my world, but you’re right. They are strange here.”
She raises her eyes from the grass, pointing her thin, sharp nose at my face. “Do you like being in Krymzyn?”
“I do, or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Does it frighten you?” she asks with true concern in her voice.
“No, not really. Sometimes a little, but everyone is very helpful.”
“You were quite clever in your Ritual. I’ve never heard of anyone jumping on to a limb of the Tree of Vision.”
“Thank you,” I reply, smiling at how mature she sounds. “That’s really nice of you to say.”
“Can you blend your light yet?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
Sash bends down and rests her hands on her knees. “That’s why he’s here now to visit the clouds with you. It will help him find a greater awareness of the world around him.”
“You’re fortunate to spend so much time with Sash,” Maya says to me.
“I am fortunate,” I reply, standing upright again while Sash does the same.
When Maya looks up at Sash, her amber eyes light up. “She’s amazing to be with.”
Sash raises one finger to her lips and pretends to scratch an itch, but she’s really shushing Maya. Marc frowns slightly, obviously knowing some reference I’m not aware of.
“Maya is typically very quiet,” Marc says to me. “You seem to awaken her curiosity.”
“I’m glad,” I say to Marc before returning my focus to Maya. “Maybe after I learn to blend my light, I’ll take you across the Delta.”
“Only if you’re good at it,” she says firmly. “I don’t want to be injured.”
“He will be good,” Sash says.
“I hope so,” I mumble.
Sash turns to Marc. “Thank you for letting us join you.”
“The children always enjoy the experience,” Marc replies. “We’re honored that you want to take part.”
“What exactly are we doing?” I ask.
“An exercise we frequently partake in with the children,” Marc replies. “It’s a way to increase your sense of awareness. We call it visiting the clouds.”
“It’s easier in a group,” Sash says to me. “I’ll help you as we go.”
The seven Keepers and six children spread out in a giant circle around the center of the meadow. After Sash guides me to our places in the ring, we lie down on our backs, roughly an arm’s length away from the next person. Maya stretches out on my left side, Marc on the other side of her, and Sash to my right.
“You want to separate the particles of your mind,” Sash says. “Feel the people around you as they do the same. You can then float up to the clouds and blend with them.”
“Are you speaking literally or figuratively?” I ask.
“Both,” Sash says. “You’ll know when you feel it. Your body won’t physically go to the clouds, but your sense of awareness will be released to the sky, and your body will feel as though it’s there with your mind.”
“How do I do that?”
“It’s similar to what you felt when you saw the beams trying to travel.”
“Did he fall?” Maya asks.
“He did, but it wasn’t bad,” Sash replies.
“Did he break any bones?”
“Not yet,” Sash says.
I quietly chuckle at Maya’s questions and Sash’s responses.
“Everyone, focus on the clouds,” Marc says loudly. “Feel the thoughts of all around you and let your minds wander into the sky. When you feel peace, close your eyes and release your spectrum.”
I’ve never practiced meditation, although I’ve read about transcendental and out-of-body experiences. Lying in the velvety blades of grass, I try to sense everything around me while also blocking out thought—easier said than done. Staring up at the sky, I begin by concentrating only on the clouds. When I glance around at the others, I see them close their eyes, so I do the same. As minutes pass in the peaceful silence of Krymzyn, I try to focus on releasing the spectrum of my mind, although I’m not sure I know how.
“Chase isn’t with us,” Maya says quietly.
“He’s trying,” Sash replies. She slips her hand into mine. “Let go of your mind, Chase. Forget sight, sound, touch, and thought by focusing only on your inner awareness. Remember what you felt at the Reflecting Pool?”
I think back to that moment when my sense of awareness opened, but I was making love to Sash at the time. “I don’t think we can do that here,” I whisper.
She squeezes my hand. “Not that,” she says. “I mean what you felt when you let go of thought.”
“I’ll try,” I reply.
“I’ll help you. Stay with me.”
I gaze at the clouds again, my hand still firm in Sash’s grip, and eventually close my eyes. A numb feeling slowly spreads from my hand, up into my arm, and then through my entire body. The only explanation I can come up with is that Sash is somehow injecting her own awareness into me. As I lose the feel of my hand in hers and the ground underneath my body, I seem to float on the tips of the grass.
Like springing up from a trampoline, I suddenly burst away from the ground. Thousands of tingles ignite inside me when I feel my particles spread across the air. I take in a slow deep breath while floating weightlessly up to the sky. The clouds begin to caress my nerves, wisp through my veins, and swirl inside my mind.
But it’s not just the clouds I feel. I sense Sash, Maya, Marc, and every other Keeper and child. As though our particles are intermixing, I’m aware of their presence inside me. I can’t read their thoughts, but I feel the serenity from inside them and know they’re aware of me as well. An overwhelming calm fills me, pure contentment and fulfillment, while all of us blend together inside the softness of the clouds.
Time completely fades away and my conscious thought gradually dissipates as I hover far above the ground. The faint pricks of my body spread out a mile wide, the particles of my mass bristling against everyone else’s inside the airy billows.
* * *
All at once, my particles slowly drift to the ground as though my body is made of a thousand falling snowflakes. My consciousness gradually returns with a multitude of tiny sparks in my skin. I become aware again of the grass beneath me, the clouds far overhead, and my hand in Sash’s grip.
“Wow!” I gasp. “How did we do that?”
“You opened your sense of awareness,” Sash says, turning her face to mine.
“It was like you reached inside me and took me with you.”
“I just got you started. You did the rest.”
“How long were we there?”
“It’s now the middle of the morrow,” Sash replies.
“Unreal,” I whisper, astounded that hours passed with us inside the clouds.
“Did you find it enlightening?” Maya asks.
“It was amazing,” I answer.
When everyone else in the circle sits up, Sash and I do the same.
“We’re honored to hav
e shared this with you,” Marc says to me, bowing his head.
“Believe me,” I say, “the honor is all mine.”
After we all stand, Sash steps to Maya and quickly whispers something in her ear. I scan the circle of Keepers and children, noticing the peaceful, relaxed expressions on their faces.
“Thank you for letting me do this with you,” I say to the group.
They all bow slightly in the manner of Krymzyn.
“Please join us any time,” Marc says.
“Thank you,” I reply. Looking at Maya, I smile to her. “Thanks for your help.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she says.
“Just being beside you helped me a lot.”
Mark interrupts us by calling out to everyone in a loud voice. “It’s time for sustenance.”
“I hope you’re soon successful at traveling,” Maya says to me.
“Thank you, Maya.”
She nods to me before walking away with the other children and Keepers towards the caverns of Home. Sash and I stroll to the south with our spears slung over our shoulders. We pause while I drop to one knee to let Larn know I’m heading to the Traveling Hill. At the far side of the meadow, Sash slips her hand into mine.
“Shall I transport you to the Traveling Hill?” she asks.
“Can we just walk for a while?” I reply. “I feel very relaxed from being up in the clouds.”
“Of course,” Sash says, smiling.
“What was that all about with Maya?”
“She’s a bit different than the other children,” Sash answers. “She’s very quiet and withdrawn. I was surprised she talked to you as much as she did, but she seems to feel safe with you. She’s easily frightened. I still dwelled at Home when she was a small child, so I’ve always tried to help her. Before we left, I told her I’d spend some time with her soon.”
“She seems to really like you,” I say.
“I sneak her away during Communal sometimes and take her to quiet places where we can talk. Marc turns his back when I do. It’s wrong of me to show favor for one child over another, but I can’t help it. I feel like she needs me.”
“I don’t think that’s wrong of you,” I say, realizing that Sash is providing the compassion to Maya that she herself longed for as a child.
“It’s just not our way. All are equal, but she needs more encouragement than the others. I try to let her know that, like her, I felt different when I was a child. She needs something that others here can’t give her because they don’t understand.”
“Why does she feel different?” I ask.
While we continue walking, Sash looks into my eyes. “She has an extraordinary sense of awareness. She can sink her fingers into the ground and tell you how any person in the Delta feels. She can’t tell you what they’re thinking, but she knows if someone is tired, troubled, or in pain. Marc told me that she started screaming when the Watcher was killed by Balt. She could feel his death. Those can be very frightening experiences for her.”
I’m reminded of Larn’s words that all the children who were at Home with Sash are extraordinary in some way. It’s as though each of them has a piece of Sash in them—even one of her gifts, as I think more about it.
“Have you ever had a glimpse of her future?” I ask.
“No,” Sash replies. “I don’t think I will. Some are hidden from me. I’d like to see what her purpose is. More than any I’ve ever seen, I want to know hers.”
“Why?”
“Maya’s greatest fear is that she’ll have no purpose.”
“Why would she think that?” I ask.
“Fear doesn’t have to be justified or logical. The worst fears are often illogical. But fear of the unknown can be the greatest of all.”
“I guess you’re right,” I say. “I feel it here every morrow when I wake up.”
Sash tightens her grip on my hand. “But you’re conquering those fears. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. You don’t let fear stand in your way.”
“Believe me. I have my share of fears.”
“We all do,” Sash says quietly.
“I can’t imagine you being afraid of anything.”
She smiles at me but doesn’t reply.
As we silently stroll to the Traveling Hill, I replay every moment of visiting the clouds in my mind. With the surreal feeling of releasing my spectrum fresh in my memory and an almost quintessential energy flowing through my limbs, I’m determined that this is the morrow I blend my light.
Chapter 17
Larn and Tela are already waiting for us on the top of the Traveling Hill when we reach the crest.
“I took Chase to visit the clouds with the children,” Sash says to Larn.
“Was he able to do it?” Larn asks.
“With a little help,” she answers.
“That was wise of you. The experience should be beneficial to him.”
“I think it will be,” she replies to Larn before turning to me. “Do you mind if I leave you with Larn and Tela?”
I smile at Sash. “I don’t mind at all.”
“Summon me when you’re finished.”
“I will.” Then I silently mouth, “I love you.”
She mouths the same three words to me, nods to Larn and Tela, and runs down the side of the hill. After watching the luminescent trails of Sash gust away, I look at Larn. A thermos-sized steel canister hangs by rope from one of his shoulders.
“Do you mind if I ask what that’s for?”
“This is a Traveler’s canister,” he replies, holding it up for me to see. “They’re filled with sap and kept near the gate. We take several with us when we travel to the Infinite Expanse.”
“Are you going to the Expanse later?” I ask.
“No. I brought it for you. You’re very close to blending your light, and we’ve found that extra sap is sometimes needed at this point in the process.”
“I’m not surprised. I definitely feel how much energy I’m using.”
“Sap is beneficial in many ways,” he replies.
“It sure is,” I say.
In my usual pre-traveling-lesson routine, I take a few sips of sap and stretch my legs. When I run back and forth between the hills, Larn and Tela take turns beside me. Each time my bare feet cross the grassy meadow, I experience the momentary glitch. On my fourth run down the Traveling Hill, with Tela lagging slightly behind me, I focus with as much intensity as I can. As I did while visiting the clouds, I try to let go of conscious thought, sensing the world around me.
At the bottom of the hill, light blooms from the landscape and I blast forward. Encased in a multicolored web, I tunnel my vision to the beams moving in my direction. My stomach surges into my throat when my body explodes into a glittering sandstorm across the field. I’m so astonished by the sensation that my mind goes blank. In that split second of lost concentration, I feel the particles of my body slap back together with a resounding sting.
My arms flapping wildly by my sides, I must tumble fifty yards through the air. I realize I’ve already crossed the entire length of the field when I slam into the side of the other hill. Like a crash test dummy—no control whatsoever over my body—I limply bounce up the slope. I finally flop to a halt on my back, staring straight up at the sky.
I try to lift my head but scream out in pain. Glancing down at my body, I see a splintered bone jutting out of the skin of my left forearm with blood spouting from the wound. My left arm dangles limply from my shoulder, obviously dislocated, while blood drips from my nose and mouth. My head falls back to the grass, my vision spins, and I don’t want to try to move again. The spiraling images of Larn and Tela appear above me.
“You’ve broken a bone,” Larn says calmly.
“I think more than one,” I groan.
“We all do,” Tela says.
“Thanks for warning me,” I mutter, wincing at each word I speak.
“It’s simply part of the learning process,” Larn replies.
He d
rops to his knees beside me, quickly unscrews the top of the canister, and holds it to my lips. After reaching a hand behind my neck, he raises my head up to an angle so I can drink. Torment spurts out of my neck and races down my spine, but I manage to take a few sips.
“Tela, will you hold his shoulder in place?” Larn asks, taking the canister away from my mouth.
Tela kneels beside my head and lightly grips my shoulder in her hands. Lifting my arm from the grass, Larn examines the fracture. Blood continues to trickle down my skin from the cracked bone that’s sticking out of my limb. He lays my arm down on the ground with one of his hands underneath the break. While pouring sap over the wound, he looks up at something across the meadow.
“Is that Sash?” he asks.
As soon as I turn my head, my body jerks off the ground from the shock of Larn snapping my bone back into place.
“What the fuck!” I shout.
“I thought distracting you might lessen the pain,” Larn says flatly.
“What is ‘what the fuck’?” Tela asks.
“It’s an expression when you’re mad,” I moan. “It’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not a polite word.”
“What is its meaning?”
“Can we not do this now, Tela?” I snap. “I’m kind of messed up, in case you didn’t notice.”
Tela frowns at me before roughly popping my shoulder back into the socket. Every muscle in my body clenches from the sudden bolt of agony.
“Would you tell me before you do that!” I yell.
“Here,” Tela says, holding her flask to my lips and ignoring my remark. “Drink this.”
I drain about half her flask. As the sap flows inside me, I finally feel the misery begin to ease. Larn pours sap into one of his hands, rubs it over my forearm, and carefully finishes aligning the bone.
“Where else are you injured?” Larn asks.
“My back and shoulders,” I say, hoping my spine isn’t shattered.
“Can you sit up?”
With his help, I slowly sit upright, feeling a few painful spikes in my upper back and the shoulder that Tela forced back into place, but they’re not as severe as moments earlier.