by BC Powell
Chapter 22
When I graze the edge of a branch, it rips a deep gash into my side. Sailing off the side of the road, I lose my concentration from the sudden bolt of pain. My particles collapse, I flip through the air, and I pound into the ground. The splintering of a bone resonates from inside my arm as I tumble to a stop.
To my left, four Murkovin spring from behind a hilltop and charge at me. Glancing to my right, I spot four more beasts climbing out of a ravine. They’ve cut off the east and west, taking away my escape to the Delta or the Mount.
I twist my head to look over my shoulder. The five Murkovin I saw traveling through the Barrens have already reached the road. The muscular beasts are now sprinting in my direction, spears swinging by their sides. Snapping my head to look in front of me, I see three more streams of light rocket out of the wasteland from the north. As they recede into Murkovin bodies, the final claws of an elaborately designed trap are clamping down on me.
My right forearm swells around the break and blood drips from my face. I jump to my feet but stumble from pain riveting through my back and legs. Desperately looking for my spear on the ground, I don’t see it anywhere in sight. With the creatures on three sides of me closing in, I dash into the Barrens to the north, straight towards the Murkovin racing in my direction.
Glints of light reflect from steel when they take aim with their spears. Just before I reach them, I fake to my left, causing the creatures to hesitate for a moment. Like making a headfirst slide into home base, I dive to the ground between two of the brutes. They both lunge their weapons down at me. Threading the needle between their feet, I slide safely by the first spear, but the second point lances the side of my thigh.
I leap to my feet. Clutching my broken arm against my stomach and limping from the spear wound in my leg, I take off into the Barrens. As soon as a maze of light gleams into my vision, I focus on the shafts flowing to the north. The jolt triggers searing waves of agony through my body, but I’m able to streak away.
In a parallel path to mine, several beams of light travel on my western flank. Spread out across the hills, the Murkovin are blocking my path to the Delta. I arc to the east, but more shapes of light cross the wasteland in that direction, a row of Murkovin between me and the Mount. When I look over my shoulder, I see the horde chasing me. My only escape is straight to the north.
Skimming over the rocky black hills, I reach speeds I’ve never felt before, but excruciating pain makes it difficult to keep my focus. Every time I crest a hill, I glance around to find the Murkovin are still in pursuit, even though I’m gradually gaining miles on them. They can’t match my speed, but I don’t know how much farther I can go with the torment in my body.
At the base of a steep, chiseled hill, when I’m out of the creatures’ sight, I cut sharply into a valley to the northeast. A few miles in the distance, a dry gully runs south to north. I reach the edge of the ravine and my particles slip over the side, sinking from ray of light to ray of light.
As soon as my feet hit the dirt, I start to lose control, but I manage to refocus enough to keep from crashing to the ground. Once my motion stabilizes, I weave through the snaking curves of the gully to the north, hoping I’m out of sight.
After less than a minute in the ravine, the pain becomes unbearable. My forward motion falters and I begin to feel dizzy. A tiny stream of particles has been falling away from my body as I’ve been traveling, leaving a trail of blood in my wake. Before receding out of my blend, I look all around me. Not seeing a trace of the Murkovin, I jam to a stop against the wall of the ravine. Listening for any sound of the beasts, I’m relieved by silence.
I rip one flask from my belt—the same one I drank from on the Mount—and drain the remaining sap inside. My mind immediately clears and my vision stops spinning.
While my eyes dart around the empty gully again, I unclip the second flask from my side. Careful not to let a precious drop spill, I pour a small amount on my broken forearm. An inch-high angle in the bone above my wrist shows me exactly where the break is. I grip the flask with my teeth, rub the sap into my skin, and lay my arm against the wall of the ravine.
Taking a deep breath, I rest my free hand against the broken bone. When I snap it into place, I stagger from a wildfire racing through my arm. With my hands shaking, I pour sap into my palm and rub it over my arm and shoulder. Once the pain eases, I drip more sap onto the gash in my side and the bloody gouge in my thigh. Both wounds stop bleeding as I smear the sap over them.
I throw my body against the side of the ravine when a raspy voice shouts out from above, “He must be in the gully!”
“Find him!” another Murkovin yells. “Balt wants him alive.”
Fifty yards to the south, two Murkovin leap into the ravine. I drain the last of the sap from my flask before dropping it to the ground. Revitalized with energy, I sprint away from the beasts and torpedo onto the shafts of light.
The ravine gradually rises until I’m returned to the seemingly endless wasteland. I flow over hills and fly across valleys while traveling due north. When I scan around me, blurs of white web across the Barrens in the distance to the east, west, and south.
I try to let my mind drift into a calm, meditative state. Hours and hours seem to pass while I focus only on the beams headed to the north, but I eventually lose track of time. I keep my breathing slow and steady, the running motion of my body smooth and effortless, letting the light carry me over the plains.
After a broad, level area of what I guess is several thousand miles, hills gradually grow taller in front of me. Trying to stay out of sight as much as possible, I weave through the valleys and occasionally arc around a gangly tree in the flats. Using the light overhead as my compass, I steer on a path predominantly to the north.
I have no idea how much distance I’ve put between myself and the Murkovin over the time that passes, but I know I can’t go much farther. I’m a dead man if they catch me, so I fight to stay with the blend. As complete exhaustion eventually sets in, I sense my particles trying to suck back into me.
When I cross over a large hill, a wall of multicolored light undulates across the horizon. Like the northern lights waving against a daytime sky, a barrier of transparent colors is woven from the ground to the sky and stretched out as far as I can see to the sides. Where the light meets the static clouds, brilliant colors streak across the billows as though they’re millions of chromatic shooting stars. I’m near the edge of the Infinite Expanse, I realize. I almost can’t grasp the reality that I’ve traveled nearly one hundred thousand miles.
Finally losing the last of my focus and strength, I curve through a valley and let my particles recede into my body. Falling to my hands to my knees, I try to catch my breath. My flesh wounds have healed, and I only feel a few dull throbs from the broken arm. Several minutes later, my breathing returns to normal so I stand to my feet. When I look at the barrier of colored light, I estimate that the Infinite Expanse is less than a mile away.
I slowly climb a steep hill by my side. Before I reach the crest, I drop to all fours, crawl to the edge of a ridge, and lie on my stomach. As my eyes roam across the Barrens to the south, I don’t see a glimpse of a human shape or moving light, just endless empty hills. If what Beck told me about my traveling speed being faster than that of the Murkovin is accurate, they could still be thousands of miles away.
After rolling onto my back, I gaze up at the sky above me, trying to make sense of what happened. The body splattered over the blockade of branches in the road must have been Beck. How could he be dead? How could that have happened? With the flash of speed I saw from him when we reached the first blind hill, he must have been traveling too fast to cut off the road as I did. I hear Sash in my mind.
“He’s strong and loyal, but a bit reckless at times.”
The memory of her words doesn’t lessen the devastation I feel from his death. But unable to fight the overwhelming exhaustion any longer, I pass out.
* * *
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nbsp; I jerk upright when my eyes open. Staring at a nebula of colors over the hills a mile away, I try to guess how long I was asleep but have no idea. I roll onto my stomach and peek again over the top of the hill. The Barrens stretch out as far as I can see, still and lonely, with no other creature in sight. My face sinks into my hands when I remember what happened to Beck.
Even with the despair I feel from his death, I have to find a way to get back to the Delta. I might have outrun the beasts, but I’m sure they’re still hunting for me. If I go to the west, I’ll eventually reach the river and can follow it to the south. I glance up at the sky, taking note of the direction of light over the wasteland. Ingrained in my mind from long ago is the message that the light always points to the north in Krymzyn.
Once I have my bearings, I stand and walk down the rocky slope. Near the bottom, I pause to make sure no Murkovin are lurking nearby. After several minutes of not hearing a sound or seeing any movement, I run into the valley leading west.
As soon as I feel the glitch, the tangled beams appear for a moment. I try to separate my particles, but the light immediately fades and I sprawl to the ground. Lying in the black dirt, I’m painfully aware that I don’t have enough energy left to blend my light.
I return to my feet, brush the dirt off me, and walk to the west. Wanting to calculate where I am in relationship to the river, I estimate I was about halfway between the Mount and the Delta when I reached the blockade in the road that killed Beck. If my route to where I am now was almost due north, I should be no more than forty miles from the river. That’s assuming the river flows in a more or less straight path. If I’m lucky, it might be closer.
Miles of black dirt and hours of solitude fall behind me as I tread to the west. I occasionally rest on a hilltop, surveying the Barrens for any sign of Murkovin. The sustaining trees in the area are sparse, several miles apart, many of them enormous and untouched.
What feels like an entire morrow passes before I reach a series of gradually steepening hills. Huge black boulders line their sides, but there’s no plant life of any kind. In the sky overhead, the light tints with rich shades of blue. As I climb over the top of a hill, I feel a surge of relief at the sight of water in front of me. The river is no more than two miles away. I scan the terrain in search of Murkovin, but my eyes stop when they reach an image of surreal natural beauty to the north.
The tallest hill in sight stands at the head of the river. A pyramid of terraced pools cascades down the side of the enormous rocky slope. A series of small shallow waterfalls spills from each pool down to the next. Sparkling with aqua light from overhead, the pools are calm and inviting. Water lilies with golden light glowing from snow-white petals grow from pads of green around the edges of the pools. At the bottom of the hill, the spills of water funnel into one broad flow—the beginning of the river.
Peaceful at first, the river cuts through the wasteland and descends along a gradual slope to the south. As it flows downhill, rapids rise from the surface until the huge swells I’m used to seeing leap out of the water farther downstream.
After walking down the hill, I cross a wide valley to the base of the giant slope. Knowing I’ll need some type of help to get back to the Delta, I hope I can find Hycinthea at what I assume are the Springs. I have to navigate around monstrous boulders while climbing up the side of the hill. About half way to the top, I reach a serene crystal-clear pool. While standing beside the water, all I can think is how good it would feel to dive in.
I flinch away from the pool when a Serquatine splashes through the surface in the center. She looks almost identical to Hycinthea, as if they’re sisters. Her brilliant emerald eyes and golden lips highlight a face of alluring beauty, and vibrant kelly-green illuminates the ends of her bleach-blond waves.
“Greetings, Traveler,” the Serquatine calls out to me. “Are you here to enter the Infinite Expanse?”
I shake my head, not taking my eyes off her. “No. I’m kind of lost, to be honest.”
“Is it not obvious that you are at the Springs?” she asks, her voice suffused with the same transcendence that Hycinthea’s had in the underground cavern.
“I’m new to Krymzyn,” I say. “Is there any sap here?”
“There is no sap here,” she replies, “unless you want to wait for Darkness to take it from one of the trees of the Barrens.” Leaving a gentle wake in the water behind her, she glides across the pool in my direction. When she reaches the side, she lightly takes one of the lilies in the webbed fingers of her hand. Her voice floats into my ears as though she’s all around me when she speaks again. “If you need energy, nectar will provide it for you.”
“Can people other than Guardians drink nectar?” I ask.
“You are the one from another world,” she says, not answering my question. “You are the one who helped Hycinthea, are you not?”
“That’s me.”
“I am called Viridania.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say. “My name is Chase.”
“You are able to swim, so I have been told.”
“I am,” I answer. “Just about everybody in my world swims.”
She tilts her head to the side and gazes into my eyes. “You should join me in the pool. You may find it refreshing.”
“I don’t think so,” I say, remembering Hycinthea’s warning. “I’ll stay up here.”
Another Serquatine, just as beautiful and captivating as the first, emerges through the surface of the pool behind Viridania. Cherry red glows from the tips of her hair.
“Greetings, Traveler,” she says. “Rosealea is my name. Are you here to venture into the Infinite Expanse?”
“No,” I reply, glancing back and forth between the two women. “I was running from Murkovin and ended up here.”
“Fear not the Murkovin,” Rosealea replies. “They will never set foot so close to our Gateway.” She eases through the water towards me. “Your body is covered in blood. You should cleanse in the pool with us.”
“I’m fine. Thanks,” I answer, but the glimmering water is looking more and more appealing. “I need to get back to the Delta, but I don’t have enough energy to blend my light and I’m not sure how to get there.”
“The river flows to the Delta,” she replies, her voice sultry and hypnotic. “Nectar will give you the energy you need.”
I look away from the pool for a moment, trying to break free of the bewitching spell of their voices. “Is Hycinthea here?” I eventually ask, returning my eyes to Viridania.
“She is somewhere down the river,” she answers.
Both of the Serquatine suddenly dive under the water. With tremendous grace and power, they shoot through the surface and soar upward over a small waterfall. After they splash into the next pool above, I walk up the hill to stand in front of them. They both stare at me while floating on their backs in the tranquil water.
“Do you know when Hycinthea will return?” I ask.
“She will return when she returns,” Viridania replies.
“Revitalize in the pool, Traveler,” Rosealea urges.
“I think I’m fine,” I reply.
“We can go to the top pool if you desire,” Viridania suggests. “It is quite large, and we will remain on the far side if you do not trust us.”
They obviously know why I’m hesitant to enter the water. At this point, I’m certain they’re trying to lure me in for my blood, although I can’t imagine I have much sap left inside me. It’s a game to them, but they’re my only hope for help right now. I can’t walk one hundred thousand miles to the Delta, summoning won’t work from here, and I have no idea how to get sap from a sustaining tree in the Barrens if Darkness falls. Not to mention, from everything I’ve heard, I don’t think I want to drink sap from the trees in the wasteland.
After diving under the water again, the two Serquatine launch over the small spillway into the next pool up. I climb the rocks, following them upward as they pass through another three pools. With almost no energy left in my
body, it takes me twenty minutes to reach the top of the hill.
On the round surface of the hilltop, inside a volcano-like crater, the highest pool is an immense circle at least two hundred feet across. Flourishing water lilies surround the edges. Dissecting the center of the pool and reflecting in the surface, a curtain of fluctuating colors hangs from the sky to the water. The wall of light, which I know is the barrier to the Infinite Expanse, spreads out to the east and west. The billows overhead are pure sky blue and streaked with an array of colors, while bright aqua light shines around the entire top of the hill.
Viridania and Rosealea swim to the far side of the pool from me. While they linger next to the lily pads, I step onto a circular, flat-topped rock at the edge of the pool near the fall.
“Are you sure nectar will give me enough energy to travel again?” I ask.
They turn their faces towards me, but neither of them answers. Their expressions seem less frivolous all of a sudden, almost solemn, and maybe even a little bit angry. Viridania leans her face to a white flower, cups it in her hands, and rests her mouth in the center. Careful not to damage it, she gently envelops the golden stamens with her lips.
I step down from the rock and kneel beside the lilies. Fluorescent yellow stamens dance above the white petals, casting soft golden light inside the flowers. When I glance at the Serquatine, they seem relaxed again, almost smiling to me.
“Please enjoy the nectar of the lilies,” Viridania calls to me. “But be careful to never damage the flowers as you drink. You will regain the strength you desire.”
With no other option, I lie down on my stomach with my head over the edge of the pool. Keeping a watchful eye on the Serquatine, I wrap my lips around the inside of a flower. Liquid spurts into my mouth, and I pull my head away in surprise. Although the nectar is flavorless, I sense sweetness on my tongue, almost like a memory of the taste of honey.
As soon as I swallow, an unquenchable thirst consumes me. I lower my lips to the flower and gulp the nectar down until I’m gasping for breath. Fresh, potent energy instantly pumps through my veins, and my muscles involuntarily ripple with new strength.