by BC Powell
“Not now,” she replies. “When I was a child, it was horrible to see this. I’d come to the Infinite Expanse and sit alone on a hill so I could watch myself. My stomach would knot with pain at the sight of what I could become.
“After you and I spent time together on the Tall Hill, I knew that I could always keep this fear at a distance. I sensed how you balanced the mix of emotions you felt during your visits. Whenever I felt the power try to take control of me, I thought of you. I knew you’d return, and I’d never want you to see me like that. So, instead of dreading my fear, I had your return to look forward to.
“I feel safer with you than I ever felt alone. Safe from my own power. If you ever question why I love you the way I do, you have your answer. I’m stronger because I love you and because of your love for me.”
Sash looks at her own image standing on the rock. “I will never be you!” she shouts.
Shaking with an outburst of energy, she clenches her jaw while pointing her spear at the meadow below us. Her power swells around us the same way it did when she stared down Balt during one of my visits many years earlier. The entire scene violently swirls into a tornado of black dust. As the tumultuous funnel sweeps away, a trail of ebony specks scatters across the ground.
After her body relaxes, Sash peers into my eyes. “You balance me in a way no one else can.”
Any doubts I’ve ever had about why Sash could love me are slipping away. And I know they won’t return.
“I’ve had a lot of highs and lows since arriving in Krymzyn,” I say. “No matter what, you always center me. When I’m happy, you lift me higher. When I’m down, you pick me up. I doubt myself sometimes, but you give me confidence. I’m a better person with you than I ever was alone.”
She reaches her arms to me, and I step into them. We gently kiss before pulling each other into a long, caring embrace.
“All our thoughts can come to life here, right?” I ask in her ear.
“That’s right,” she replies.
“Even good ones?”
“If your mind is strong enough to give them life.”
I lean back from her with a smile on my face. “Come with me.”
Holding hands, we walk down the hill. I focus on a place I want to show her more than anything else I can imagine. A place more beautiful to me than any other, not only in its visual quality, but because of the peace I feel when I’m there. As we cross a valley and climb up the side of another hill, I imagine it in my mind, smell it, listen to it, and try to fill every one of my senses with a vivid memory.
When we reach the crest, Sash stops, gasps, and squeezes my hand.
Sparkling in front of us like a rolling field of aqua crystals spread to the horizon, the Pacific Ocean stretches as far as we can see. Under a cloudless light-blue sky, peaceful waves break onto on the deserted white sands of Zuma Beach. The sun, blazing in tones of late afternoon red and orange, hovers over the horizon.
I turn to Sash and study her face. I’ve described the ocean, sun, and sky from my world to her. I’d planned on eventually painting it for her to see, but nothing can compare to the real thing. I’m amazed and overwrought with joy that I could bring this scene to life. Sash’s eyes are damp with tears of appreciation as she gazes at the beauty in front of us.
“Come on,” I say, pulling her by the hand and trotting down the hill.
At the bottom of the slope, we run across the sand, but Sash stops and digs her toes into the white grains. She looks up at my face, smiling with her eyes wide open.
“Warm, like the sands of the Dunes,” she says.
“You can feel it?” I ask.
“I can,” she replies, rubbing her arm. “And on my skin from the air.”
“That’s from the sun,” I say. “Maybe you can feel cold too.” I pull my shirt over my head, unclasp my belt, and take my pants and boots off.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Undress,” I say. “We’re going swimming.”
“I don’t know how to swim.”
“I’ll take care of you,” I say. “I promise.”
As she slips out of her clothes, the porcelain skin of her slender body radiates the rich colors of the sun, a warm bronze glow surrounding her. With her hand in mine, I lead her to the edge of the ocean. When the next wave breaks, white foam leads the water up the sand and over our feet.
“Ah!” Sash exclaims, goose bumps rising from her skin.
“That’s cold,” I say. “You’ll get used to it.”
We slowly step into the sea until the water is waist-high. Sash shivers as her body adjusts to the frigid sensation. We hold hands and face seaward, waiting for the next wave to form.
“We’re going to dive under the wave when it breaks,” I say. “Let it pass over you and then come up behind the crest like you did in the rapids. But you’ll be able to stand. It’s shallow.”
“I can’t swim,” she reminds me.
“It’ll be okay, Sash. I won’t let go of you.”
She smiles and nods to me before turning her face to the ocean. A small wave forms, and just before it splashes down on us, I tighten my grasp on her hand.
“Now!” I shout.
Together, we dive under the wave and come out the back side. For the first time in Krymzyn, I feel truly wet. Drenched hair clings to my head while my skin tingles with numbness from the cold water. Sash’s hair hangs around her face, dripping wet. Her damp strands of scarlet glisten brightly in the sunlight.
“My hair is wet!” she exclaims.
“That’s what water does to us in my world,” I reply.
She runs her tongue across her lips. “What’s the odd feeling in my mouth?”
Tasting the salt on my lips, I know what she’s referring to. “That’s your sense of taste. I explained it to you once. You’re tasting a mineral in the water called salt.”
She licks her lips again. “It’s odd, but good.”
Another wave sneaks up on us, knocking us both backwards when it crashes down on our bodies. Sash panics for a split second, but I grab her arm and help her to her feet. She leaps onto me, wrapping both her legs around my waist and clutching my neck with her arms.
“This is amazing,” she says. “Your world is beautiful.”
“Many parts of it are,” I reply. “But this is my favorite place on Earth. It feels so good to share it with you.”
She leans her face forward and kisses me. Our tongues instantly dart inside one another’s mouths. Another small wave breaks on us, shooting a soothing spray over our bodies. Carrying Sash in my arms, I walk out of the water, past the wet part of the beach, and onto the warm, dry sand. As I gently lay her on her back, she pulls me on top of her.
I kiss her neck, shoulders, and chest. My lips find one of her breasts, her nipple already hard from the cold water. After gently sucking it into my mouth, my tongue swirls around her areola until she lets out a soft sigh.
While I kiss my way up to her ear, Sash slides a hand down my stomach and holds me in a tender embrace. I move my hand below her waist, into the crease between her thighs. With my fingertips, I caress her soft, moist folds, her wetness enveloping my skin when I slip one finger inside. Kissing my neck and ears, she lightly strokes me with her hand.
She spreads her legs wider, pulling my hand away from between her thighs. Our lips meet in a kiss and our tongues dance together as she guides me inside. In a slow, gentle rhythm, we make love on the pristine beach, the sound of the waves breaking behind us, and our bodies basking in the warmth of a sunset sky.
We stare into each other’s eyes while I slide in and out. Her stomach muscles ripple against my skin each time she raises her hips to meet mine. Holding her head in my hands, I softly kiss her lips.
“You’re amazing, Sash,” I whisper, looking down into amber eyes. “I feel incredible with you.”
“I love you, Chase.”
She gently rolls us over, my back feeling the warmth of the sand underneath me. With her hand
s on my shoulders and her knees on the ground, she writhes on top of me. Her eyes float into mine, reaching deep inside me.
She begins to tense, the grip from inside her tightening around me. I feel her spasms begin, but I hold back, not wanting this moment to end.
“With me,” she gasps.
Her hips grind on top of me. Thrusting deep inside Sash, I release inside her again and again. She throws her head back, looking up to the sky as orgasms surge through our bodies. I clench her hips with my hands, and her fingers dig into the skin of my shoulders. Lowering her face from the expanse of clear blue above, she smiles into my eyes.
I reach my hands up, brush strands of damp scarlet away from her face, and pull her head to mine. We share a kiss before she rolls to the sand by my side.
With her head lying on my chest, we watch the sun sink to the horizon. After it disappears behind a gentle rolling swell, the first stars pierce through the twilight sky. A crescent moon rises over the water, sending a shimmer of white across the calm waves.
“It’s so beautiful,” Sash says.
“I miss sunsets,” I reply. “And the moon and stars coming out at night.”
For hours, we lie on the sand under a clear night sky. I point out several constellations to Sash, as well as the occasional shooting star that streaks through our vision. We eventually sit up, a light ocean breeze blowing through our hair. The twinkling stars reflect in a tranquil night sea.
“Can we come back here?” I ask Sash.
“We can ask for the sign any time we want to,” she replies.
I smile at the thought. “In all those times you came here, did you ever bring your good thoughts to life?”
“Often,” she answers, gazing warmly into my eyes. “I’d imagine the trees were awake and still able to lift their roots from the ground, but they were peaceful. I’d go for walks with them across the Delta. Many times in the past, you were here with me.”
“Really?” I ask.
“It was the only way I could see you over the time that passed.”
I think of the six years that slowly ticked away between our sitting together on the Tall Hill and my return before Cavu’s Ritual of Purpose. So many times over those years, I longed to see her but had to settle for drawing her picture or listening to her voice in a faraway memory. I also remember the first time I met her on the Empty Hill, the unmistakable feeling of connection I felt with her as soon as we spoke. At that time, I assumed we were the same age and I’ve always thought that was true, but now I wonder if that’s really the case.
“Do you remember a long time ago when I explained how we keep time on Earth?” I ask.
“Of course,” she replies.
“Do you think you can you convert morrows to Earth time?”
She nods her head in response.
“Do you know how many morrows you’ve lived?” I ask.
“Eight thousand, five hundred and twenty-seven,” she answers.
“How do you know the exact number?”
“We all know how many morrows we’ve lived,” she says.
I have to remember that Sash, like everyone in Krymzyn, has the equivalent of a photographic memory.
“Can you divide that by three hundred and sixty-five and tell me what that number is with the remainder in morrows?”
“If you’re trying to find out my age based on your method of tracking time,” she replies, “I can tell you that we’re the exact same age. We were born at precisely the same moment.”
“Did you just calculate that?” I ask, not sure how she’d know exactly how old I am but not at all surprised by her statement.
“I saw it in the Reflecting Pool,” she answers. “Soon after the first time I met you on the Empty Hill, I asked the Pool why you were in my Vision of the Future. The pool showed me your birth and mine occurring at the same moment in time.”
“So you were twelve in my years when you had your Ritual of Purpose. How old are most?”
“In your years, seventeen to twenty-two.”
“And you were seventeen when your Apprenticeship ended. How old are others?”
“Twenty to twenty-five for most, although Nina and Tela were nineteen in your years, and Cavu only eighteen. I stayed in Home during my Apprenticeship because I was so small, but most are given a habitat before their Apprenticeship ends. I had just been given my own habitat before you were injured by the tree. I was happy I had my own habitat—although I didn’t know your word for the feeling at that time—because it allowed us to be alone together.”
“What if we hadn’t liked each other?” I ask.
“Then Ovin’s tree would have killed you the next time you came,” she answers with a straight face but then she tickles my ribs with her fingertips.
“No, I’m serious,” I chuckle.
“I don’t like to waste energy thinking about things that didn’t happen or might have been. As you once said, dwelling on those things could be worse than death.”
“I did say that.”
“We fell in love, and that’s all that matters to me,” she says.
“Me too,” I reply.
For another hour, we sit side by side on the beach with our arms around each other. After we finally say our good-byes to the ocean, we dress and travel to the Gateway. As we ride the Schorachnia across the Bridge of Harmony, the melodic symphony of the Eternal Canyon fills our souls. Taking turns sweeping through each other, we sail across the colorless Barrens.
When we reach the Delta, we drop our boots and canisters at the gate, return to our habitat, and drink a few cups of sap each. I begin to feel how tired I am from the long journey while we cleanse together in the fall. Even though we’re both exhausted, we make love again before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Chapter 30
Sash and I lie in bed facing each other. She lightly runs her fingers up and down my back. We know we should already be up for the morrow, but we’re lagging after the long trip to the Infinite Expanse. With the rite of passage behind me, I feel like I’ve finally established my place in Krymzyn. But another important part of my being needs to be fulfilled as well.
“I want to try making paints,” I say. “I need things for pigments to create different colors. Can I use, like, needles from the steel trees and leaves I find on the ground?”
“I don’t see a reason why not,” Sash replies. “Just don’t take anything living from a tree or plant.”
“No, I won’t. I actually need them to be dry and brittle so I can grind them into powder.”
“Take whatever you find. I have a small satchel you can carry with you to put things in. I use it for collecting markers when they’re needed.”
“Thank you. I just can’t find anything that would work for white. I don’t think thread or fluffing will ever dry out enough to make powder.”
Sash looks away in thought for a moment before replying. “I may know something that you could use. Let me give it some thought.”
“That would be great if you can find something. I also need to have some things made from steel. Can I talk to a Construct?”
“You should discuss it with a Construct on the Mount,” she suggests.
“Is it too much to ask for something special to be made for me?”
She slides her hand up my spine and rests it on the back of my head. “Not at all, Chase. Painting is important to your balance, and everyone here will understand that.”
“I hope so,” I say. “I eventually want to share my art with everyone here if they have an interest.”
“I think they’ll find it fascinating,” she replies, lightly squeezing my neck. “A Construct will feel great honor to be of service if it’s important to you, which I know it is.”
“Next time I go to the Mount, I’ll talk to someone.”
“There’s an Apprentice on the Mount, who grew with me in Home. He’s as skilled as any Construct I’ve ever known. You should speak with him when you’re there. If it’s made of steel, he ca
n create anything you describe.”
“Perfect,” I say. “What’s his name?”
“Wren,” she answers.
“Thanks, Sash. I’ll have someone introduce me to him.”
Later that morrow, I end up making a trip to the Mount with five other Travelers. Adhering to the new regulations put in place by Larn, we’re cautious crossing the Barrens. The two Travelers on point, one of them Larn, often soar off the road to check for signs of a trap. Two others have transports in tow while Tela and I bring up the rear. No one spots a single Murkovin during the journey, but the memory of the blood-soaked blockade stings my eyes as I cross over the blind hills.
After dropping the two transports off at Market, I stroll with the others back towards the gate. When I tell them that Sash suggested I speak with Wren, Tela offers to take me to him. The two of us cut off the path and into the clearing where the Constructs work while the others return to the wall to wait for us.
Tela leads me to the center of the clearing where a young man is working at a marble slab. His short curly black hair shines with highlights of almost neon cyan. Lean but athletic, he’s built very much like I am. His facial features are sharp and well defined, but they also have a bit of boyish charm to them. Tela told me that he’s a little older than she is, so if she’s nineteen, then I guess he’s twenty or twenty-one.
“Wren,” Tela says when we reach him. “I want you to meet Chase.”
“Greetings, Chase,” he says, bowing in the usual custom.
“Greetings, Wren,” I reply. “Your name is interesting to me. We have birds . . . feathered creatures in my world about the size of my fist that fly and are called wrens.”
“Like the Aerodyne,” he replies. “Although the Aerodyne are quite large.”
“I haven’t seen them yet.”
“They’re spectacular creatures. They fly high over the waterfalls on feathered wings.”
“I hope to go to the Great Falls soon,” I reply.
“The ride on an Aerodyne down the falls is an exceptional experience. I chose that Gateway for my journey to the Infinite Expanse just so I could fly.”
“I don’t blame you,” I say. “It sounds amazing.”