Krymzyn (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 1)

by BC Powell

  “Travelers transport items the Constructs make on the Mount to the Delta,” Sash says as I study the vehicles. “The tube is empty but will be filled with sap from the sustaining trees and returned to the Mount.”

  “So why didn’t you just have me ride in a wagon on the way up here?” I ask.

  “If Murkovin attack during our journey,” Larn answers, “they often target our transports, either for the items we create, such as spears and rope, or for sap when the tube is full. Since we can’t travel as fast with the transports behind us, we never use them to carry people.”

  “How much faster are you than others in Krymzyn?” I ask.

  Larn ponders for a moment before answering. “At the speed we traveled coming to the Mount, I can make ten round trips, while someone who isn’t a Traveler, excluding Sash, does so only once.”

  If we peaked at a twenty-five hundred miles per hour coming to the Mount, that means the average person in Krymzyn can run at a speed of two hundred and fifty miles per hour. I know I won’t win any cross-country races in Krymzyn if I have a purpose here.

  “So how fast will we travel on the way back?” I ask.

  “Our speed will be cut in half,” he says. “We’re not able to blend the light of steel, so the drag of the vehicles reduces our speed.”

  I nod, the whole traveling concept making much more sense to me after seeing what I saw in the Pool. Sash takes my helmet and gloves from me and, with hers, returns them to the rack by the gate. We all walk to where Miel and Tela stand waiting for us.

  “We’re ready to depart,” Larn calls to the Watcher standing above the arch.

  The green-haired man descends the ladder, unlatches the bolts, slides away the brace, and swings both doors open.

  Miel’s arms flex with creases of toned muscle when she lifts the handles of the large steel cart. Tela takes the arms extending from the long tube in her hands. With the transports rolling behind them, they both pass through the gate.

  I turn to Sash, rest my hands on her shoulders, and look into her eyes. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here,” I say, “but I’ll be back soon. I want to have my Ritual. I believe I have a purpose here, and part of that purpose is being with you.”

  Sash struggles to smile, her face again veiled by sadness. “I love you, Chase,” she says. “Don’t do anything on your plane that would risk your life there.”

  She kisses my lips before I can say anything, turns, and sprints away.

  Larn crouches for me to leap on his back. After I’m in place and secure, he begins to jog behind Tela and Miel. Once we all start down the steep road towards the Barrens, the human shapes ignite.

  A wake of light from Sash leading her way, Miel rockets down the road in front of us with her transport in tow. Tela trails behind the wagon, her aerodynamic tube lifting a few feet off the ground when she blends her light. Four minutes from the time we left the Mount should put us at the edge of the bridge.

  I vow to keep my eyes open on the journey since, according to Larn, we’ll be traveling at about half the speed we reached when we came to the Mount. The air is perfectly clear, clean, and absent of any dust or particles, so I decide that I’m not really risking abrasion to my eyeballs. I also know, as they told me, that the sap I’ve consumed should prevent any damage.

  A little over halfway through our travel, the rays I know are Sash slow until she’s beside us.

  “Darkness!” Sash shouts.

  The sound warps past my ears and dissolves into the air behind us. Sash races back to the front of Tela and Miel. Thirty seconds later, the light around the clouds begins to flicker. The billows animate, drops of rain slam against our faces, and Darkness descends. Our motion slows with a stutter as the light fades. When we rise over a hill, I see the metallic bridge a mile in the distance.

  As the rain pounds down, human shapes of blurred white appear from the Barrens in front of us—four streaking to the road from the north and four speeding directly into our path from the south.

  Chapter 28

  We’re within a hundred yards of the bridge when two black-veined beasts slam into the transport behind Miel. Metallic thuds resonate through the Barrens. The cart flips high in the air before crashing into the wet dirt beside the road.

  Miel spins from the impact, no weapon in hand. Another Murkovin flies into her, drives her off the road, and tackles her to the ground. Claws rake across her face while the two grapple in the mud.

  Sash flashes in behind the creature with every muscle in her body coiled. A wrath is unleashed when the tip of her spear splits open the Murkovin skull. We jolt to a stop after we pass them, and Larn drops my feet to the road.

  “Tela! Take Chase!” Larn screams.

  Sliding to a halt, Tela releases the handles of the tube and darts towards us. Larn pushes me in the direction of the bridge before he bursts towards Sash and Miel.

  Red eyes flaming through the tempest of rain, four Murkovin descend upon Sash. Miel struggles on the ground at Sash’s feet with blood smeared across her face. Clangs of steel shrill through the storm while Sash defends Miel from the onslaught.

  Sash impales a gruesome head on her spear, releasing a spray of blood-soaked beams. Another brute leaps past her towards Miel. Soaring into the fight, Larn smashes him to the ground. Miel staggers to her feet and wobbles towards the bridge. When she stumbles, a fifth Murkovin blasts out of the dark.

  I start towards Miel, but a hand grabs my shirt, jerking me in the other direction.

  “Run!” Tela screams. “We don’t have spears!”

  She points to the two Murkovin who crashed into the cart. With weapons clutched in their hands, they charge at us from fifty feet away. Tela yanks me into a sprint towards the bridge.

  I look over my shoulder at Miel as we run. A creature stabs his spear down at her. She tries to deflect the blow with her hands but the point rips open the side of her head. He throws himself on top of her. They wrestle on the ground with his face at the gash, her blood streaming to the dirt.

  In one fluid motion, Larn springs to Miel’s side, rams a spear through the head of the beast, and grabs her by the shirt. Bolting towards the river, he drags Miel by his side. The two Murkovin chasing Tela and me cut towards Larn and Miel.

  Hard metal pounds against my feet when Tela and I reach the bridge. She pulls me by the shirt as I desperately try to keep pace. Straining my head to the side, I spot Larn running towards us with Miel’s limp body still in one hand. Sash sprints at his heels, four corpses on the ground behind her, four Murkovin alive and in pursuit.

  Tela and I cross over the crest of the bridge and stop halfway down the other side. The gates in the wall swing open.

  “Get inside!” Tela yells at me. She turns away and races towards the arch.

  Balt explodes through the doors. On the ground behind him, a Watcher lies face down in a pool of blood. Balt’s eyes aren’t amber. Points of burning red scorch the air between us. I crouch in the middle of the bridge.

  Slowing as he nears me, taking aim with malevolent eyes, he suddenly thrusts his spear at my chest. I twist, dodge the tip, and hammer my elbow into his gut. His fist batters the side of my head, knocking me to my knees.

  “Balt!” I hear Tork’s voice scream.

  Balt ignores the voice, cocks his weapon, and jabs at me again. I hurl a fist against the steel pole, knocking the tip away from my face. Balt dashes towards the top of the bridge as Tork and three Watchers storm through the gate.

  I try to stand, feel dizzy from the blows to my head, and fall again to my knees. My eyes follow Balt through the scathing rain while he runs towards the arch. Sash and Larn are still locked in a vicious fight with four Murkovin. Miel lies motionless on the bridge behind them.

  Tela reaches the arch, leans down, and scoops Miel in her arms. She speeds back down the slope with the Traveler’s body held tightly against her chest. As Tork and the Watchers pass by me, I jump to my feet, fight the dizziness, and churn my legs towards the a
rch.

  “Sash!” I shout as Balt closes in on her.

  Sash spikes one Murkovin chest, but another creature stabs at her from the side. Larn swings his spear over the top of his head, knocking the Murkovin weapon away from Sash. A third beast gouges Larn’s shoulder. Larn turns, swings his spear with one hand, and crushes the creature’s nose.

  “Saaash!” I scream again.

  She spins to the sound of my voice as Balt lunges his spear at her stomach. With her feet at the edge of the bridge, Sash jerks her hips back and shoulders forward. The point arrows past her torso, scratchy metal sliding against her black shirt.

  Balt lurches to a stop in front of Sash. With both hands grasping the steel, he slams the shaft up into her chin. When her feet lift off the bridge, she tries to catch the narrow ridge with her toes.

  Larn twists, aiming a clenched fist at Balt. Balt ducks under the punch and flees towards the Barrens. The other Murkovin retreat just before Tork and the Watchers arrive.

  Teetering on the lip of the bridge, Sash’s arms flail wildly in the air. Larn, off-balance and falling to the metal surface, stretches a blood-stained arm to her. Their fingertips just graze before Sash plummets to the rapids below.

  We don’t need to swim. Only Serquatine swim in the river, screams inside my head.

  I suck in a huge breath as I sprint, angle to the side of the bridge, and leap into a dive.

  Chapter 29

  Pounding waves flip me, sucking me into the depths until I lose all sense of direction. Completely disoriented, I’m deep under the rapids. Spinning in the water, I search through the murky silver-blue until I spot streaks of red. I stroke with fury in my arms, kick with frenzy in my legs, straight towards Sash.

  Rushing water sweeps us down the river with Sash thirty feet in front of me. Her listless body is caught in a relentless current deep under the surface. I close the distance between us. Twenty feet. Ten feet. Five feet. I surge.

  A tornado of bubbles whirls around us. Long, slender fingers with webs up to the middle of the knuckles snatch Sash by the hair. Like entering an underwater vacuum, a stagnant pool inside the deluge of water, we float perfectly still.

  I’m shocked by the woman’s face in front of me, her snow-white skin crafted in timeless, stunning beauty. Bleach-blond hair floats around a smooth, thin face while bubbles of air rise from sparkling golden lips. Her emerald green eyes pierce through the dark, silvery blue. I reach out and grab Sash by the arm, but the woman wrenches her body away from me.

  As the woman studies my face, one of her hands keeps a firm grip on Sash’s hair and the other hand stays concealed behind her back. A noose of black rope cuts into the skin of her long, narrow neck. I look down her nude body to sleek legs, but in place of feet, fins grow straight down from her shins. Long and broad at the tips, they struggle to tread water against rope tightly binding her calves.

  Through the static pocket of water, the woman stares at me with anger, pain, and distrust. When she writhes, straining to move the arm behind her back, I arch my neck to see rope cinched around her wrist. The hand is stretched to the center of her shoulder blades and secured to the noose around her throat.

  I extend my hand out towards the knot, but she flinches away and glares at me. Limp in the creature’s hand, Sash floats with her eyes closed and no air bubbles leaving her nose or mouth. I focus again on the woman’s emerald eyes. Using my hands, I mime untying a rope from my neck.

  She slowly turns to the side, her eyes alertly focused on my hands while I reach to the noose. I quickly loosen the knot, fighting to keep the air inside my lungs. Carefully, I pull the rope from around her neck, untie her wrist, and free her hand. Pushing against her hips, I lower myself to her legs and release them from the rope.

  As I float back up in front of the woman’s face, her expression changes from suspicion to curiosity. After slowly lifting a hand to my cheek, she tilts her head to the side and, with one finger, touches the corner of my eye.

  She suddenly shoves Sash to me. I grab Sash by her shirt and pull her body close to mine. Both arms of the woman wrap around our waists. Without warning, she powerfully kicks her feet, torpedoing us up through the turbulent rapids.

  We’re launched through the river’s surface and into the air. I gasp for a breath before a wave slams us against a rock. With one hand, I cling to an edge, Sash still held tightly in my other arm. With all my might, I throw Sash up to the face of the slab, safely out of the rapids. The blond woman is nowhere to be seen.

  Clawing my way up the granite, I clutch Sash by the shirt and drag her to the top of the rock. Waves splash high off the edges of the black stone while rain continues to pour. As I lower my cheek to her face, I dig deep in my mind for memories of the CPR classes I took with my family. I don’t feel any breath against my skin from her nose or mouth. When I press my ear to her chest, I don’t hear a heartbeat.

  I pull her mouth open with my fingers but don’t see any blockage. Trying to remain methodical and calm, I pinch her nostrils, inhale deeply, and lower my lips over hers. My breath steadily pours into her lungs. I lift my face away, suck in more air, and exhale again into her mouth. Two breaths, I remember.

  Crossing my hands, I center my palms on her chest and sharply pump thirty times. When I listen for a heartbeat, her body is silent. I feed two more breaths inside her before thrusting my hands against her chest again and again.

  “Breathe, Sash!” I shout.

  There’s not a hint of breath or heartbeat when I finish the compressions, so I frantically repeat the steps one more time. Silver drops fall from the sky and splatter on the lifeless face in front of me. I listen to her chest, but the only sound is rage from the rapids around us. I need to shock her heart, use a defibrillator, but there’s nothing like that in Krymzyn.

  It can’t return you from death, but as long your brain is functioning, sap will revive you, I hear inside my head.

  Sap, pure energy, should shock her heart. Her brain is still alive and can live for thirty minutes with CPR. Blood circulates through the veins during compressions and will carry the sap into her heart. I know my flask is empty, so I rip hers from her belt, open it, but find that it’s dry inside.

  You have sap in your blood now, Tork had said. As Eval told you, they sometimes try to drink our blood for the sap inside.

  An unconscious person can’t swallow, and I doubt her digestive system is functioning anyway. I know that some drugs on Earth will absorb directly into the blood from under the tongue or around the gums. I reach to the edge of the rock and slide my fingers over it, but it’s smooth from countless waves crashing over its sides.

  I lean over Sash. First closing my eyes, I hold my wrist to my mouth, clamp my teeth as hard as I can, and tear a small chunk of skin away. I dab my fingertips into the crimson flow and reach them inside her mouth. Spreading my blood under her tongue and around her gums, I hope—pray—that her veins will absorb it.

  I pinch her nostrils and fill her lungs with air. My shoulders strain while I desperately pump with my hands.

  “You have to come back!” I scream.

  My count reaches thirty. No breath. No heartbeat. No sign of life.

  I soak my fingertips in blood again. While coating the inside of her mouth, I scratch into her veins so I’m certain my blood mixes with hers. I quickly give her two more breaths, tenderly grasp her head in my hands, and slide my lips from her mouth to her ear.

  “Sash,” I whisper, tears burning my eyes, “please live.”

  Beads of rain race down the ridges in my arms as I flex them against her body. I shout the count out loud, trying to deafen the despair sweltering inside my mind. The volume of my voice increases with each passing number until I shriek twenty-eight. Her body convulses under my hands, and water spouts from her mouth. When I hear gurgling in her throat, I roll her on her side. She finally gasps for air.

  Sash coughs several times, spitting out more water, and I fall to the rock beside her. Amber is revealed as her e
yelids open, and she gulps another breath.

  “Breathe slow and deep,” I say.

  She fights to suck in air, exhales, and then breathes again. I place my hand on her chest to feel the beat of her heart, steady and strong. I sit up and gently raise her, supporting her in my arms.

  “Can you breathe?” I ask.

  She nods and coughs again, but her breathing gradually returns to normal. I stand and look towards the bridge. Tork and the others crouch at the edge, watching us from two hundred yards away. I cup my hands around my mouth.

  “Get a pillow and rope!” I yell. “Use the pillow to guide the rope down the river to us!”

  Larn sprints across the bridge until beams disappear through the gate. I sit on the rock beside Sash, rain still falling from above, and slip my arm around her shoulder. She stares at the rock below our feet.

  My body starts to tremble when the image of her dead face flashes in front of my eyes. I gently rest my lips against her forehead.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” I whisper.

  She leans back, her eyes red and filled with tears, gazing straight into my eyes. “Not now,” she says. “Not ever.”

  “How are you feeling?” I ask.

  “I’m better,” she replies quietly. “You saved my life.”

  “I think I might have owed you at least one.”

  She shakes her head. “You never owe me anything.”

  “I owe you everything,” I say. “No matter what, Sash, you’ve given me a life I never knew I could have.”

  Her eyes reach deep into mine. “How did you bring me back?”

  “I did something called CPR. I blew air into your lungs and pumped your heart to make the blood circulate. I had to put my blood in your mouth to get sap into your veins.”

  “Now I know what I saw,” she says to herself. “My Vision of the Future came to pass.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “When we sat on the Tall Hill, I told you that you were in my Vision of the Future. My Vision was my body on this rock, dead, with you leaning over me.”