The Bridge Beyond Her World (The Boy and the Beast Book 2)

by Brandon Barr

  The farmers seemed very different than those who dwelt in the Royal City. Both shared the monogamous family structures, but in the city, she’d seen and heard enough to know that these were mostly a facade. Brothels and prostitutes and mistresses…infidelity abounded in both the men and the women. This was the odd byproduct of a culture beginning to break free from the old structures of marriage and family.

  In Aven, however, she had glimpsed the genuine thing—something that existed outside the cities, in the distant rural territory. And against her own superior knowledge, she found it fascinating…attractive even.

  She was on the verge of leaving for her mission. It was less than two months away. She understood herself well enough. The psychological stresses and pressures she was experiencing. Once Hark, she, and Zoecara stepped through the portal, there was no telling where they would arrive or what would happen?

  It was a gamble with her life that she’d chosen to live out. The Guardians had saved her world from destruction long ago, when a Beast’s army entered through her peoples’ portal. Ever since hearing the stories of the Guardians as a child, she’d felt drawn to the Missionaries. They were so few, and so crucial. And the thought of finding a world like Loam, whose people hadn’t even known the dangers they faced, she felt called to reach out to them.

  But now this alluring boy walking in front of her was messing with her head. She didn’t care. It felt right, what she was thinking. Maybe it was…

  It was strange, what a few words from Aven had done to her. She’d wanted a night of exciting sex and companionship. His body was strong and muscular from farm work, and he had such a sweet disposition. And his mouth, his eyes, the curve of his jaw—he had exceptionally handsome features, which would have made the sex all the more exhilarating.

  But after what he’d said, he stirred in her a deeper longing. A longing she had never felt strongly enough to truly consider its possibility.

  Faithfulness. Stability.

  She recalled her question: “What do you do when you want to be intimate with someone other than your mate?”

  “We train our mind not to want that,” he had said.

  “So you just shut off that desire?”

  She remembered the sincerity in his voice when he said, “We turn that intimacy toward our mate…”

  “…a mate for life,” as he called it.

  There was something powerful about that statement. The safety that could be found in permanence. Though sexual desire was like an animal, those within Aven’s farm culture were taught to tame it. To concentrate it on one person for life.

  On the cusp of her mission, she found it irresistibly sensible. Her culture called Aven’s way a form of bondage. But for the first time, the freedom her people esteemed so highly felt hollow.

  She’d had many thrilling nights in her life, but now she found herself thinking about a home, in the Loamian sense of the word. A place where a family lived together.

  Yes. Her head was not right. The nearness of her mission. The possibility of death. It was just like the psychological case studies that the Missionary training had covered. A heightened need for deep relationships just before the mission. To belong to someone. It was normal.

  Normal to have these odd desires for family, for a home to return to.

  A farm hovel sounded cozy.

  Maybe she would consider it, if she had more time.

  But then, Aven had been so understanding two nights ago in her bedroom. He might understand this turmoil inside her.

  A simple request came to mind. She hoped he would not say no.

  _____

  AVEN

  “Is my sister still in danger? Is that why you’re meeting with the Magnus Empyrean?”

  Karience gave Aven a reassuring look. “That is part of why we’re meeting. As far as any danger your sister is in, I believe she is safe while she is on Loam.”

  Core, as Karience called this world, was a place Winter would have adored. Aven had never seen such lush, dense forests in his life, if they could be called forests. Jungle, was the term the VOKK gave to it. Ferns and large flowery plants covered the ground outside the paths that led from building to building. After descending the mountain, they’d entered the city, which seemed intertwined with the jungle itself. Ancient trees with thick trunks rose alongside buildings of glass. Vines with pink and red flowers hung down from the trees and laced itself over much of the glass on each building.

  Karience stopped beneath the shadow of one such covered building, its top seeming to reach out of sight, into the sky above.

  The courtyard they stood in was full of movement. People hurried in and out of the massive building, and with only a few exceptions, they had sun-darkened skin and wore little clothing. Aven found his amount of clothes, and his lighter brown skin, standing out, along with Daeymara’s, while Karience’s dark skin seemed at home on Core.

  “Wait there,” said Karience, pointing at a fountain in the middle of what looked like a garden carved out of the jungle. “That fountain. I shall meet you there. Hegelion is a busy man, I doubt I will be long.”

  Karience joined the throngs entering the sky-tall building, and Aven found himself alone with Daeymara amidst the frantic flow of people rushing by.

  “I’ll lead the way,” said Aven.

  Daeymara nodded with a grin. “And I’ll gladly follow.”

  CHAPTER 32

  KARIENCE

  The moment she entered, Higelion rose from his seat at a large rectangular table. Eight others stood at his lead.

  “Ah, Karience! So glad you’re here, safe.” He turned to the others. “Please excuse us, I must have a word with my Empyrean from Loam.”

  Karience bowed her head, “Magnus Empyrean, it is good to see you.”

  As soon as they were alone, Higelion moved close and briefly took Karience’s hand in welcome. “Tell me, how are you? I heard all that happened. Remarkable…and terrifying.”

  “My fondness for Bridge will never be the same, but I am fine.”

  Higelion’s face was pocked with deep shadows where a childhood disease had left scars. Deep lines of concern cut through his marred features, and his eyes looked troubled.

  “How is the Oracle?”

  Karience frowned. “She is doing as well as one might expect. However, I know you’ve kept a beetle feed going on her, so I might ask you the same question. How is Winter?”

  Karience found the continued use of a beetle feed distasteful. Studying Winter as if she were a disease that needed a cure. The girl was as sincere and open, and Karience wanted nothing more than for the young woman to be left alone.

  Higelion shrugged. “The Oracle seems unstable. And why shouldn’t she be. She inadvertently killed a Sanctuss.”

  Karience heard how easily the word Sanctuss rolled off of Higelion’s tongue.

  “Why didn’t I know about the Consecrator’s order before Winter joined us?” said Karience.

  “Many Empyreans do not know of them. They are few, and they only exist to help the occasional Oracle that we come across.”

  “You say Winter is unstable, what do you mean by that?”

  “That is the word the Consecrators used. They are the ones observing her feed. They feel she is struggling with her trust in the gods. And this is good. They will be sending out a Sanctor and his apprentice to you in five days. At the very least, they will help put Winter at ease, and, if all goes as hoped, they will free her from the grip of the gods.”

  Karience had never come to a personal conclusion to whether the gods were cruel, or simply indifferent, but having her life spared because of the gift they had given Winter, she found herself quite grateful toward them at present. Something about Higelion’s certitude on the matter gave her pause. He clearly was not undecided on the issues regarding Oracles. Why the need to remove the gift? What did they fear?

  She would find other, less direct ways, to ask her questions.

  “I strongly urge you to move the Consecrator�
�s visit back. Give Winter time to work through this issue on her own. I don’t think pushing her into another interview with a Consecrator is good for her right now. Five days is far too soon.”

  “I’m afraid that is out of my control,” said Higelion. “Your Oracle’s case is under the direct review of one of the Sentinels.”

  Karience stared at Higelion. It couldn’t be. It made no sense. How could this girl from Loam be of such importance as to bypass the authority of the eighty Magnus Empyreans and then even the ten Arbiters?

  One of the three Sentinels was taking a personal interest in Winter?

  “Why?” she demanded, concern spilling over into her voice.

  Higelion closed his eyes. “What I am about to tell you is of such a confidential nature, that you must swear never to repeat it.”

  “I swear,” said Karience.

  Higelion’s heavy brows lifted and he sighed. “Loam is part of an ancient prophecy called The Contagion. It has to do with three worlds that make what is called, The Triangle. Loam’s sun is one of The Triangle’s equilateral points. Hearth and a third, unknown world’s suns are the other two. Each star forms the head of the spear within the Huntress constellation”

  “Since when do the Guardians concern themselves with prophecies?”

  “Since the beginning, Karience. All the way back to our origins. But that is another matter. We pay attention to prophecies because they tell us things that are true. The gods may have largely abandoned our galaxy, but they have not left it without their fingerprints. Oracles, prophecies, the portals, they are remnants of the gods’ design. If we ignore them, it is to our own peril, for the Beasts know of their importance, and, we fear, they may even know of The Triangle.”

  “So what is The Triangle?”

  “A portal, unlike any other. According to the Consecrators, this portal leads outside our galaxy, to one of the other seven.”

  Karience realized how hard her chest was pounding. She took a long breath. “That truly is amazing. How does it work?”

  “I haven’t been told. If it is known, it is being kept secret.”

  “I have been the Empyrean on Loam for twenty-eight years…is there anything else I should know about the world I am trying to charter?”

  Higelion frowned. “I’m sorry to leave you feeling betrayed. I was not given liberty to discuss these matters until they became relevant.” He looked at her apologetically. “Karience, believe me when I say, you know everything now. As much as I do, at least.”

  “I understand, Magnus,” said Karience, turning her mind toward other matters she’d been eager to discuss. “What of my concern about the Emissaries’ murders? Have you brought the matter before an Arbiter?”

  “Yes, and you likely wouldn’t care for their response.”

  “What was it?” said Karience flatly.

  Higelion shrugged. “They still believe the Beasts are incapable of infiltrating our order. And honestly, I have to agree.”

  Why?” demanded Karience. “The psych tests?”

  “In part,” said Higelion.

  She wanted to growl. Before becoming an Empyrean, she’d been a non-combatant psychologist sent on two Aftermath teams. After the Annihilation forces had finished their work, the Aftermath teams were given years on each world to study the methodology employed by the Beasts to train up their Shadowmen and build their bizarre societies. She’d read case studies from several dozen worlds, and a consistent pattern emerged between them, and the two worlds she’d studied planetside.

  The Beasts had two goals. First, consume or destroy other Beast worlds and slay the opposing master.

  Second, infiltrate the Guardian order.

  The Beasts knew that if they could get inside the Guardians, they could gain a level of power beyond anything they could manage alone.

  “It is only a matter of time until a Beast infiltrates us,” said Karience “That is, if it hasn’t occurred already. We are underestimating our enemies’ determination and…intelligence.”

  “There are many safeguards in place, Karience. Perhaps the years you spent studying those twisted Beast-controlled civilizations have skewed your perspective.” Higelion raised his hands, as if to ward off her anger. “Besides the psych tests, and the beetle feeds, and the carefully scrutinized worlds that we draw our members from, there is also the memory probing done during the VOKK implant. No matter how good one is at lies, there is no hiding the truth within your own mind. We know, intimately, every member’s history, down to the very bones of who they are and who they’ve been. Their repressed memories. Their darkest transgressions and deeply buried regrets. The human mind is our safeguard, Karience. A locked door without a keyhole.”

  A memory came to her from one of the Beast worlds she’d been to. An entire library dedicated to the study of the mind, complete with dissection tables, where both dead and living humans had been found strapped down and gagged when the Guardians forces arrived.

  It was through the mind of a man that the Beasts gained control. Turned men into their Shadows.

  The mind was the very thing they were eager to conquer. And there, in that library full of bodies and books, scrawled in dried blood on one of the walls was the phrase,

  “Close the minds of the children, send our seed to the stars. Bow your thoughts to the master, the Guardians know not who you are.”

  “If a Beast is not responsible for the murders, then who is? I told you about the strange poison I found.”

  Higelion sighed, “We’ve been over that. Loam is a primworld, still unexplored. Just because the local rulers you talked with are not aware of this species of plant, it doesn’t mean some haven’t discovered it, and learned of its deadly use. By the stars! Your entire world is abounding in woodlands, there’s no certainty this poison doesn’t exist on Loam. Let us consider the matter closed for now. Keep vigil, of course, but I believe the investigative reports from the Royals are entirely satisfactory. The heavens know you have enough disgruntled Royals within the quorums who despise the charter!”

  Karience felt dispirited by the Empyrean’s dismissal.

  “One last thing before you depart,” said Higelion. “I may have allowed Winter to begin training with the Missionaries, but if she is going to become a Missionary in full, she must be delivered and renounce her gift as an Oracle. Let her know this. It may help her make the right decision when the Sanctor and his apprentice arrive.”

  Karience felt exceeding irritation. The condition placed on Winter seemed demonstrably manipulative. And as to the Consecrators’ goal of ridding Winter of her gift, did she even have a choice? What would they do if she refused to bow to their demands? Karience did not like where her mind wandered after asking that question. The Consecrators, with their connections to the Sentinels…they seemed to be above protocol. Dicameron had even said that in their order, a man named Galthess was beyond even his security grade to investigate.

  Karience would do all that she could to help Winter. Her trust in the order she served was shaken. As was her blind allegiance.

  Her eyes were wide open now.

  “Thank you for hearing me out, Magnus. I will do what you have asked.”

  _____

  AVEN

  Daeymara sat on the edge of the fountain, legs crossed as she faced Aven. Her fingers were working on a single, tiny braid of hair on the right side of her face. “There’s no way to say this without being awkward,” said Daeymara. “Aven, I have an unusual request of you.”

  Aven looked at her, playfully. “That wasn’t too awkward.”

  When she didn’t respond immediately, he kicked his shoes from his feet and sat on the edge of the fountain. Slowly he dipped them into the cool water.

  Daeymara smirked and tilted her head so that her hair fell away from her eyes. “As a Missionary, I am not supposed to do that,” she said.

  Aven gave her a questioning frown. “Do what?”

  She tugged her shoes off and joined Aven, lowering her feet into the wate
r.

  “Mmmm,” hummed Daeymara, “that’s splendid.”

  “So are you breaking a rule right now?”

  “In a way, yes,” said Daeymara. “But I think it’s safe.”

  “Seems a silly rule—can you not get your feet wet as a Missionary?”

  Daeymara’s laughter ended in a sigh. “As a Missionary, we’ve spent two years studying an array of cultures. Some hold water as sacred, others believe it is a curse. What if this fountain had been a revered shrine containing the Pure Water of the Makers? Or what if it was considered cursed water, and to touch it meant you had become tainted and in need of purification—that’s possibly where they tie you down and kill you.

  “And then there’s another possibility. What if this fountain was the peoples’ drinking water, and you sticking your dusty feet in it is a great insult. You see?”

  Aven nodded but wondered how it was other cultures had become so weird and bizarre.

  “So, why did you stick your feet in this fountain?” asked Aven.

  “Because you did, and none of the passersby seemed to care. Besides, the well cultured Magnus Empyrean lives here, and Core is an upworld. I think it’s safe to say this is just a fountain in a park, and not a shrine or drinking hole.” Daeymara kicked lightly at the water, splashing some onto Aven.

  A mist was floating down from the fountain between he and Daeymara. Sunlight caught the tiny beads of water and made them shimmer as they swirled about the attractive girl before him. Her fingers still carefully worked the little thin braid of hair, and it reminded him of his sister twining laussifer roots. As Daeymara worked, her gaze had grown serious, and he wondered what was on her mind.

  “So what is this request you have for me?” said Aven.

  Daeymara looked down at his feet in the water, then her eyes flashed back to his. “I’m leaving on my mission soon. Can I give you something to hold for me until I return?”

  “Of course—I think—what is it?”

  A solemn aura bore heavy on her face, and a redness spread around her eyes, as if suddenly saddened by a thought. She looked away, over to the fountain that stirred with mist. “On my homeworld, we don’t really have traditions. Not like yours, or many of the other cultures I’ve studied. We don’t have mothers and fathers, or homes. We’re raised in free communities that in a way feel like a home, except people come and go all the time. Friends leave for new places, you leave for new places, and then you make new friends. And then it begins again. Everything is about fresh experiences, new things. The tasks and jobs in every community on our planet are identical, so no matter where we travel, we can fit in and do our part in any community. That’s the way my world ticks. I’ve gone back to my homeworld a few times since joining the enclave on Loam, but I don’t have a home community. And in the last community I lived, a lot changed in a year. Loam, has begun to feel more like home then where I was born.”