Krymzyn (The Journals of Krymzyn Book 1) (14 page)

“Hi, Mom,” I said when she answered the phone that night.

“Chase, how are you, baby?” she replied.

“I’m good, Mom. I want to let you know that I’m finishing up a big project at work this week and can take next week off. I may have to make a few design changes during the week, but I can use my laptop. I was thinking, since Ally’s going to be in town, I’ll just stay there for the week.”

“Oh, that’ll be great!” Mom said happily. “Your dad and I are both taking a few days off, so maybe we could all go to the beach one day.”

“I’d like that,” I replied. “Hey, Mom, can I ask you something kind of personal?”

“Of course,” she said.

“You know, a lot of my friends’ parents got divorced over the years, and you and Dad always managed to stay together. How’d you guys do it?”

“A lot of hard work, Chase,” my mom laughed.

“Seriously, Mom. How’d you know Dad was the one for you?”

After a brief pause, she spoke in a voice filled with warm affection. “I knew I belonged with him, and he knew he belonged with me very early in our relationship. We were just lucky that way. Not everyone feels that, Chase, but it’s important to recognize the difference between belonging
with
someone and belonging
to
someone. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” I said. “Like Jess wanted me to fit her vision for who I should be, not just let me be who I am.”

“Exactly,” Mom replied. “When I met your dad, I felt complete. I felt better with him than without him. It’s an overused term, but I felt a connection with him that I didn’t feel with anyone else. We just bring each other, I don’t know . . . I guess you’d call it balance.”

“Interesting word choice,” I said under my breath.

“It doesn’t mean it’s not a lot of hard work, because it is. You always have to try to make time for each other and not so much remember how you felt when it was all new and exciting, but make sure you still feel those things as you move forward in life. People change, Chase, and you have to evolve with your partner. You have to support their changes. That’s what your dad and I do, anyway.”

“You know what, Mom? You’re pretty smart sometimes.”

“Thanks for finally recognizing that,” she said sarcastically. “Did you meet somebody new?”

“Yeah, I did. Well, I’ve kind of known her for a while. But it’s a long-distance thing, so we’ll see what happens.”

“I can’t wait to hear about her.”

“Let me ask you one more thing,” I said. “Would you have moved halfway around the world to be with Dad?”

I listened to silence on the phone for a few seconds before I heard her voice again. “Yes, I would have. Is that question related to the long-distance thing?”

“I don’t know yet. I just wanted to ask what you would’ve done.”

“If you leave Los Angeles, we’ll miss you,” Mom said without hesitation. “But I’d be much more upset if you missed your chance for happiness with someone.”

“Thanks, Mom. That means a lot to me. I’ll be over Saturday night, and plan on me being there all week.”

“I’ll get your room ready, and your studio is still out back if there’s any work you need to do.”

“There’s actually a painting I’m working on. Kind of a fantasy thing, but I’m doing it on canvas, not digitally.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” she replied.

“Not until it’s done,” I said, for two reasons.

I didn’t like anyone to see a painting I was working on until it was finished, especially this one. But I also wanted a private escape if a severe headache came on during the week. Headaches didn’t always result in seizures, but seizures never started without a headache first. I didn’t want my family to know what was going on with me.

“Yeah, baby. I know how you are about those things,” Mom chuckled.

“Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, Chase. See you Saturday.”

I hung up the phone, picked up the electronic pen, and returned to painting at my digital tablet. The company I worked for, needless to say, understood my need for a medical leave of absence. Since I didn’t want to drive but wanted to finish the video game designs I was almost finished with, I decided to work my apartment for the remainder of the week.

As each day passed, at least half of my waking hours were spent painting the picture I’d mentioned to Mom. It was something deeply personal to me that I wanted to leave for my family if I ended up in Krymzyn. Or, if for a number of reasons, my life suddenly ended.

When Friday night came, a half-eaten pizza by my side, I finished the last video game composite. After uploading it to our company server, the dull headache I’d felt for several hours abruptly seared through the veins in my head. I frantically clicked “record” on the camera built into my laptop and slid my chair back, wanting to know what I looked like during a seizure.

*             *             *

Sash, a spear slung over her shoulder, stands halfway up the hill, looking in my direction when I arrive. The shirt she’s wearing has long sleeves and a crew neck—the same black material as all the clothing here but not the usual sleeveless style. A peek down at my own arms reveals that I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt as well.

“Good timing,” I say as I walk down the hill.

“I’ve stayed near the Empty Hill to be here when you arrive,” she replies flatly.

The melancholy haze that showed up as soon as the Reflecting Pool was mentioned still surrounds her face. Every moment since my last visit, the possible reason for that expression had been gnawing at me.

I stop in front of her. “Why were you so upset about the Reflecting Pool?” I ask.

Sash lowers her eyes to the ground and silently stares at the grass. No one is capable of lying in Krymzyn. Maybe the Murkovin, but not the others here. They simply don’t answer when they don’t want to lie to you or spit out an answer that isn’t really an answer, just a rearrangement of the words in your question.

I reach my hands out and rest them on her waist. “Sash, I love you no matter what. Are you sure you want me here?”

She looks up into my eyes. “More than anything,” she says, “but you may not understand the questions asked in the Pool or want the answers given.”

“Then why does Eval want me to go?” I ask.

“She protects all of Krymzyn, including me,” Sash says.

“Protects you from what?”

“Answers you may not understand.”

I’m more confused now than when the conversation started. “Sash, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. What are these questions?”

“They’re different for each person who stands in the Pool,” she replies.

I quickly realize that she’s not going to give me a more specific answer. “Then I guess we should get going and see what happens.”

Sash drops her spear to the ground, slips her arms around my waist, and pulls me close.

I whisper in her ear. “Nothing can change the way I feel about you.”

“Nor I,” she says in return, holding me in her arms.

“The necessity for physical contact in your greeting customs is quite strange,” I hear Tork’s voice say from behind me.

Sash and I release our grasp on one another, and I turn to Tork. He holds out a black length of rope with steel clasps on the ends and a brushed-metal flask hanging from the center.

“Is that for me?” I ask.

“I’ve brought you sustenance to take with you on your journey,” he answers.

After taking the rope from him, I fasten it around my waist. He unclips his own flask and hands it to me.

“You should consume the contents of this flask now for your travel,” Tork says.

“Thank you, Tork,” I reply. “I really appreciate this.”

I drink the sap, instantly feeling the surge of strength spread through my muscles. When I hand the flask back to him, he focuses on something over my shoulder, and I turn to follow his eyes.

Three bodies of light sail over the top of the next hill, cross the valley, and stop in front of us. Larn, Tela, and another female Traveler all nod to me. The woman I haven’t met before is about my height, a black-and-blue braid falling down her back, and trim but muscular with beautifully sharp features cast in a slender face. All three hold spears in their hands, black long-sleeved shirts covering their arms.

“Larn, Tela, and Miel will aid you in your journey,” Tork says.

Miel and I quickly bow to one another.

“What’s up with the long sleeves?” I ask the group around me.

“Protection, should Darkness occur while you’re on the Mount,” Tork answers.

“Protection from what?”

“Steel trees, if they become aware,” he says.

I decide not to pursue that line of questioning for now. I’ll wait until we’re on the Mount to learn what I need to about steel trees.

“I’ll transport you,” Larn says to me. “We’ll be traveling much faster than we did crossing the Delta.”

“I can’t wait to travel again,” I excitedly reply.

“You should know,” Larn says grimly, “we’re always at risk of Murkovin attacking us in the Barrens, especially if Darkness falls. They can reach great speeds, although rarely can they keep pace with Travelers.”

“Can they blend their light?” I ask.

“Some are able to do so due to the amount of sap they drink,” Larn replies. “But the decrease of available light during Darkness greatly slows our traveling speed.”

“What do we do if they attack?”

“We’ll try to outrun them, but we’ll fight if needed,” Larn says.

“You have sap in your blood now,” Tork adds with a grave expression on his face. “As Eval once told you, they sometimes try to drink our blood for the sap inside. Do whatever you must to defend yourself.”

I’m sure my face shows obvious concern at Tork’s warning. I involuntarily clench my muscles as I remember the phenomenal strength of the Murkovin I fought. Sash, probably seeing my reaction, rests a hand on my shoulder.

“We’ll be safe,” she says softly to me.

I turn to look at her and, once again, sense her presence surround me. As I’ve so often felt, I know I’m safe with her—in every way.

“Have a safe journey,” Tork says.

He bows to us before sprinting away towards Sanctuary.

“We should get going,” I say to Larn. “I never know how long I’ll be here.”

After Larn offers his back to me, I climb on, he loops his arms under my legs, and we all sprint to the east. Just as I experienced when Tela took me across the Delta, we suddenly burst into exhilarating, mind-blowing speed.

When we slow to a stop seconds later, the black marble wall of Krymzyn towers in front of us. Light from overhead reflects from two enormous steel doors hinged into an arch in the wall. One Watcher, green ever present in his hair, stands on top of the wall by the doors. I glance to the south to see another Watcher, also on top of the wall, walking towards the gate from about half a mile away.

The Watcher standing over the gate descends a ladder and waits for us beside a rack of leathery black shoes, more like ankle-high boots. After Larn drops me to the ground, we all walk to the gate. The Watcher intently studies my face so I nod to him in the manner of Krymzyn.

The Travelers and Sash each take a pair of shoes from the rack and slip them on their feet. Sash picks up a second pair and hands them to me.

“These were made for you,” Sash says.

First sitting on the red grass, I slide my feet into the shoes. They’re made of the same material as the clothes we wear, but the fabric is thicker and seems tougher. Once I tie the straps around my ankles and stand, the fit is snug, like low-cut, soft leather boots hugging my skin.

The Watcher, his brawny arms straining, lifts a steel peg from the ground at the base of one door. He slides a long metal beam from across the seam in the doors out of the way and swings a door open. An almost deafening sound of raging water bursts through the gate.

We step through the opening and onto the edge of a steel bridge. What appear to be the heads of enormous spikes secure the end of the bridge into the ground. The width of a two-lane road, the bridge spans the entire half-mile-wide river. We walk up a gentle slope to the arch in the center of the bridge before I stop near the edge.

I kneel by a six-inch-high lip that runs along the side, no other railings of any kind on the bridge. Looking down, I see the turbulent rapids forty feet below. Waves as tall as ten feet surge out of the river and crash back down to the silvery blue water. Farther downstream, a few huge slabs of black granite jut upward and out of the swells. Like fireworks blooming against a stormy sky, giant splashes explode off the rocks and glint scarlet light in the air. Sash drops to one knee by my side.

“I see why no one swims in this water,” I say.

“The rapids run through the entire river,” she replies. “We don’t need to swim. Only Serquatine swim in the river.”

I look underneath the bridge at an intricate array of horizontal and angled steel poles. They provide the only support to the bridge, no legs extending down into the water. I bounce up and down on the twelve-inch-thick steel, but there’s no movement at all in the structure.

As Sash and I stand, I glance down at the brushed steel under our feet. A diffused blur of our shapes reflects in the scratchy metal, no detail showing in our faces. I turn back to the black marble wall with its dull satin sheen. I suddenly understand why Sash seemed so shocked by the picture I drew of her, so confused by her own appearance.

I don’t think anyone in Krymzyn has any idea what they look like. There’s no standing water on the Delta to see a reflection in, no mirror, and no glass. The deep blue-gray quartz of the cavern walls reflects only ambiguous shapes of light. The crystal ceilings are too jagged for a recognizable image to appear. It somehow seems to fit their complete lack of ego, their sense of everything being one.

“Is something wrong?” Sash asks me as I stare at the wall.

“No, I’m just amazed by it all,” I reply.

The Travelers turn their backs to us and walk down the slope towards the end of the bridge. I lean forward, giving Sash a quick kiss on the lips. She smiles at me, just a hint of a smile, before kissing my lips again. Despite the smile on her face, her eyes are still filled with unexplained sadness.

Looking at the gate, I see the Watcher who opened the door for us slowly swing it shut. The clang of a bolt locking in place is muffled by the rapids. I raise my eyes to the top of the wall. Standing directly over the doors, staring at Sash, is the Watcher who walked to the gate from the south.

I recognize Balt from my encounter with the Murkovin, the same man I stared down during Cavu’s Ritual of Purpose. The same man who ignored my thanks and fired blistering hatred in my direction after the fight with the Murkovin.

Balt’s eyes shift from Sash to me. His expression changes after his eyes move. Neither of the looks, either at me or at Sash, is the kind you want to see aimed in your direction.

What was it I saw in his stare at Sash, a facial expression that clearly looks so different from any I’ve seen in Krymzyn? There’s definite hatred directed at me, but there’s something else as well.

“Chase!” Larn calls out loudly from the end of the bridge, startling me. “We need to go.”

“Sorry!” I yell to him. “I was just admiring the view.”

Sash and I walk down the bridge to where the Travelers stand. I glance over my shoulder at Balt again, but he saunters away from us to the south. When we reach the end of the bridge, I finally see more detail in the Barrens stretched out in front of us.

A black dirt road begins at the edge of the bridge and winds through the dreary wasteland. The path gradually rises to the colossal Mount in the distance, its black slopes washed in forest-green light. I lean down to touch the compressed dirt surface of the road finding that it’s firm and solid under my fingertips. When I return to upright, I scan the Barrens to the north of the Delta and see light glistening off steel.

“Is that another bridge?” I ask Sash.

“Above the fork in the river is the bridge leading to the western Barrens,” Sash replies.

“There’s no gate on the other side of Krymzyn?” I ask.

“There’s only one entrance to the Delta,” she says.

We all walk on the road into the Barrens. The light overhead fades from orange and scarlet to pale white and gray.

Grass on either side of the road thins until the ground is just loose dirt, almost like coarse black sand. Occasional sustaining trees sprout from the hilly tundra, but their bark is black and crumbly. A few have gangly branches growing outward with sparse, gray leaves. Many of the trees are branchless, their rotting limbs strewn on the ground around them.

Sash veers off the road and walks to a tree. All the limbs have been ripped off the trunk, so all that’s left is a giant, black stump rising out of the ground. Standing by the tree, she turns and motions for me to join her.

When I reach her side, she slips an arm around my waist and pulls me to the trunk. She presses a cheek against the bark, so I do the same, her face in front of mine.

“This tree was alive the last time I was in the Barrens,” Sash says solemnly. “Murkovin have killed that which sustains them.”

The look of agony that crosses her face is as great as any I’ve ever seen, as though her own arms and legs had been torn off. She closes her eyes, but I continue to stare at her. Her caring, respect, and anguish resonate through the bark. I’m reminded of lying next to her when I was seventeen, Sash resting a hand on mine, a show of compassion and nurturing to a frightened stranger. If I’ve ever had a question as to why I love her the way I do, it’s answered for me in this moment.

I gently take her hand in mine when we return to the road. The three Travelers stand with heads bowed. I don’t know if it’s a show of reverence for the recently destroyed sustaining tree or for Sash. After we step onto the road, Sash looks up to the sky.

“Is Darkness near?” Larn asks.

“No,” Sash replies, shaking her head. “We should have light for our journey.”

“How far is it to the Mount?” I ask.

“Seventy-seven miles,” Larn replies, the atmosphere translating the distance for me.

Tela and Miel scan the Barrens around us with keen, alert eyes. When Larn turns away from me and crouches, I jump on his back. I slip my arms under his shoulders and clamp them across his chest. With his spear in one hand, the other hand looped under my leg, he begins to jog towards the Mount.

We gradually build to a sprint and then I feel the whiplash. Sash, Tela, and Miel all race in front of us, rays of light trailing the vague shapes of their bodies. I’m in absolute awe of the speed we reach and have to squeeze my eyes shut from the sting of air slamming into them. I soon feel the air rushing through me as the sap I drank separates my particles.

I try to open my eyes into a narrow squint as we speed through the Barrens. The road steepens while the huge black Mount zooms towards us. After maybe a minute and a half at full speed, our motion slows, and a forest of evergreens comes into focus by the side of the road. The beams around the shapes of Sash, Tela, and Miel recede when all three slow to a sprint.

What I assume are steel trees spike at least two hundred feet into the air, but I was mistaken to think of them as evergreens. Although shaped like pines, dark blue needles shine against rich purple bark. Gigantic black marble boulders lie scattered across the forest. There’s no grass in the ebony dirt, but a thin blanket of blue needles covers the ground below the trees.

Larn comes to a stop, releasing his grasp on my legs, and my feet drop to the road. The others stand in front of us, all of them breathing heavily. In my mind, they should collapse from exhaustion, not casually stand like they just finished a slow jog. We covered seventy-seven miles in less than two minutes, which equates to almost twenty-five hundred miles per hour at top speed.

“That was incredible!” I say to Larn, shaking my head. “Unreal!”

“I’m pleased traveling speed didn’t bother you,” Larn replies, nodding with a stoic expression.

“I can’t tell you how
jealous
I am that you can do that,” I say.

I start to laugh, but the smile leaves my face. I wince when I close my eyes.