Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) (38 page)

She found the worm almost immediately, in her large friend’s frontal lobe. She should’ve expected that, since the cerebrum controls motor functions and reasoning, among others. The darkness invading Lore Rayna’s mind doubled in size, resembling a millipede. Thousands of writhing tendrils supported a lengthy oval shape that elongated as it moved. The millipede marched along the cerebellum pathway, changing gray matter black by attaching a tendril to a nerve ending in the cortex. Soon it would reach the back region, which controlled respiration, heart rate, and spinal functions.

Crystalyn couldn’t allow that. Halting the foul things growth then may destroy the big woman with it, once it tapped Lore Rayna’s spine.

Elongating the symbol to match the oval body, Crystalyn enfolded the worm within her healing pattern.

The dark body flattened. Tendrils snaked from under it, attacking the symbol with an inhuman frenzy. The white pattern in her symbol steamed, costing the worm a tendril as it blackened her white, touch-by-touch, and tendril-by-tendril. Her white pattern reduced to dwindling fragments in seconds.

Crystalyn would’ve been worried she’d conjured the wrong symbol, except the gold pattern was holding strong. Noticeably diminished, the tendrils worked on destroying the few ragged dots remaining of her white pattern. The tendrils froze as the last of the white vanished, a large tendril swinging toward her.

Crystalyn stretched the gold symbol around her awareness the second before the first tendrils broke apart on it: the worm was coming after the source of the symbol, after
her
.

The attack went on for many seconds, or milliseconds, it was hard to tell though it seemed like hours. Tendrils bombarded her golden cage. Unable or unwilling to quit, the worm destroyed a large part of itself flinging its feelers against her cage−even pulling back and attacking with the tendrils it had attached to Lore Rayna’s nerve endings. Drifting to the bottom of the neural path the last tendril faded away, the worm reverted to the size it had been earlier, her gold pattern tightening around it.

Now she was in a quandary. There wasn’t anything left of the white pattern to disinfect the worm, though she had it netted with the gold. She couldn’t trap it much longer; her body needed her awareness to function, to keep circulation flowing. Nor could she leave the worm in its present state. It would soon regenerate, continuing with its evil inside her friend’s mind. What could she do?

There was one thing she could try: taking the foul thing out with her. Lore Rayna’s nasal cavities made a plausible exit nearby. Gathering her will, Crystalyn dropped through Lore Rayna’s mucus walls, pushing the worm before her. Gaining momentum, she released her attachment to the symbol when she judged they’d broken free.

Her awareness restored, Crystalyn’s mind reeled as all her bodily functions requested attention at once. Dizziness assailed her as her mind tried to sort out her motor and neural functions faster than she was capable of assimilating. Not fighting the sensation, she let her brain handle the job until the dizziness cleared. A burst of energy rippled through her.

Kara Laurel kneeled beside her. The woman’s usual iron haughtiness was nowhere to be seen, concern mixed with awe shone in her eyes. “Are you well?”

She was so weak it was hard to speak. “Don’t let it get away,” she managed to say.

Kara Laurel’s quick smile was reassuring. “Durandas has it magically sealed in a white crystal. It is fascinating; no one has actually seen a mind worm before. We have a team of healers seeing to your friend. The preliminary word is, there is some possible scarring, but she should recover. How far remains to be seen.”

“No!” Crystalyn shouted, her voice coming out barely above a whisper. “You must destroy it!”

“I do not understand much of what you’re trying to say, but you must stop fighting sleep,” Kara Laurel said. “You have drained yourself dangerously. I have replenished what I can, but you must rest to recover.”

“But the worm is still active!”

“Durandas will take care of it,” Kara Laurel said.

Sure, he will. He’s taken care of all of us so far,
Crystalyn thought just before unconsciousness claimed her.

THE PEEK

Somehow managing to look foppish in his plain, monkish robes, the little man droned on about ceremony etiquette then inventory consumption for the entire past week. Jade swallowed her irritation and kept silent. The Order of the Great Mother’s ruling council of monks had insisted they come to the meeting to ask their questions. But so far, no one at the long table facing them had acknowledged the two of them beyond a speculative glance. Camoe appeared unconcerned, slouched over on the bench beside her, but she heard his sharp intake of breath when the little man seemed to have finished, then began anew.

Caven’s blue eyes regarded them a short while later. Holding up a hand, he silenced the little man mid-sentence as he opened his mouth to begin another monologue. “The Council of the Great Mother’s Brethren will partake of a short recess at present.”

Surprised, the yellow-toothed monk snapped his jaw closed, a glower of disapproval flickering across his bushy brows. Executing a stiff bow, he spun on a heel and left the room. Jade almost applauded.

Caven locked eyes with Camoe and then glanced to the antechamber beyond the main entrance.

“Come,” Camoe said, springing to his feet. “We shall go while given the chance.”

Jade stayed on his heels, getting away from the stuffy room sounded wonderful to her. Camoe halted at the far end of the long foyer, waiting for the Brown Recluse’s Prominence to catch up. They did not have to wait long.

Caven strode through the council chamber doorway, making his way to them in a surprisingly short amount of time for a man his size. Several monks milled about, but no one ventured near. Jade was happy to keep it that way. So far, the monks had been a tiresome lot, asking the same old questions about the Dark Citadel’s layout, where she found Burl and why he followed her. No one seemed to want to answer any of her questions. Caven looked carefully around to ensure no one had wandered too close. “Accept my apologies for the wait. Brother Kern means well, but he can go on about simple mundane tasks while wording his ferreting reports so that only I may know what is happening beyond the monastery walls besides these infernal ceremonies. The man has a flair for tediousness to repel anyone accidentally catching on.”

Camoe’s eyes widened but then his face slackened, as if he battled a bad case of boredom to anyone watching. “Kern is your intelligence gatherer?” Camoe pursed his mouth to whistle, and then caught himself. His face smoothed to studied indifference.

Jade understood Camoe’s amazement. A small man, Kern hadn’t seemed capable of anything beyond taking exhaustive inventories or recounting each step of every ceremony performed in recent memory. “I don’t understand,” Jade said, “why do you worry about what is happening outside your monastery?”

Both men looked at her. “Brown Recluse is not the haven it has been in the past.” Caven took a quick glance around, then his blue eyes returned to her, his portly face serious. “The monastery still seems safe enough, tucked away up here on Brown Recluse Mountain, but the town of Brown Recluse has tripled in population over the last decade. In the beginning, the town housed mostly pious, hard-working farmers and tradesmen. Sadly, most have abandoned their homes or rebuilt along the outskirts, which holds its own dangers.

Jade hadn’t realized the town had such harsh problems. Everything had seemed so orderly when they had passed through, except for the animosity towards Burl. Perhaps there was a reason for it. “Why? What could be so bad that they would leave their homes behind?”

Caven’s face grew solemn. “There is a Dark Lord setting up a base of power somewhere close. As of yet, we do not know where, only that it must be near. Many of the outlying provinces young men and women are missing during the night, the same here. The town and most of the surrounding countryside have grown a healthy hatred for all Users, with no regard to what power the User wields. They may have solid justification. I have witnessed much vileness in the name of the Light for the pursuit of power in my lifetime. Corruption wears many guises. Some magic should remain untouched.”

Jade was aghast. The Light was supposed to help them, the light was good, dad had always taught her and her sister so.

Caven turned to Camoe. “So far there is no word of anyone matching her sister’s description, and you could probably answer most every question the Order asked. Perhaps I should get one of the brethren to guide Jade around the monastery and recount its history. What do you say?”

Camoe looked at her, his blue-gray eyes unreadable. “Would you want to listen to a tiresome monk, or tour the monastery guided by an equally tiresome monk droning history at you?”

“Hey,” Caven said, “I resent that.”

Jade smiled briefly. “I would like to see some of the culture here.”

“Excellent,” Caven said. “Allow me to set someone to the task.” Striding off, he vanished beyond the entrance to the foyer.

“He shall not be long,” Camoe said. Jade turned to find his earnest blue eyes fixed on her. “Promise me you shall be watchful of your surroundings. Caven will have a trusted acolyte accompany you, but even here it is not as safe as it once was.”

“I will,” Jade said, quickly. She wasn’t too concerned. So far, the whole place had been the embodiment of delay. Besides, listening to Kern’s prattling the rest of the afternoon would make her want to throw the man at a patch of swamp sunflowers.

“I am not too troubled, you have the ability to recognize danger, perhaps even gather a sense of some intent. The essence of a druidic soul lies within you. Alas, I will have to endure Caven’s Kern for a while yet. Pray it is not too long or I may have to fall on my sword.”

Camoe looked so morose Jade curbed her smile. “Don’t even think about it. I need you around when I get back.”

Camoe smiled then, but it was brief.

True to his prediction, Caven returned a moment later, bringing a younger, red-haired monk with him. “This is Dirk,” Caven said. The monk gave a short bow. Jade attempted a slight curtsy in return. “He’s been at the monastery for the largest portion of his young life. This last season he accepted the appointment as personal assistant, after my old one grew ill and went to meet the Great Mother. You’ll like him, though he has a tendency to talk too much about history, which makes him a good guide for your purposes. Is this acceptable?”

The monk, Dirk, watched her, his boyish face—barely older than hers—was stony, but his lean frame seemed tense. “Yes, so long as he answers my questions as best he can.”

Dirk smiled, his rigid stance relaxing a little. “Then it is decided. Is my lady ready?”

A bell tinkled. Caven nodded farewell and headed back the way they’d come, albeit reluctantly.

Camoe grimaced. “It sounds like they’re ready in the Council chamber,” he said. “Have a care, Dirk. Treat her well; she is a lady in every sense of the word. Treat her well,” he repeated. “Or deal with me.”

“I will show her the same respect as I would my sister,” Dirk said.

Camoe glanced at him sharply his eyes gray, and then strode after Caven. “See that you do,” hung in the air long after he caught up to his brother.

Abruptly, Jade was alone with the young monk. The tenseness she’d sensed in his manner had vanished with his easy smile. The smile suited his narrow, clean-shaven face and confident stance. Bowing slightly, he made a wide, sweeping motion with his arm, indicating their departure path, the same open door he’d entered with his Prominence. “Shall we begin, my lady?”

Passing through the main hall, Dirk held the main entrance door wide. Jade strode out into the golden brightness of the morning sun. The monastery square was abuzz with activity. Several monks strolled nearby, deep in conversation. Many hurried past on some errand known only to them. At the front of a temple, scaled down and built to resemble the great cathedral they’d dined inside of the first night, some half-dozen monks knelt on mats, their heads bowed. Through the paned windows and open double doors, a miniature-winged statue of the woman resided, carved with the same breathtaking detail as the original. Bright, potted flowers lined stone shelves on three sides.

A shadow shorter than hers came to a standstill in front of her. “Exquisite, is it not?” Dirk’s soft baritone voice asked from beside her.

“Who is the winged woman inside?”

“Do you not recognize the revered Mother Mary? Come, I will take you to the most beautiful representation of the Mother to be found anywhere on our great world.”

“If you mean the one in the cathedral, don’t bother. I’ve already been there.”

“Then how can you not know the revered Mother? I’m afraid I do not understand.”

“Let’s just say we are from two different backgrounds and leave it at that. I’d like to see the monastery from the
outside
. I’ve been inside too long.”

Dirk hesitated, a quick smile flashing across his lips. “As you wish, my lady; we shall tour the monastery’s battlements, though I fear beyond this square, there is only one other sight worthy of your captivating, lovely eyes.”

Jade flushed at the compliment. Not certain how to respond, she chose to ignore it, after all, they’d just met. “Sounds good enough to me, lead the way.”

“No please, walk beside me. Our path lies at the end of the square behind the temple.”

Dirk set an unhurried pace around the shrine, folding his hands in front of his brown, monkish robes. The robes weren’t bulky on his lean frame as they were on every other monk she’d seen.

Behind the shrine, the wall ended on two sides, leaving a wide space open to the rest of the mountaintop’s leveled grounds. They went through, moving toward some of the tall structures with the statues paired at the entrances. Jade thought of something to fill the silence. “Tell me about the statues in front of the buildings. Do they have a history?”

Dirk’s ebony eyes regarded her sharply. Then he smiled. “At first, I believed my lady jested, but your interest appears genuine. There are indeed chronicles relating to them as with all the structures. He pointed to a large, rectangular stone and wood building off to their left. A gigantic pair of winged statues gazed upon the cobblestone walk with expressions of unnerving ferocity. “The sleeping quarters are designated by the gargoyle. The masons of old believed the creatures would frighten away nightmares, being as fearsome as the frights themselves. Birds bring food to their young. He gestured toward a squat, but high-peaked structure on their right. “Those statues over there are meant to designate a place to acquire sustenance in the refectory sculleries. The dragon marks the armory, farther along the walk, is where combat training and the making of fine chain mail are taught.”

“You all wear chain mail under the robes?”

“By the great kingdom of Light, we do not! Only the elder monks do, aiding in battle when the Light or the revered Mother are threatened.”

“What about the monk statues at the tallest cathedral? Are they Dark Lords?”

“Dark Lords? Nay lady, they were but simple prominences known for their wise leadership, though the necessities of war forced them both into becoming master strategists and commanders in the wars against the Dark Users.”

“Wouldn’t that make them battle lords? After all, they directed battles.”

Dirk’s narrow eyes rounded. “By the Great Light—may He shine for eternity—no! They were but pious monks flung into the War of Countless Sorrows when our fledgling monastery came under fire from the horde of Dark Users. It was their downfall. Over ten seasons they assaulted our fortress. Finally, the rest of the White Lands regrouped and forced the dark ones to retreat. It was the monks’ worst and greatest seasons in history.”

Jade almost smiled at his enthusiasm. Dirk was proving to be affable and knowledgeable, not to mention handsome in a plain, monkish way, an odd combination. Much different from the usual string of suitors she’d had back home. To be fair, he wasn’t a suitor—at least, not yet—nor were there any monks on her world. The sect leaders probably had the closest bearing to them.

The hours flew by as her escort guided her through three large buildings with high cathedral ceilings, stained tile, and picturesque scenes, each as exquisite as the one before it. In the late afternoon, they stopped at the kitchens for a quick bite. Dirk led her to a small, two-person table placed off to one side. Dropping the tray of goods on the table, he plopped into a chair and grabbed a goblet of water. After taking a long, noisy gulp, he set his drink on the table and smiled. “Forgive me, my lady. I’ve regaled the day away. Has my supreme knowledge of all things pious and historical kept you captivated beyond hope of redemption?

Jade laughed, longer than his comment merited, but it felt good to laugh again. It seemed so long ago. She bit into a pastry. The sweet tartness of strawberries tingled on her tongue, awakening a fierce yearning for the carefree days on the Farm with Crystalyn. Would she ever see her again? She finished the pastry and drank half her water before answering Dirk question, though he probably never expected one. His flirting was transparent. “You’ve certainly mentioned a lot of the monastery’s rich history. Tell me a little about the world beyond this place. I know you came here at a young age, do you remember much of it before coming here?”

Dirk’s mouth tightened. He picked up a pastry, and then set it down untouched. “There’s not a lot to mention. Brother Alexander found me begging at the Brown Recluse markets below our esteemed monastery when I was seven or eight—no one knows the exact season that I drew first breath. He convinced me to climb up the mountain and plea for the rite of passage and become an acolyte. The rest you know. His most excellent Prominence Caven likely spoke of it.”