Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1) (52 page)

YELLOW-ORANGE EYES, DARK HEART

Jade ceased trying to push Burl off her. Fireballs and some other black bolts shattered the glass panes above her. High and low, glass exploded on the side of the office Crystalyn had strode through. One of the largest panes nearby crashed to the floor, shattering into sharp cubes. She crawled out from under Burl as soon as the fallout stilled. He rolled over, using the table to help pull himself to his feet. Jade did likewise. Her breath caught in her throat at the rectangular hole the double-headed hammer had left in his chest, the black, tarry substance oozing out in great quantities.

Crystalyn needed her.

So did Burl.

Expending precious time, she ripped off a strip of her dress to the thigh. Wrapping it around him, she tied it off in a knot at the back. The oozing slowed substantially. Booming and crashing sounded close by; she’d given him all the time she dared. Jade stepped over the massive hammer, the purplish flames now quiescent, leaving it where it lay.

Atoi was nowhere in sight, but Crystalyn stood close by. Glowing like a displaced entity from an astral dimension, her sister towered behind a symbol, facing a hunched Lord Charn, his leg mangled grotesquely. Jade raced to her sister’s side, gripping her hand. Crystalyn stiffened, and then smiled, tears flowing down her cheeks unchecked.

Jade was suddenly afraid. Crystalyn bled profusely from gashes on her arms and neck, soaking her to her breasts. Deep cuts reddened her cheeks to her chin, the wounds begging for immediate attention.

“So your sibling survives. It is but small consequence, for it provides another recipient for my spears,” Lord Charn said with a sneer, the effect lessened by his hoarse voice. He hefted the spear in his hand easily, and then lowered it slightly. “What is this? You brought the Dark Creation in here. I had thought my hammer destroyed you both,” he rasped. Then he laughed.

Jade looked behind, Burl marched inexorably toward her. Gripped in his good left hand, Lord Charn’s wicked hammer gleamed dully. “No, drop it, Burl!” Jade screamed.

Extending his left arm, Lord Charn made a closed-fist gesture at Burl.

Burl froze in mid-step. Jade was suddenly afraid for him, he looked so helpless. “Did you think to control a Creation made in the Citadel? I am a Lord of the Citadel, and now master of the Creation.” Lord Charn’s voice boomed louder and stronger. “Creation, bring the hammer to me!”

Burl shuddered as if struck with an axe. Resuming his march, he altered direction, moving toward the dark-armored arm extended toward him.

“Burl, no!” Jade screamed.

There was no sign Burl heard. High stepping past her, her loyal companion’s eyes never left his new master.

“Halt!” Lord Charn commanded. Maniacal laughter escaped from under the dark helm. “I have a better use for you, Dark Creation. Destroy them both with the hammer!” Lord Charn said, raising a lance.

Pivoting on one heel, Burl spun. Advancing toward her and Crystalyn, Burl lifted the hammer high, the double-head shining with an ominous, dark gleam.

The rush of energy through their clasped hands was all the warning Jade had. “Crystalyn, NO!”

The black and white pattern protecting them traced quickly to gold as it snaked outward to a triangular point then swirled into a twisting, golden cyclone of sharpened, gold fragments that spun into her companion. Countless blades sliced through Burl, his tattered form dropping to the floor. The hammer thumped dully against the plasicrete flooring to lay still.

“NO!” Letting go her sister’s hand, Jade ran to him, falling to her knees next to the largest recognizable lump. Burl’s yellow-orange eyes regarded her brightly for a moment and then faded.

*****

Releasing the golden cyclone symbol on Jade’s companion had the adverse effect of dissolving her protection symbol, which Lord Charn may have intended when he sent the Creation after them.

Crystalyn was ready; whichever way the lance flew, she would dive the other way, installing the magic barrier as she did. True to form, Lord Charn cocked his arm back, but his angle was wrong. The lance aimed at…
Jade!
Crystalyn prepared a shield symbol and sent it to hover in front of Jade. Too late, she realized she’d used the spell absorption.

Lord Charn stiffened as the lance left his hand, his barrier dimmed as he released a burst of black cones.

Time slowed. Crystalyn watched in horror as the lance, gleaming with a deadly brilliance, sailed toward Jade’s unsuspecting back. Time sped to normal. JADE! Crystalyn screamed in desperation.

Jade’s vision locked on her, an accusing look in her green eyes.

The lance sailed over Jade’s shoulder with a petrifying inch to spare. The cones exploded upon Crystalyn’s symbol bursting it apart with the last hit. Losing momentum, the lance dropped and clinked along the floor.

Lord Charn collapsed in a heap.

Exercising the same dispassionate demeanor as when Crystalyn had first encountered her, Atoi reached down and pulled her dagger from the hole in Lord Charn’s armored shin. Glancing around, she looked for something to wipe it clean. Finding nothing but plate armor and plasicrete containers, the white-faced girl strode off toward the Big Ugly.

Dazed, Crystalyn staggered past Jade, squeezing her shoulder gently, hoping to ease her sobbing, as she walked by. Her sister would need time to grieve. Jade had grown close to her…magically animated companion.

Kneeling beside Lord Charn, Crystalyn found him alive, though his breaths had grown shallow. Feeling for the release under the chin, Crystalyn slipped a hook from its catch and slipped the helm from his head.

Then she sat back stunned.

Her indenture service provider, Ruena Day, stared up at her.

“How can this be?” Crystalyn managed to say.

“I see your confusion, though you’ve always been a bright student…much like your mother. Perhaps I followed a false promise,” Ruena said, her voice weak, though it sounded as it always had, like her and not Lord Charn.

Crystalyn frowned. “What do you know about my mother?”

Ruena coughed. Pink, foamy blood oozed from one corner of her mouth. “Your father met me here, looking for you. Did you know that? I activated the obelisks, pushed him through, and then I traveled to my…Citadel later,” Ruena said, the corners of her mouth rising slightly. Another cough, deep in her chest this time, pushed dark red blood from her upturned mouth.

Crystalyn cradled the dark-haired woman’s head in her hands. “Where did you send him? Please, tell me!”

Convulsing up and away from Crystalyn, Ruena Day’s throaty voice rang strong and clear throughout the warehouse. “I am not dying!” she shouted, and then fell back in Crystalyn’s arms as her dark heart stilled.

RAGTAG GROUP

We make a ragtag group, but a rich one,
Crystalyn thought. Broth clinked and chinked like an olden-times prospector’s mule carrying the mother lode of diamonds, which she supposed he was in relation to the bags strapped to his long, sleek back. Better yet, the mother lode of jewels, nearly every kind of precious gem lay inside the bags. She was glad he was so resilient; he’d responded to her healing, though it had been another narrow heal. The hammer had crushed many of his internal organs, but he was still drawing ragged breaths when she’d gotten to him.

Jade carried the two sapphire obelisks they’d discovered in the warehouse slung over one shoulder along with the confounding surprise of Lord Charn’s great hammer; rather, Ruena Day’s brutal weapon of choice. The hammer hung from a silver ring on Jade’s waist. When she’d picked the hammer up from where Burl had dropped it, the purple flame vanished. In its place, a brilliant white shone from head to haft. Jade claimed the hammer was light, no heavier than a metal goblet. Crystalyn still found it hard to believe, since she struggled to lift the white hammer beyond her own waist. Jade’s bag bulged with exquisite, finely wrought jewelry.

Crystalyn looked at the youngest-oldest member of her little family. Atoi carried a bagful of artifacts strapped to each side of her tiny hips, which nearly reached the ground. The little girl claimed they would come in useful at some point. Crystalyn hadn’t argued about the booty, though she did require the little girl to bring the topaz gate. The artifacts Atoi had gathered would, by themselves, set them all up handsomely in a fair-size kingdom, yet the gateway was beyond their value considerably.

Crystalyn’s own pack weighed heavy on her back. She’d packed two other symbol books; perhaps she could discover along how Ruena had come by them, where they had originated. Crystal candles, amulets and rings, carefully stowed so as not to bang against one another stuffed the rest of her space inside. One never knew, perhaps the amulets and rings would enhance their abilities the way the candles and Jade’s arrow amulet did. She couldn’t wait to experiment with them.

Ahead, the early evening lights of the Muddy Wagon Inn grew into view. With any luck, Hastel would have made his way back to his tavern by now, and they could enlist his help. It would be nice to see the crusty one-eyed man again, she admitted to herself, along with those in the Vibrant Vale.

They would visit Brown Recluse after that, at Jade’s insistence. Crystalyn had agreed without too many reservations. The more friends they could gather, the better chance they had of finding their father. Jade’s druid and monk friends would help immensely there. And, word of their mother? Crystalyn still wasn’t certain what Ruena had meant when she mentioned her. It might not be too farfetched to believe that their mother had found her way here. After all, hadn’t the rest of her biological family traveled to another world?

Shifting the heavy pack straps back onto her shoulders from where they’d slipped; Crystalyn pushed open the back door to the Muddy Wagon Inn and strode inside.

THE SPEAR

Garn dived past the Alchemist, executing a forward roll that brought him to his feet behind the closest red robe. Pinning the man’s arms behind him with one hand, he pushed him forward as a shield, unsheathing his long sword as he went. Both the remaining red robes dropped any pretense of looking away. Forming fists of angry fire, they flung them at the Alchemist. Flinging the first red robe in front of the black-hooded man, Garn’s whirling blades cut down both men before they could release a second bolt.

The Alchemist calmly stepped around the burning corpse, barely slowing. Garn hurriedly wiped his blade on the less messy of the two red robes. Sprinting, he fell into his former position behind the man. His captor moved with a purpose, choosing the left fork of the great halls intersection. Garn kept pace with minimal effort, in tune with his new body. Technically, the same old body, but magically enhanced with potent chemical attributes courtesy of the Alchemist’s experiments. He was in better shape than he could’ve dreamed in his twenty-fifth season.

The hallway led past a large group of Users surrounding a dark stone basin of some sort. Thankfully, the Alchemist went past without stopping. Security in such a large crowd would’ve been difficult, if not impossible, particularly if every User present fired one of their fireballs or some other magical attack.

Once past the stone basin, the Alchemist stayed with the left passage at the next intersection. Though ornate, this hallway wasn’t as high or as wide as the great hall and less people strolled about. Garn relaxed slightly, glancing around. The few persons milling about wore colored robes of silk or some other supple material. Most wore black, red, or brown, though an occasional gold robe interspersed in the mix. Red, brown or gold, all bowed before any black robe in this quarter. Garn wondered what the difference was between this section and the Great Hall. Perhaps the number of black robes in the Hall meant one would spend his entire day prostrating and never get anywhere.

Ahead, two massive doors loomed so dark, they seemed to swallow light and exude darkness back into the eyes of the beholder. They stood closed and foreboding. Garn found them disconcerting to look at for long.

The Alchemist slowed almost imperceptibly. The two black robes positioned in front of the double doors scrambled to push them inward before he had to pause outright. The doors opened without a sound. Garn followed his master inside, not liking the looks of the room’s interior. Rectangular in shape and lined with silver statuettes, the room had intricate paintings hung on the walls like signs leading to a massive fire pit ringed by ornate chairs and sectional, curved stone tables. Every set of ringed tables had Users seated around them. Hung from the high ceiling, a half dozen ornate chandeliers provided light from countless glimmer shards. Two stone stairways, one to each side, climbed above the paintings and thick walls to become walkways running halfway along the room’s length. Several darkened archways led deeper within. The landings and archways presented security concerns, assassins could be hiding with crossbows, or Users could fling fireballs from the archways. At least in the room two days ago, he’d had a view of nearly all of it beyond the huge, rounded obsidian table, though he’d disliked not being able to see where the hulking one in the black armor had entered. Garn had almost been to the point of breaking the command to stand guard at the door, though the Alchemist would’ve most likely attacked him for it. But it had turned out to be a non-issue. The Alchemist had wisely vacated the room when the man with the horned helm had shown up.

The Alchemist made for the largest, and most occupied table in the room where several black robes sat, conversing in heated tones. All conversation grew quiet in the vast room as the Alchemist claimed the topmost, most ornate seat. Keeping his face stone smooth to cover his surprise, Garn settled into a standing position behind the Hooded Man, very much aware how exposed they both were. How could he keep them both alive if things got out of hand with this many people in the room?

Garn counted eleven black robes seated around the main table, hoods pulled deep over their heads. The Alchemist made twelve, though he didn’t wear a robe. His dark hood trimmed below the shoulders left his prominent gold-banded biceps bare for all to view, but it also singled his charge out, making him an unmistakable target. Garn wanted to grind his teeth in frustration, the one time he’d brought it up, the man had tersely informed him to do his job and never speak of it again. The Hooded Man was too arrogant for his own good, daring to conduct a meeting with hundreds of Users in the room.

Every hooded head faced the Hooded Man in silence.

A dozen heartbeats passed before the Alchemist spoke. “I ask your indulgence for this…unexpected hearing,” the Alchemist said. His soft silky voice somehow carried to the farthest table in the room. No one in the crowded space asked him to speak up. “I think you will all agree it has much merit once the details are known. Events have unfolded faster than my portents revealed, faster than the oracle could have seen, and faster than the scrolls or the tapestry foretold, yet the symbolic one and the anomaly have…” He paused, the hood looking to those around the table. “Where is the Spear?”

At first, no one in the vast room full of robes spoke. Then the black robe to the Alchemist’s right, stirred. “The Spear’s location is unknown. My...associates and my Creations are scouring the Citadel. One progress report I’ve received is…disconcerting. Heavy wards prevent access to the Spear’s quarters, still. Betrayal is looking more likely.”

“Surely the Warding isn’t so strong
you
cannot dispel it,” the Alchemist said.

“All of my strongest were called to this unexpected hearing,” the black robe said, her pleasant, feminine voice slightly on edge.

“Your highest concern should be the Spear’s wards. Yet, I detect discontent in your tone, possibly even a challenge. Have you decided to challenge this day?”

“I have not,” the black robe replied immediately.

“Perhaps there is some wisdom residing somewhere inside you, Kara Laurel,” the Alchemist said. I shall see if that holds true. This hearing is postponed until I have a report on the Spear within the hour.”

Several hundred black robes stood and filed from the room in an orderly fashion. Some were women, Garn noted from the quick flashes of smooth faces, or the way they moved. Most revealed a masculine gait as they filed out. In seconds, the room was clear except for the two of them. The Alchemist remained sitting, facing the long room as if he expected an answer to his most pressing concerns to come gusting in at any moment. Perhaps it would.

Gazing up at the darkened alcoves one by one, Garn pondered. He had no idea what the Hooded Man had just allowed him to overhear, but it sounded as if the promised cataclysmic events had been set in motion for this world. Like it or not, he was part of it, and so were his daughters. For now they were, until he found them and brought them safely home.