Masters of Fate Read online

  “I’m joking!” Kaiden rolled his eyes. “You in, Toran?”

  The other man looked between us and the sphere. “I suppose that is the only way to find out.”

  “That’s the spirit!” I drew my sword. “We should probably be ready in case this teleports us into some crazy alien fighting ring.”

  “I wasn’t hoping for a dimensional access point, but I’ll take that over an alien death pit,” Maris said.

  Kaiden chuckled, readying his staff. “Elle, you have entirely too active an imagination.”

  Something told me reality was about to get a whole lot weirder than whatever I could dream up. “Everyone ready?”

  My friends nodded.

  Weapons in hand, we reached out to touch the crystal.

  7

  My sword radiated heat in my left palm as I made contact with the crystal orb. Reality distorted around me, appearing to unfold—or maybe I was unfolding.

  For a moment, everything around me became blindingly bright, overwhelming my vision with white light. Then, there was only blackness.

  I tensed. Had we initiated a reset after all? I searched around me, desperate to find a clue about what had happened. Nothing seemed to be there. My friends were nowhere in sight. Panic welled in my mind, but I had no physical form to respond to the emotion.

  Reality unfolded around me yet again, almost like I was turning to the opposite side of a window and the blackness I’d floated in was the side edge. Forms slowly resolved, and I found myself standing next to my friends.

  “What just—” I cut off when I noticed our surroundings.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d thought I had walked into a house of mirrors. Every surface was a semi-reflective window, as though I was inside a crystal prism looking at a cross section of moments in time. Catching the angle of the reflective windows just right, infinite variations of the events from that moment branched like fractals inside it. Past moments were clear, but branches toward the future were foggy.

  The sight was beautiful, but the sheer magnitude of possibilities was enough to make me lightheaded. “How did we get here?”

  “Through the crystal,” Toran stated. “Well, not through it. We transitioned to a higher dimension. This is fascinating.”

  No wonder my head ached.

  “If the devices are the same, why didn’t this happen when we did the resets before?” Maris questioned.

  “It might be a matter of intention,” Toran replied. “We wanted there to be a reset before, took efforts to think of a specific moment in time when we wanted to reset to. In this instance, we wanted to gain awareness of the higher planes.”

  I stared around me in wonder. “The crystals really can read our thoughts.”

  “It’s all energy,” Toran said. “The network—and the viewing devices, specifically—are attuned to picking up on the subtleties in those energy patterns. The biomechanics of it are really quite remarkable.”

  Kaiden spun around, taking in our surroundings. “It doesn’t seem possible.”

  I studied the images. “What are these?”

  “Windows across time and space.” Excitement filled Toran’s eyes. “I can’t believe I resisted touching the sphere—to miss out on coming here. This confirms everything.”

  Kaiden looked as frazzled as I felt. “What are you talking about?”

  “Follow any one thread, and it could lead to any past time or place,” Toran murmured. “Each dimension telling its own story, with paths intersecting across time.”

  I stared at the images around me. They seemed to only be of the chamber where we had been standing moments before. “That doesn’t seem right, Toran.”

  “Just because we can’t see it yet, it doesn’t mean it’s not there,” he said cryptically.

  “Did that creature mess with his head?” I whispered to Kaiden.

  “Maybe. None of this is making sense.”

  I cleared my throat. “Are we… inside the crystal?”

  “Not inside, no,” Toran replied. “That was only a means to help us see what was already around us. The crystal is still here, see?” He pointed to a semi-transparent sphere. “We’re just now aware of the levels that exist above that spacetime reality. Right now, we’re outside—or, rather, above—the flow of time as we know it. Six-, seventh-, eight-dimension, maybe? It’s difficult to say.”

  “All right, so the crystal was a hyperdimensional portal,” Kaiden said. “Yay us?”

  “Not a portal,” Toran corrected. “A trans-dimensional interface—”

  “A TDI, we know,” I said. “But ‘portal’ is so much easier to grasp conceptually, Toran.”

  “But it’s not accurate.”

  I sighed. “Anyway, I was right. You didn’t think it was,” I ribbed Kaiden.

  “Can you blame me?” he replied. “It sounded nuts.”

  “More than us having magic?”

  Kaiden groaned. “That can’t be your retort for everything unexpected.”

  “Hey, we don’t have our packs,” Maris realized.

  I reached for the straps on my shoulders and found them suspiciously absent. “That’s weird Why did our clothes and weapons come but not the packs?”

  Kaiden shook his head. “I don’t—”

  “Quiet.” Toran held up his hand, listening. “I’m not sure we’re alone.”

  “Don’t tell me this is where those creatures live,” Kaiden said in a lower voice.

  Toran listened for several more seconds and then shook his head. “Not to be pessimistic, but I suspect we’re in a higher dimensional plane than those beings reside. What we may encounter here could be worse.”

  “Thanks, Toran. I feel way better.” I tightened the grip on my sword.

  “Wait, a higher dimension than them? How?” Kaiden questioned.

  Toran ignored the question. “We shouldn’t stay in one place.”

  “No, we’re not going anywhere until we know what’s going on here,” I insisted.

  “I told you,” Toran began, “we’re now, at a minimum, in the sixth- or seventh-dimension—”

  “No, Toran, not just labels for things. That is completely meaningless to me right now as I stare through hyperdimensional windows into infinity! How does anything function in this place? How do we get back?”

  Kaiden placed a gentle hand around my upper arm. “I’m freaking out, too, but literally freaking out isn’t a good idea right now.”

  “I don’t know, this does seem pretty freak-out-worthy,” Maris said, though her tone was surprisingly level.

  It seemed impossible that I was the one losing my composure. Maris was supposed to be the high-strung person on our team, not me. Was I overreacting?

  I took a deep breath. It was a breath, right? There was still air in the higher dimensions? My head swam as I started to think about the bizarre mechanics of the world around me. Was I actually under the influence of gravity, or was this entire place a construct formed by my team’s combined preconceptions about what reality was supposed to be? Would it all vanish if we were to suddenly stop believing in it?

  My heart was racing. The clothes on my back were suddenly too heavy for me to bear. I panted for breath.

  “Elle.” Kaiden tightened his grip on my arm—firm, but still loving. “Elle, look at me.” He stepped into my sightline, bending his knees to look me square in the eyes, leaning close to block out the dizzying views all around me.

  His familiar face and touch took the edge off my anxiety, allowing it to recede enough for me to catch my breath.

  “Hey, that’s more like it,” he said when my breathing normalized, offering a reassuring smile. “You’re okay.”

  I swallowed, my cheeks flushing from embarrassment. “Sorry, I can’t believe I lost it.”

  Maris waved her hand like it was nothing, flashing me a sweet, concerned smile.

  “I don’t think this was a random panic attack,” Toran said pensively. “This
is out of character for you.”

  “Heh,” I grunted. “I thought it was.” So much for being the calm warrior wise beyond my years.

  Toran shook his head. “No, that creature we encountered—I believe that your… reaction may have been a result of its telepathic influence.”

  I did a double-take. “What?!”

  “I sensed it in my mind, trying to introduce doubts,” he explained. “But this wasn’t the first time you encountered one of them, right?”

  I thought back over the past week, recalling when my attitude had started to change. “True, I saw that one on the alien ship before we detonated the disruptor. Could that one have done something to me?”

  “Perhaps. And, you said you’ve been feeling ‘off’?” Toran asked.

  I nodded.

  “Maybe the creature we just encountered picked up on that kernel left behind by the other and exploited it, to mess with your emotional regulation. How are you now?”

  “I dunno.” My panic was receding and my thoughts were becoming more lucid. “Definitely getting better.”

  Toran evaluated me. “Well, it’s possible that the dimensional transition may have broken its mental influence—we don’t know what kind of changes our bodies may have undertaken during the transition, but it’s clearly significant.”

  “Then why did I freak out after we got here?” I asked.

  “Perhaps it was the sudden purging of the mental influence, bringing all of the subconscious thoughts they’d implanted to the surface at once.”

  “They had subconsciously re-programmed me?” I shivered. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

  Toran shook his head. “That might be an overly dramatic characterization. It seems like they did little more than introduce some self-doubts—likely with the intention of making you easier to control. It seemed to want to subdue and study us.”

  “It also said ‘kill’,” I reminded him.

  “Yes, but it could have easily killed us. I believe it wanted something from us first.”

  I swallowed. “I think that’s actually worse.”

  He smiled warmly. “You’ve always been calm under pressure, Elle. This wasn’t like you. I’d wager a small fortune those creatures had something to do with it.”

  The notion that I had been under psychological assault shook me even more than if I’d had a blade to my throat. What would have happened if I’d broken down in the middle of battle when my friends needed me the most?

  “I might still be dangerous—” I started.

  “Elle, all of us are probably just as mind-warped as you,” Kaiden cut in.

  “Very true,” Toran agreed. “But, like I said, this dimensional transition likely disrupted any telepathic influence we may have been under.”

  “Regardless, you can’t call yourself out as being the weak link here, Elle,” Kaiden continued. “None of us are. The Dark Sentinels are a quartet, and we take care of our own.”

  It was funny to think of such fierce loyalty after only a few weeks together, but the experiences we had shared were more intense than what some people would endure in an entire lifetime. Even if I didn’t fully trust myself at the moment, I did trust in the integrity of my companions. As long as we stuck together, we’d find a way to make it through each challenge as it came.

  I took a few more slow, deep breaths. The nausea and dizziness were passing. “Thanks, guys. I hope it doesn’t come up again, but I know I’m in good hands if it does.”

  “We’ll watch each other. We’re not in this alone,” Maris said.

  I managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

  Toran froze again, listening. “I maintain that there’s something else here,” he said softly.

  Temporary insanity or not, I remembered my original objection. “If we leave this place, how will we be able to find our way back?”

  Our team’s resident scientist remained unnervingly silent.

  “Toran…?” Kaiden prompted.

  “I don’t rightly know how to get back from here, I’m afraid,” he admitted.

  “Should we maybe test that before we wander out into the unknown expanse of a higher dimensional plane?” I asked, unable to keep a sarcastic bite out of my tone or wording.

  “Back to your old self, I see,” Kaiden murmured just loud enough for me to hear, giving me a playful nudge with his shoulder.

  I did feel a million times better, and I’d be on guard to make sure I didn’t crack like that again. Crazy emotional breakdowns didn’t work well with my image.

  Image… Another wave of disorientation swept over me when I took the wrong moment to look into one of the windows. I squeeze my eyes shut and took a breath, allowing the feeling to pass. I could do this. I was in control.

  When I opened my eyes again, Toran was standing at the sphere.

  “Do we touch it like we did last time?” Maris asked.

  “I’m not sure if the sphere functions the same way here,” Toran mused. “The sphere is here, but also everywhere.”

  “What do you mean?” I shook my head. “Why wouldn’t it behave the same way?”

  “What I should have said is that the sphere in our spacetime reality led here to the hyperdimensional plane—or ‘frame’, to be more accurate,” Toran replied. “The different planes aren’t sandwiched, but rather nested. So, accessing that same crossover point from here, though, doesn’t mean we’d return to spacetime where and when we left—it’s not a one-to-one portal. We could find ourselves in an even higher dimension, or a lower one somewhere between home and here. Or… well, anything is possible.”

  “So, we are trapped,” I concluded.

  Toran didn’t counter the statement.

  “And you didn’t think about that possibility before we came here?!” Maris squeaked.

  “I was quite against the idea of activating the sphere without further study. You all overruled me.” Toran sighed.

  “Those possibilities aside, this access point is still our closest connection to getting back home,” Kaiden jumped in.

  I shrugged. “I guess if we got here once, we should be able to get back.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” he replied. “Well, hoping.”

  “Perhaps only one of us should try, in the event it doesn’t work in the intended way,” Toran suggested.

  “What happened to sticking together?” I asked.

  “Given the potential for all of us to get more trapped, or just one of us, it seems like having people on the outside to help might be a good thing,” he said.

  “Does that mean you’re volunteering as gateway-tester?” Kaiden questioned.

  Toran nodded. “I, frankly, have a better theoretical understanding of where we are, so I’m the most likely to fare well on my own if we get separated.”

  It was the truth, and I had no productive counterargument to offer; knowing Toran, his mind was already made up. “If you’re going to do this, then you should probably get it over with,” I told him. “If something new is stalking us, like you said…”

  “Right.” Toran glanced at the sphere then gave us each a heartfelt smile. “Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” He reached out to touch the crystal.

  Nothing happened.

  “Toran?” I asked when he didn’t react.

  “I don’t understand,” he murmured at last.

  “Yeah, have to say, I expected it to do something,” Kaiden commented.

  “It should have.” Toran frowned. “Direct contact took us here, so reversing the procedure should have solicited a reaction of some sort.”

  “No finger tinglies, even?” I asked.

  He cast me a look of admonishment. “Never a term I’d use, Elle.”

  “Hey, you just confirmed we’re stuck on a hyperdimensional plane. Trying to bring a little levity to the critical situation here,” I shot back.

  “There has to be something else we can try,” Maris said.

  “I
don’t know what,” Toran admitted.

  “Well, at least we’re together?” Kaiden’s tone was still light, but I could see the worry in his eyes—on the verge of panicking just like me.

  “I don’t want to be trapped in a higher dimension forever,” Maris whimpered.

  We couldn’t afford to feed into each other’s worry and lose our heads. I’d given into that once already, and it hadn’t helped anything.

  While the three of us dealt with the news in our own ways, Toran seemed strangely calm about the entire situation. “I trust that we’ll find a path,” he said, breaking the silence. “We made it here because this is where we needed to come, and we’ll find our way back when our task is complete.”

  The words caught me by surprise; this new philosophical Toran was a little too much about going with the flow rather than action. “Yeah, sorry if that doesn’t exactly set me at ease.”

  “Fate might be intervening.” The end of Kaiden’s staff glowed brightly as he spun away from me.

  A moment later, I caught sight of his target. The creature—if I could rightly call it that—floated among the windows twenty meters away, though distance didn’t seem to work the same way in that place. More like a blob than a living being, the semi-transparent form sparkled with a rainbow of light, bands of color rippling over its surface in complex patterns. Surrounding the central, transparent mass was a fine mist, giving the impression of a droplet of water evaporating in the sun—except, the drop of water was at least two meters in diameter and it could move on its own accord.

  “Is that a jellyfish?” Maris whispered.

  “We’re not underwater,” Kaiden replied. “I think it’s more of a blob.”

  “Fine, a cosmic jellyfish,” she amended.

  “I was going more the ‘cloud’ route, myself,” I said, not sure if the creature was friend or foe.

  “Cosmic jellycloud,” Kaiden offered.

  Toran held up his hand. “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a floating cloud-creature thing,” I explained. “You don’t see it?”

  Toran shook his head.

  “Weird. Why—” I cut off. “It’s spotted us.”

  The nimbus, as I elected to dub it instead, glided toward us, its light pattern twirling and reversing every half-second. I wondered if the lights might indicate a sort of language or attempt at communication.