Under Everest

by D. H. Dunn

“I was full of uses, as you say,” he replied. His tone was difficult to read, if he was proud of what he had done for Upala his voice did not show it. “Until the day she needed me to go through a portal.”

  “You have been through a portal?” Wanda asked, her mind focusing. She could not reach her notepad, she would need to pay close attention. If this man had knowledge of how to use the portals, she may not need Upala after all.

  “I have been through a portal, yes. So have you,” Kaditula said with a laugh. “I suspect the crystals and stones were just a test, to see if I could be trusted. Merin was not pleased, but Upala had found a new portal and needed someone to go through to see where it led.”

  “I thought she went through them herself,” Drew said from behind. Wanda wished there was more opportunity for private conversation, but the cramped passages of the Under allowed no such luxury.

  “Oh, she did go through them,” Kaditula said, again laughing. “Once they were proven safe. Until then, it was my task, as it had been for the scouts before me. Once I was full of uses, but then my uses dwindled to one, and portals became all I knew.”

  “How many portals have you been through then?” Wanda asked. She had expected Merin to be her best source of data on the strange magical gateways. That her odd husband might be of use as well was surprising, but fortuitous.

  “I have been through . . . many. Outs of fire and of sand. Outs where I could scarcely breathe so great was the number of creatures there, and Outs where I seemed to be the only man alive. I no longer have the wits to count them all.”

  He stopped for a moment, placing his hand on the wall of the cave. The moss squeezed through his fingers as he pressed upon it. She could see his fingers compressing into the growth, his hand forming a fist.

  “No longer have the wits,” he repeated. “Too many portals, too many Outs, too many accidents. It has left me . . . altered. Different. At times I do not know my own mind. I worry my own children may not know me, may not understand me. Should they see me again.”

  “Kaditula, I . . .” Wanda started, then stopped. Like his wife, the scout had left her struggling with what to say.

  As if he could sense her turmoil, he turned to her. Bringing one hand, palm out, to his forehead, he smiled. “Merin still loves me. From that, I take hope.”

  Wanda guessed they walked through passages and caverns for about an hour before Kaditula paused again. They had just navigated a vertical shaft, the drop was only a few feet, but the crooked nature of the opening required Wanda to assume more than a few awkward poses. She was glad for the rest.

  Behind her, Drew and Nima each sat on small boulders, Nima having pulled a small stick of jerky from her pack. Ham patrolled the perimeter of the small opening, peering down holes and into the dark corners of the small space. The man would stop for a moment, then repeat his patrol again, rarely making eye contact with any of them.

  Wanda stood behind Kaditula, her legs and feet fatigued enough that if she sat she might not have the energy to get up again. The small man was looking down what she assumed was their next path, a crooked but flat opening through the rock that ran about twenty yards. About halfway down the distance, a portal was embedded in the wall, spewing enough mist and warm water vapor that Wanda could feel a sheen developing on her skin.

  Kaditula took a few steps closer, raising his arms over his eyes. Wanda stayed at the opening, watching the small man as he studied their obstacle.

  “This portal was closed the last several times I was here.” Kaditula said, sweat streaming off his forehead. Ahead of him, halfway through the passageway, the portal continued to emit hot steam into the air relentlessly. Kaditula had retreated to a safe enough distance where the temperature was nearly hot, but closer to the portal the water vapor was scalding.

  “How close is the Others’ camp?” Nima asked.

  “Just on the other side,” Kaditula said. “I had thought this was dormant. It is possible that a wait would be the right choice. Some portals close in minutes.”

  “. . . and others?” Drew asked.

  “Hours is common, days less so,” Kaditula answered.

  “I don’t advise waiting,” Ham said, coming in from the back passageway. “I think we are being followed.”

  “Worms?” Nima asked, nervously.

  “Not likely,” Ham said. “Worms aren’t very subtle, and whatever this is, it didn’t want me to see it. More likely one of the Others.”

  “Where do these worm holes go, Kaditula?” Drew asked.

  “I am honored you would ask, because I do know,” Kaditula said, pushing his way past Wanda and back to Drew. “If I see something, I explore it. Someone needs to know.”

  The man studied the center-most hole for a moment, with Nima looking over his shoulder. He ran his hand along the side of it, and then reached down to grab a small stone from the cave floor. Tossing it into the hole, Kaditula paused and listened to the echo. He then nodded, apparently satisfied.

  “Yes, these will lead us past the portal. From there, it will take us to their camp. I did not want to use them because they are a bit . . . compressed. At points.”

  “You have a gift for understatement,” Wanda said, drawing a grin from Kaditula. The holes looked barely tall enough to accommodate them. Moving through them would be a slow process.

  She felt a new wave a fatigue run through her. The thought of inching along the long holes, the smooth stone compressing against her . . . Looking back at Nima and Drew, she saw similar expressions of distaste on their faces. The trip from the camp had been one long squeeze and crawl through the Under, now they were so close and yet still had more to endure.

  Only Ham appeared unfazed. Nima was already scrambling into the hole with Drew’s help, almost in defiance of the frown Wanda could see on her face. The girl’s determination was to be admired, on par with her own.

  Nima had inched herself halfway into the hole when Kaditula let out a happy cry from back in the passageway.

  “The portal has shut! We have luck after all!” With a clap of his hands, he ran into the mists of the passage. Wanda put her hand out to Nima as she and Drew helped the girl out of the hole, all three of them scrambling back to the passage.

  The mist was still impenetrable, the colored veins on the wall vanishing about ten paces in front of them, lost in the fog of the recently closed portal. There was no sign of Kaditula.

  “Kaditula!” Wanda yelled ahead, taking a few steps into the dense mist. She had grown to appreciate the small man, his devotion to both his craft and his family were admirable. She did wish he were a bit less impulsive though, a quality he seemed to share with Nima. “Kaditula!” she repeated, taking another step forward.

  There was silence, then a voice. Not Kaditula’s, but a voice she recognized and never expected to hear again. As one, their jaws dropped in surprise at the sound of a man they all knew to be dead.

  “I think you three value this one,” Jang said, revealing himself through the fog, a knife pressed against Kaditula’s throat. Jang was not tall, but Kaditula was still shorter, his strong arms reaching up to grip Jang’s lone hand. Kaditula held on but made no move. A thin trickle of blood ran from where Jang’s knife had already pricked him.

  Jang gave them all a smile. His face was deeply discolored by frostbite; his left ear seemed particularly well damaged. His clothing was torn, and cuts and bruises covered his face and arms. He looked twenty kilos lighter than when Wanda had last seen him.

  The eyes were the same, though, as was the smile. Wounded and emaciated he might be, yet Jang carried the same intensity, the same promise that he was capable of anything.

  Jang kept the knife against Kaditula’s throat, with Drew blocking Wanda, holding her back from getting any closer.

  “How?” Wanda asked, voicing what she was sure they were all thinking. Her single word seemed small as it echoed through the passage. Even as she struggled to understand how the Nepali could still be alive, she searched the narrow passage
for options, looking for a way around.

  “I should be dead,” Jang said, staring at her. “Certainly, that was your intention, woman, was it not? Bury us in the same snow I intended to bury you in. I’m not surprised Adley and the girl did not have the willingness to be so cold.”

  “I’d be willing now!” Nima said.

  “I don’t doubt that you would, girl. In truth, I am only alive thanks to Shamsher.” Jang’s eyes softened for a moment, even as he held his left-hand firm. “He sacrificed himself; threw me clear as he saw the avalanche coming. I was fortunate to have a Sherpa such as he. As deep with mountain instincts as he was with loyalty. When I see our dynasty restored to power, I will be sure to take better care of his people. Of your people, Sherpa girl.” Jang bared his teeth as he looked up at Drew. “You, Adley, you and your woman put your hands where I can see them.”

  “I am not his woman . . .” Wanda began, but still complied with the man’s command. She noticed Jang had not made any mention of Ham. She couldn’t afford to look over her shoulder, in case Jang had not seen the Korean. Had Ham run off before this confrontation? Or was he circling around behind Jang using the worm tunnel Kaditula had found?

  In case it was the latter, Wanda needed to buy Ham time. Jang was focused almost singularly on Drew, that was something they could use. With Drew’s slightly taller form in front of her, she could risk a whisper to the American.

  “Keep baiting him,” she said as quiet as she could, hoping Drew could hear. She added a single name. “Ham.”

  Drew coughed once, which Wanda took as comprehension. Kaditula’s wide-eyed gaze bounced between the three of them, his facial muscles trembling. The same man who faced down Vihrut the night before seemed terrified now.

  “Even if you survived the avalanche,” Drew said. “How could you even be here? How did you survive the climb?”

  Drew was asking good questions, allowing Jang to boast. Wanda was glad the American knew the man well enough to know how to manipulate him. She kept her eyes focused on the shadows beyond Jang, hoping for a sign.

  “You were kind enough to leave tents and a roped path behind. I needed only to follow you and stay out of sight.”

  Wanda cursed to herself in irritation, partially because they had left the man a path and partially because Jang’s pride was getting under her skin.

  “Then you are stuck, just as we are! We should be working together,” Drew said.

  “Drew is right,” Nima added. “Here in the Under we need to―”

  “Quiet while men are speaking,” Jang interrupted. “Do you know what I did at the Jang Palace in Kathmandu, Adley?”

  “I do, in fact,” Drew said. “You were a clerk.”

  Jang scowled. “Yes. I forgot you knew that. Yes, I was a clerk. The highest-ranking clerk in the Palace, delivering papers and messages to the most important of the royalty. I got to that position by knowing who to follow, who to listen to, and how to keep quiet.”

  “Very impressive,” Wanda said. Though frustrating, she had to respect Jang’s focus. Even as his breathing increased with the excitement of bragging, his hands stayed firm on Kaditula’s throat.

  “It was not just that I noticed things. Anyone can notice something. It is what I did with the information and when I revealed I knew it. When someone learns something, they usually cannot wait to let it babble out of their mouths so they can show everyone how smart they are.”

  Over Jang’s shoulder, the shadows in the corridor shifted slightly. Wanda peered into the darkness, her efforts rewarded with the sight of Ham creeping up behind Jang. The Korean’s hands were bare, leaving Wanda to hope the man’s military training would be enough to subdue Jang unarmed.

  Drew was still talking to Jang, the Nepali listening intently. Kaditula continued to be still, making no sound or attempt to release himself. Ham was now only a few steps away, his hands out and ready to strike.

  Jang’s eyes shifted, looking directly into Wanda’s. His facial expression unchanging, he suddenly swung his right arm behind him, releasing a second knife he had been holding in his other hand. In the narrow corridor at such close range, Ham was left with no time to react. The man dropped to his knees, the blade embedded deep in the center of his chest.

  “Ham!” Drew yelled, rushing forward before a threatening move by Jang sent him back. From behind Jang they could see Ham’s body slump to the ground, a dark pool forming underneath him.

  “I saw your friend moments before he vanished. I knew there was a passage that would allow him to circle around behind me. Did I say anything about knowing this? No―you keep information until you can use it. The Polish woman’s eyes told me all I needed to know about him coming up behind me. Now, your only threat to me is dead.

  “Survival is a choice, Adley. You must choose―what are you willing to do to survive. Your woman would kill where you would not. That is why she will outlive you. That is why I will outlive you.”

  Jang was right. If she had the means, Wanda would kill him where he stood. She thought of Ham’s wife and child, waiting back at the camp for a husband who would never return. Because of a look in her eyes, due to her failure to stay composed, Ham was now dead.

  “Now we will visit the camp of these Others,” Jang said, nodding over his shoulder. “In this cave―or whatever this place is―they seem to have the power. People in power always want things, and I am confident they will want you.”

  13

  “My mind is in a state of constant rebellion. I believe it will always be so.”

  —George Mallory

  This never should have worked.

  The thought repeated itself over and over in Jang’s head, threatening to degrade his confidence. Some great fortune was on his side, whether divine or otherwise. His incredible run of luck since the avalanche had proven it, yet his fear refused to allow him to believe in it.

  Jang embraced the fear, the fear never lied to him like confidence did. Here, in this strange place, only his fear made sense. He would not allow luck and ego to set him up for a fall. The fall was always coming, the key was to be ready.

  Thus, he walked sideways down the path to the Others’ camp, one hand keeping his knife on the odd man’s neck while the other kept a safe touch on the stone wall. The wall was solid, secure. He took comfort from its damp surface, even if it was covered in strange colored lines and plant life. It still felt like stone he knew, and that was something.

  He walked forward slowly, only stealing glances ahead to make sure they were going in the right direction. Primarily, Jang kept his eyes on the three behind him, each of them threats.

  Back in Nepal he had wrongly sized Adley up as his chief opponent, but the big American was weak, too worried about hurting others, too concerned. Much like his homeland, great power but weak convictions. Adley would only make a move if it was a safe one. Jang just had to make sure not to give him any openings.

  The Sherpa girl was a larger concern. She seemed more unpredictable, Jang could see the emotion boiling just under the surface. It was a mistake to dismiss her before as he had, he had no intention of doing so again. Small or not, she was a threat. Like Shamsher, she had proven that these Sherpa people had a fire in their hearts that would not be easily doused. These were people worthy of his respect, and someone worthy of respect was worthy of fear.

  Still, he could see in her eyes concern for the odd man he held hostage. She winced whenever he cried out, she balled her fists when Jang threatened him. The girl did not want to risk harm to the small man and that was staying her hand for now.

  The real worry was the Western woman. There was a fire in her eyes the others lacked, and Jang watched those eyes dance from him back to her two companions. She didn’t want his hostage hurt, but she wanted other things, too. Given enough time, she might decide she wanted her other goals more. Jang needed to get the group to these Others before the she made her move.

  Why his hostage had not made a move against him was a mystery Jang could not sol
ve. He may have been smaller, but the scout was more than strong enough to break out of the hold Jang had him in. Yet since seeing the blade, the man had stayed cowed like a yak calf. It was confusing, but the behavior was consistent. More of that tempting fortune, he supposed. He didn’t dare believe in it.

  Thus, he instructed the three that he’d cut the man’s throat at the first sign of resistance or the first sound of their voices. It didn’t make him less afraid to see them shuffling along, seemingly defeated and with nothing to say, but he found himself smiling all the same. It hurt his frostbitten cheeks, but it was worth it.

  Fortunately, only a few minutes of sideways walking along the passage were required before they arrived at the camp of the Others. Jang had been here once before, hiding in the shadows as he studied his potential enemies and allies.

  Unlike the open cavern populated by the refugees who had taken in Adley and his group, the Others kept themselves in a defensible hollow. A cave within the cave; the long tube-like approach was the only entrance and exit. Also, unlike the refugees, the Others managed to keep their guards awake. One such man stood outside the entrance to the tube, reacting as Jang and his group stepped out of the shadows.

  The man approached him from the entrance of the hollow, wearing a dark cloak like these Others seemed to prefer. Inside the depths of his hood, the man’s features were hard to determine in the low light. The sharpness of his spear brandished in Jang’s direction, was not.

  Jang put on his best smile. This was an interaction he was familiar with, convincing the powerful he had something they wanted, it was only in moments like these when the fear receded. These were Jang’s moments.

  He put up one hand to show he held no weapon. This man was simply a guard, his power was his ability to delay Jang or injure him. The real power was inside the cave, and Jang needed access to that quickly, before one of his charges grew more confident.

  At any moment, the whole situation threatened to spiral out of Jang’s control, but this, too, was something he was familiar with. The man pointed his spear at Jang but said nothing, letting his silence ask the obvious questions.