by D. H. Dunn
Faking what she hoped was a believable stretch of fatigue, Nima twisted slightly while moving her hands toward Wanda’s. She felt the woman begin to work the rock against the ropes.
The man stirring his pot took no notice, simply staring into his meal as he coughed again.
“Nima,” Drew said. “If you get your hands free, then you could have better luck with mine or Wanda’s.”
Nima sighed, a sound she hoped was quiet enough. Drew’s habit of pointing out the obvious wasn’t always endearing, even if he meant well. She supposed talking probably kept him calm, since he had to sit there and wait for Wanda to work.
“Just start thinking about how we can free our feet,” Nima suggested. That would be a lot harder to hide. She doubted they could just hop their way out of the cave, guards or no guards. The image in her mind was comical, but she kept her expression stoic.
After a few moments, she felt the cool touch of Wanda’s rock against her skin as the last of the ropes gave way. Her heart began to beat faster as she fought to keep her worry and energy in check. She took a deep breath and released it. She couldn’t help anyone if she wasn’t calm.
She rubbed her wrists behind her back as the circulation in her hands increased, pins and needles prickling her fingers. She began to suggest Wanda pass her the rock.
“Someone’s coming,” Drew hissed, “up that back passageway.”
Nima pulled her hands back. She could also hear the footsteps of several people echoing through the dark, narrow passage in the rear of the cave. Two figures came through, one man and one woman. Both walked with limping paces and hunched shoulders, their clothing torn and dirty. One of the other men helped them toward the man with the pot. Bowls were quickly offered to the pair.
Two more of the Others led a smaller man through next, his head covered by a sack as he shuffled forward. He wore a bright orange jacket; the garment’s internal fibers now visible in the coat’s many tears. His heavy woolen pants were in a similar condition, as were his boots.
Nima gasped.
Pasang was alive!
She knew it was him, and her heart both soared and sank. Here he was, after all this time and effort.
She had not failed him. Her mother, her father, had they been here, they would not be able to say she had led her brother to his death. She could not see his face, but under that burlap was the same person who had been with her through everything.
His state caused her great concern. He walked as if he had not slept in days, his body shook as if every limb and joint ached. These Others must have been working him without rest since he had arrived, likely on this dangerous descent Kad had told her of.
The emotions built inside her, the joy and worry rushing to her head as one. There was no time for thought or planning, no way to keep her feelings in check.
She leapt to her feet, still bound as they were, her arms reaching out to her brother. “Pasang!”
All heads in the cave turned to look at her. She heard Wanda’s hiss of breath behind her, Drew struggling to his feet. A wave of red was building inside her quickly, pushing all the other sounds and thoughts from her mind.
“Nima?” came a weak cry from across the room, her brother’s cry. The wave crashed over her, washing all logic and sense away.
One of the men accompanying Pasang was running toward her. He might have had a weapon, but Nima’s mania did not give her time to notice. In seconds, the man was upon her, and that was what she needed.
She leaned forward with all her weight, dropping her shoulder and slamming the figure to the ground. She then brought one knee down into the man’s stomach, doubling him over.
She sensed Drew and Wanda around her, they may have been trying to guard her or block her from moving forward. Both were speaking, but she could not focus on them. All she could hear was her brother, all she could see were shapes in her way.
Pushing Drew and Wanda aside, she hobbled to the center of the room. Pasang was against the far wall now, two more of the Others barring her way. Even through the blood rushing to her head, she could now see the spears in their hands. They would have to gut her, she decided. She was going to get to her brother.
“Enough!” A male voice boomed through the cave, freezing Nima and her assailants. Along with the cloaked men, Nima turned toward the sound of the voice. A tall man stood halfway inside the dark crack at the end of the cave, his features drenched in shadow.
“My lord!” Perol burst into the room, running from the edge of the stone tunnel and toward the rear passage. Her sword still hung by her belt, but she held her shield as if she intended to throw it. At a glance from the man, she stopped halfway across the cave, coming to rest right next to Nima. She could see the heaving of the woman’s chest, the sweat forming on her brow.
“These are prisoners, my lord. They are . . .”
“Leave them be,” the taller man commanded, his voice filled with both age and authority. The guards dropped their combat stances, their spears returning to their sides.
The man had stepped a bit farther into the cave, allowing more light to touch him. Nima could see the robes and cloak of this man were of a finer material and richer color. The azure cloth was decorated with intricate designs and details that had been sewn in, though the cloth itself had become dirty and frayed.
One of the men still held Pasang firmly, the burlap bag still over his head. Nima longed to pull the bag off, to see her brother’s face once again, but there were too many men between her and him.
The tall man stepped fully out of the cave for a moment, surveying the three of them from the deep recesses of his hood. He nodded to Perol, who approached him with deference. After a short whispered exchange, the man walked back into the dark passage, his gait nearly as tired and worn as Pasang’s.
Perol addressed her men. “Rebind them,” she said. “Use the climbing ropes this time. Our lord wishes to see them at the entrance to the Descent. Escort them there.”
Perol then nodded at Pasang. “Take the Sirdar to the rest area and see that he is cared for. Attend to his feet and hands and see that he is given extra rations. All on our lord’s orders.”
“Yes, Attendant,” the lead man replied, rummaging through the dropped packs for additional rope. Nima yelled her frustration as Pasang was led away, exhausted. Perol glared at them as her men came forward, fresh rope in their hands.
For a moment, her brother had been within her reach. Now he had been ripped away again, and she was being taken to see this mysterious leader of the Others.
Ama’s eyes and judgement had never felt more present.
15
“One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen.”
—Rene Dumal
The path through the crack widened quickly as it descended, Nima noticed the air continued to get colder. She tested the new ropes binding her wrists together; pulling and twisting as the man behind her pushed her forward.
“Much better ropes.” she said, as much to herself as to the cloaked man. “I can see why you keep these for climbing.”
“No talking!” came Perol’s voice from the front, where she guided Wanda. Nima thought about arguing. Whoever this Lord was, he obviously wanted to talk to them, thus the Attendant’s threat carried little menace. But she thought better of it, deciding one outburst was enough for the time being.
She had seen Pasang. Moreover, she had heard him, his voice. Finally, after all the of worrying, after sleepless nights wondering what Ama would say, finally, she had proof that Pasang was still alive. If only she could have seen his face.
She forgave herself for her rush of emotion. She was sure it was not what Drew or Wanda would have done, and it was certainly not what her mother would have done. The removal of the crushing weight of guilt and responsibility that had been sitting on her like a mountain of its own . . . she had lost her head in the moment. When that release came, she was just glad she had not gotten them all killed.
“What
will you do if we speak?” Wanda asked from the front. Nima could only imagine Drew’s reaction behind her. “It is obvious your leader wishes to speak with us.”
Perol halted the procession and Nima almost collided with the cloaked figure in front of her, the stop was so sudden. A cold wind whipped through the narrow space, rustling through odd-colored grass that grew on the sides of the wall.
Nima pushed onto her toes to peek ahead.
Perol leaned in close to Wanda, her words level and flat yet somehow Nima still felt the menace. “If you speak after I asked you not to,” the woman paused, “I will remember.”
Without waiting for a reply, the Attendant started the group moving again. Nima was relieved Wanda did not challenge Perol further.
She wished she could speak to Drew, or even see him. Her mind began to fill with questions. She worried about Pasang, who must have been wondering where she had gone. What had they done with Kaditula? What did this leader want with them?
The crack they were following finally ended, opening into the largest cavern Nima had seen. It was larger than the refugee camp, larger than any tent or building she had ever been inside.
Many meters above her, where she had expected to see the same stalactites and outcroppings she had seen in the other caverns, she found the stone had been cut in a circular pattern, hundreds of yards across. Below that, a circular shaft of the same size had been bored into the mountain, the edges of the shaft was littered with gashes and scars, as if something huge had simply been pushed down through the rock with great force. A cold wind radiated up from the shaft, as chilled and potent as any she had felt on the slopes of Everest.
The tall, hooded man stood with his back to them, standing on a small ledge at the edge of the great chasm with his arms folded behind his back. The wind whipped his ornate cloak back and forth, small bursts of ice crystals coming up from the chasm to die at his feet.
“My lord,” Perol said as they were escorted out onto the ledge. The entire surface of the stone structure they stood upon was no larger than the cave the Others were camping in, small enough for the seven of them to feel crowded.
“Thank you, Attendant Perol,” the man said quietly, turning around to face them. His face was still barely visible in the dark depths of his hood. His voice held a measure of the power and menace Nima had felt before, but it was more subdued. “I am glad you brought me into the company of friends.”
Reaching up, the man slowly removed his hood. Nima gasped, her heart beginning to pound upon seeing the same wiry, thin beard. the wry smile, the eyes that almost seemed to wink at her.
“Carter? But how?” Nima yelled. “You―you were . . .” When they had last seen Carter, he was far behind them on the slopes of Everest.
“It’s Kater, actually. Carter was a simple and convenient inversion. If your question is, ‘Was I manipulating you all along?’” the man said, chuckling as he sat, “then, yes, I’m afraid so, my girl. It wouldn’t have been my first choice, but a lot was at stake. I couldn’t afford to take any chances. I’ve become a bit risk averse since becoming trapped in this Under.”
Even bound as she was, two of the guards struggled to hold Wanda back. “I don’t understand. You said . . . You knew my father. It was a lie? It was all a lie?”
“Actually,” Kater said, “most of it was true. I did know your father, and I did need your help getting up Everest.” He swung his gaze around the room, including Nima and Drew. “All of you.”
“But why lie?” Wanda asked.
“You knew this portal . . . this world was here the whole time!” Nima interjected.
“You told me you had been in the Great War!” Drew shouted.
Kater threw up his hands, laughing. It was the same laugh Nima had heard several times on their trip up Everest, as if this were nothing different. “I’ll never answer you all at once. I do need your help still, so perhaps if you’ll let me explain we’ll come to an understanding.”
“It would be easier to listen if we were unbound,” Drew said.
“I’m sure it would,” Kater replied with another chuckle. “No. I feel insecure enough with this great drop behind me. Risk averse and all, as I said. Still, I need your help, and answers seem fair. Now, where to begin?”
Wanda ceased her struggling, dropping down to one knee as she cradled her head with her bound hands. One guard released his hold on her, while the other maintained a grip on her shoulders. Strands of her red hair fell across her eyes.
“I suspect those friends of yours, the refugees have already explained some of what you need to know,” Kater said as he paced in front of the chasm’s edge. “They probably told you of our world, where magical abilities increase with altitude. Of the war between brother and sister, and how we now sit . . . all of us . . . trapped by the sister’s portals. By my sister’s portals . . .”
“Carter,” Nima said, her mouth gaping. “You are Upala’s brother?”
“Again, it’s Kater,” he corrected. “And yes, younger brother, though only by a few decades. We’re practically twins. By now I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. I attacked my sister’s library―a completely justified action I’d hasten to add. In the ensuing mêlée she somehow sent all of us here. To the Under, where even our Manad Vhan abilities are muted almost to the point of impotence. She’s made quite a mess of things, don’t you think?”
“I think I want to know how this will connect to my brother,” Nima said through gritted teeth.
“Yes, yes,” Carter said, holding up his hands. “If there’s anyone who understands the bond between brother and sister, it’s me. I can still feel the pain of our bond breaking. Just as you need your brother, I need my sister.” He nodded to the guards, who pulled the trio up to their feet.
Kater walked to the very edge of a rocky face, accepting a lit torch from one of the Others. He held it over the edge, the fire illuminating the view beyond him in a cascade of flicking red and orange, pushing back the shadows.
Nima could see the circular chasm stretched downward for hundreds of feet. The walls of the chasm were littered with crags and indents, outcroppings and cliffs. Somewhere from deep below, the cold air rushed up to meet them, threatening to blow the flames of Kater’s torch out.
“I need my sister,” he repeated. “We all do―she’s the only one who can take any of us home. These portals are of her discovery, her expertise. There are a few dozen or so scattered up here―those that still operate correctly mind you. It seems to me the Under is affecting them somehow, corrupting them until they wink out.” Kater spread his hands wide as he looked down into shadows below him. “But, down in her library, there are hundreds, thousands even. Protected by her magics, they are likely free of the Under’s influence. Yet their sheer numbers would defeat us even if we could reach them. Only my dear sister knows which of those many roads would take us home.”
Kater dropped down to one knee, peering over the edge. Nima followed his gaze, the drop seemingly infinite. He took a deep breath then turned to face them.
Kater said, “So here it is, why I’ve taken you, all of you. What I need now is simple, but beyond any of my people. Believe me, we’ve tried. Lost more than we could afford to.”
“Get to the point,” Drew said.
“Ah, the point. Yes, it does take me time to get to those. I guess when you have more time, you take more time. You quicklifes are much more impatient. Here, then, is the point, Mister Adley. Upala, my sister, the spell-queen who’s trapped us all here. She’s trapped down there, in her library.” Kater dropped the torch and watched it disappear in the blackness below. “You three, as well as your dear brother, Nima―you are going to take me to her.”
“Madness,” Wanda said. “That chasm. It looks . . . impossible. Even for the best of climbers.”
“As far as the population of the Under is concerned, Miss Dobrowolski―you are the best of climbers. If you four cannot get us down there, then we will all die inside your Everest. Starvation, madness, t
he worms, Vihrut. Each other. If you fail to get me to her, nothing else will matter.”
“If we refuse?” Drew asked, fists clenching. “Everything you’ve told us has been nothing but lies. Why should we believe you?”
Kater kept his back to Drew, holding his arms out wide as if he meant to embrace the dark abyss in front of him.
Flames burst from his hands, the chamber bursting into new illumination. Embers dripped off Kater’s fingers like they were wax from a candle. Nima gasped at the display. The room returned to its darkened state as the fiery display ended.
“I said my abilities were reduced”―Kater’s voice echoed in the shadows―“not absent. A cloth-covered foot may still crush an insect.” Kater turned back to face them again, his lips curled back as he stared at Drew. “Refuse me and I will burn them, Adley. I will burn them one by one while you watch.”
Kater breathed in deeply, releasing a sigh as the wry grin returned to his lips.
“Yet that only happens if you make it happen, friends. I am not looking for conflict with any of you. I simply wish your help reaching my sister, so we all may go home.”
Nima thought of Pasang, tired and exhausted somewhere in another part of the Other’s’ caves. Of Merin and Kad, who only wished to return to their children. Drew and Wanda, who deserved happy lives and answers to their dreams.
None of them deserved to die, starving inside this darkened world under a mountain. If Kater’s sister could get them home, perhaps working with the deceitful old man really was their best choice.
“And what will you do, once you reach your sister?” Nima asked.
“Why kill her of course,” Kater replied. The smile never left his face.
16
“I will find a way out or make one.”
—Robert Peary
Jang followed the old man through the winding passages of the Others’ encampment, his mind racing nearly as fast as the pace Kater was setting. He rubbed his wrists, his skin still burning from the recently removed ropes that had bound them. Perol, the female lieutenant had removed his bonds, then left on his instructions as Kater led him to their destination alone.