by D. H. Dunn
“Family can be . . . everything,” Wanda said.
Drew wondered if she were thinking of her father, her sisters, it could be anyone. For him, even his own family had not always been a source of strength. “I know you would kill for your cause, Wanda. I may not agree with it, but I can learn to accept that.”
“Yes. I have, and I will again, perhaps,” Wanda said. “As my family has done before me. It does not please me that this is my legacy, but my sacrifice can be no less than theirs. Like you, though, I see in Nima something . . . unexpected. Perhaps in you as well.”
“I ask you your own question, then,” Drew said, closing his eyes again. The fatigue was coming to him in waves, a relentless tide that pushed farther into his consciousness. “Would you kill to protect us rather than your goal? What are you willing to die for here?”
As he waited for her response, faces he could no longer push away danced in front of his vision on the dark stone above him.
He wanted to see her, the woman from his dreams, but tonight he failed to summon her visage. If the route to her were truly here, his path to her seemed blocked.
The dying cries of sailors began to mix with the sound of his own breathing, water closing over his shipmates as exhaustion consumed him.
If Wanda answered his question, Drew didn’t hear it. He was already asleep.
17
“Stupidity is falling prey to your own illusions.”
—Wojciech Kurtyka
Jang peered into the camp of the refugees, taking care to keep himself in the shadows. Much was different in this world inside the mountain, but darkness still made him feel safe. In the absence of light, many lies could be seen as truth.
The rumbling breathing of the creature behind him was the only reminder of the Yeti he needed. When he had approached the Icefall, this had been his prize, this white-furred animal of impossible gifts.
Now, it was both more and less. Too intelligent to be considered a pure beast, yet subservient and honor-bound to a code this Kater had mastered.
One of many gifts Kater might be willing to share with Jang, should he play his game correctly. It would take skill to see the old man’s moves far enough in advance, but Jang had known many men like Kater.
Inside the chamber, two figures milled about near a circular collection of small tents. Many more were damaged. The signs of a recent battle were visible all around.
One tall woman gave instruction to the only other man standing, the two hovering over a collection of moaning bodies laid upon cots and blankets. This woman must be Merin, the goal of his first test from Kater.
He turned back to the beast, looking past the mass of white fur and into the dark recesses of the Yeti’s eyes. He would show no fear, no sign of the terror that gripped him.
“Remember you are pledged to me, creature. You are to ensure my protection.”
“I do not need a reminder of my rocha, unnamed.”
In the narrow confines of the twisting passage that had led them to the refugee camp, the beast’s voice echoed with even more strength.
Unnamed? Was that an insult? Jang recalled the Yeti had referred to Kater as “the Trusted,” an honorarium the others in Kater’s group had not used.
“Unnamed? Am I no less worthy of a title than the old man? The Trusted?”
“The conclave bestows the titles, not I, unnamed. Were I given that honor, the Trusted would have a different designation.”
Jang chuckled, noting the beast’s negative opinion of Kater with interest. There were always cracks in the ice that men of power walked upon. The key was to be observant enough to see them and patient enough to let them keep until the proper time.
“And your name is . . .”
“Not for your ears, unnamed. Let us be done with this task. There are greater dangers here than you realize.”
“Very well,” Jang said. He looked back into the camp, happy to now see only the woman was standing. Any of these people might be a physical match for Jang, and the Yeti was not his only source of confidence.
He watched her as she checked on each of the wounded that lay in the tents and on cots. She conferred with the second man as she placed her hand on his shoulder, offering what Jang suspected were words of encouragement.
She cared, which made her vulnerable to manipulation. Jang had no such weakness. He would never lower himself to be concerned for the welfare of a subordinate, yet this woman did. So, when he strode into the camp in full view of his prey, he did not fear their reaction or reprisal.
Merin turned her head quickly at the sound of their approach, her gaze shooting past Jang and focusing on his enormous companion. A look of recognition crossed her eyes. She had seen the Yeti before or had seen others of its kind.
She ran toward them, her approach confident enough to give Jang pause. She had seen the beast he had brought, yet she valued those she protected enough to push past her fear.
The other man attending to the wounded began to rush forward to join her. Merin sent him back with a simple hand gesture, clearly not afraid to face them alone. That a female could show such backbone was unnerving.
“You come from him,” she said, still walking toward them. She was now staring at Jang, sizing him up. “From Kater. I recognize you, Yeti. Your kind should be more astute in their alliances.”
“Perhaps,” the low thunder of the Yeti’s voice vibrated into Jang’s back. “Yet the Trusted does not harvest our honored fallen as your spell-queen does.”
“Politics,” Jang said, trying to affect a smile. “Present in all cultures.” Merin shifted her attention to him, which was pleasing. It was important to direct the conversation. “I am Bahadur Jang,” he said, bowing. “As you have surmised I am in the service of your enemy. I am here because I have something of yours; something you love.”
Her reaction was instant, the fire coming to her eyes. She wanted to rush forward and attack him, he could see it. Yet she was smart enough to hold her anger in check.
“Where is my husband? The others?”
“The small one, the one who fidgets and twitches? He is with my lord, unharmed for now. Several others who were in his company are being held as well.”
Merin’s left eye twitched, betraying her concern, though her jaw set, demonstrating her anger. Her emotions were spread out before Jang like cards on the table.
“Kater wishes me to bargain for their return?” Merin cast her arm around the vast chamber. “We have nothing to offer him. We are down to the last our last supplies and our people lay injured and wounded.”
“I am not here to bargain, woman. I am here to collect. Kater requests you, and you alone. My lord’s large companion is here to ensure this transaction, and to ensure there is no unpleasantness.”
The lone figure standing in the camp site began to walk toward them. Merin looked over her shoulder, pointing back toward the circle of yurts.
“Hold, Ridhan,” Merin ordered. Jang found himself impressed at the commanding tone she was able to place into her voice. “See to the injured as I asked.”
The man paused and seemed to consider this for a moment. He then turned and slowly walked back to the collection of cots and blankets.
Merin squared her shoulders and looked Jang directly in his eyes.
“Bahadur Jang, I will accompany you without incident should your companion agree to my terms. The Yeti are known for their honor.”
The wall of fur behind Jang said nothing, its breathing as steady and slow as the tide.
“Terms?” Jang said, a smile crossing his lips. That the woman thought this was a negotiation was fascinating, yet the maneuver also allowed a tiny flame of concern grow inside him. Had he allowed himself to become overconfident? Did this Merin know something he did not?
“Kater’s people have medical supplies. A portion of those will be brought back here. The last attack from Vihrut and the worms has left us devastated. What few people we have left are injured or dying, only Ridhan and I remain to care
for them.”
Jang allowed the smile to leave his lips. There was a move coming, he needed to prepare.
“Then you bargain with no leverage, woman.”
Merin shook her head, her dark complexion matching the shadows in her stare. “I have all the leverage I need, male. I have value to you. With your lord’s sister lost there is no one in this Under who can manage the portals. No one who might be able to return everyone home.”
In a flash a knife appeared in the woman’s hand, Merin holding the weapon at her throat. Jang took a step back, stunned by the bold action.
“No one except me,” she said. “And I do not intend to help you unless I can help these people. I would die first, and my beloved would honor me for doing so.”
He narrowed his eyes as he looked up at her, searching for weakness, for doubt. “A bluff.”
“A fact,” Merin said, her gaze unwavering.
Jang considered his options. He could feel his plans crumbling around him. His feet began to tremble. Kater would not accept him returning without his prize, yet he trusted his instincts regarding the woman’s resolve.
There was a path here, there always was, he just needed to find it. He shifted his tone, moving from a position of negotiation to authority. Jang had to believe he had the power here, or she would sense his weakness.
“Woman, your death would serve nothing. If you―”
He stopped, his legs were shaking as a series of vibrations passed through the cavern. What he had thought was his own nerves now seemed to be the signs of some greater tremor or quake.
“Unnamed!” the Yeti shouted. The light from the crystals embedded it its back glowed brightly enough to throw Jang’s form in shadow along the stone floor. “Ward yourself―something approaches. I sense―”
The shuddering increasing, there was a crash deeper in the cavern. Merin looked over her shoulder at the sound, her worry for her companions betraying her at last. Jang leaped forward at her, hoping to pull the knife from her hands.
The ground underneath the circle of yurts exploded in a shattering of stone and blood. Jang saw a massive form burst into the chamber directly beneath the encampment, the entire area decimated by its arrival.
The force of the outburst threw all of them down to the stone where they lay like stunned children. Jang stumbled as he landed clumsily on Merin just as the shock wave from the eruption hit.
Thrashing through a fog of dirt and debris, the dark shape twisted as it turned toward them, its horrifying visage draining Jang of all hope, replacing his every thought with fear and terror.
It truly was a demon, there could be no other word for it. A horrifying snakelike body pulled itself toward them, the circular mouth ringed with teeth and surrounded by dozens of eye stalks. It used its large, powerful arms to gain speed as it approached. From its back, broad wings unfurled and flapped, forcing even more dust into the air.
Worst of all was the stomach, a large bulbous sac of fluid, inside which Jang could see the shredded remains of its recently consumed victims―arms, legs and whole bodies sloshing inside the thick yellow fluid.
This was death given form, racing at him with murderous abandon.
The charging demon turned its head to the ground, sending a fresh wave of tremors through the cavern as it burrowed into the stone, passing through the rock like water. In an eyeblink it was gone, only a whip crack of its tail through the air noted its passing into the earth.
Shaking his head, he pushed himself to his feet. The Yeti was rising behind him, the last bastion of defense Jang might be able to count on. Yet even the strength of the huge white-furred beast seemed like a pittance compared to the monster.
Jang looked down at the crumpled form of Merin, at his feet. Unconscious, she bled from a gash across her forehead. Her knife lay meters away, tossed by the force of the eruption.
In the far-off camp, Jang could see no sign of life. A cloud of dust hung over the area, where scattered bits of fabric were mixed with blood and torn limbs.
“We must return, unnamed. Back to the Trusted, while this beast is sated.”
Jang waited for the Yeti to pick up Merin’s unmoving form. When the creature did not, he squatted down and threw her body over his shoulder, grunting with the effort. He turned away from the ruins of the refugee camp, the entrance to the winding passage back to Kater only about ten meters distant.
With a thunderclap the stone floor of the cavern burst open again, the horrific beast emerging directly in their path. If gods truly were real, Jang suspected he was being punished by them.
“I will clear this route,” the Yeti said, its massive form charging past Jang. The crystals protruding from his back began to glow a bright crimson. “Continue with her. I will forestall as best I can.”
With a roar that shook the air around him, the Yeti raced toward the snake-like beast. Two blue hands reached into the fur on its shoulders, pulling red crystals from its skin and igniting them like fiery blades.
Watching the Yeti’s approach, the coiled monster cast both of its muscled arms in the air, as if it waited to embrace its adversary. Swiping forward with its claws, it struck only air as the Yeti vanished in a cloud of lavender sparks.
The white-furred form reappeared behind the surprised monster, jamming both of its flaming weapons into the serpent’s neck. Grunting with exertion, the Yeti began to pull its struggling foe away with the use of the embedded crystals. The monster thrashed and clawed wildly.
“Run!” the Yeti shouted as the path to the chamber’s exit was now clear. Jang summoned all his remaining energy, using his terror to power his legs as he surged forward, the heavy form of Merin forcing him to move in a crouch.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Yeti stagger as the demon finally landed an attack with a powerful arm, raking its claws across its enemy’s chest, white fur turning red.
Jang passed out of the chamber, his heart pounding as he struggled forward. The tunnel twisted back and forth, slowing his progress. Behind him he heard the titanic battle continue, the twin roars of the Yeti and the monster mixing into one long angry song of pain.
Jang slumped forward around yet another turn in the stone passage, shocked to see the Yeti appear directly in his path.
The great creature had been devastated by the battle. Its fur was now a mass of red, too many wounds covering its form for Jang to count them all. It pulled air into its lungs in huge, labored gasps. The crystals on its shoulders glowed with a dim light, the color barely discernible.
“Unnamed.” Its voice was nearly a whisper now, a ragged wet sound devoid of strength or power. “I am not the equal of this abomination.”
Jang dropped to one knee, leaning against the stone wall to lessen the weight of his load. His body was in pain, but the depth of the Yeti’s wounds dwarfed his own hurts. How could any man or beast continue in such a condition?
It fixed Jang with its gaze, nodding at Merin’s form slung over his shoulder.
“Take her back to the Trusted. Now, before it recovers. Do not waste―”
A shudder passed through the Yeti, the lights inside its crystals flickering feebly. Jang found his mind stuck, as if in deep snow, as he pondered the mystery before him
Jang had misjudged them. He had hoped to use the Yeti, but this was no animal, no mere resource. There was a nobility here, beyond what he could have expected. Like Shamsher, this being was strong and honorable. Neither a savage beast nor a fool like Adley or Kater, in the restored dynasty the Yeti could have a place befitting its gifts. Not a tool, but an army.
“You are injured,” Jang said. His voice sounded odd in the tiny confines of the passage, like the words of a stranger. “I will assist you. There could be healing.”
The Yeti stood, a new blue-tinged light sputtering into its crystals once more.
“No.” The voice had regained some of its thunder, though the words sounded frayed, like a rope about to break. “There is no healing for me. I will approach emdak with my
rocha whole. Do not waste this moment!”
One massive paw wrapped around Jang’s side, pulling him to his feet and pushing him back down the rocky corridor. The Yeti then stood, turning back toward the cave where it had battled the great serpent.
Far off, Jang could hear an echoed roar, a renewed call to conflict. The passage began to tremble with its approach.
“It steals the gifts of others, but I will not allow it,” the Yeti called into the shadows of the Under. “This beast cannot obtain the gifts of the Yeti! Ish elan ay rocha!”
The crystals that pushed through the Yeti’s white fur began to oscillate and the beast vanished in a burst of azure sparks which danced before Jang’s eyes.
When they faded the Yeti was still before him, but now its form was partially embedded in the stone wall. One half of its face looked at him with dead eyes, a single dark pupil now lifeless. Its mouth was open, only half of it emerging from the rock that it had transported itself inside.
Its sacrifice complete, the Yeti’s words echoed in Jang’s mind.
Do not waste this moment.
Grunting against the load weighing down on his shoulder, Jang headed along the passage, toward his reunion with Kater.
Every dark shadow became the white beast’s dead eyes, every shudder and vibration the sound of the Yeti’s voice. Whatever future awaited him, whatever path he found that might lead the dynasty back into power, a brick on that road belonged to a white-furred beast.
Do not waste.
With honor and guilt at his heels, Jang found within himself the strength to run.
I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
Pasang was laying on a blanket a few feet away, just as he had done most of her life. Except this was a small, guarded cave, not their bedroom. And she could not hear Ama and Awa arguing nearby. But the feeling was similar.
“I know, Kikuli.” A second name, given to Pasang when they were both small. Nima had been very ill, and her mother had taken to calling Pasang “the little one” to better convince any evil spirits or demons that he was not worth taking as well.