Fractured Everest Box Set

by D. H. Dunn

  Sunlight fell from a crisp, blue sky, warming the majestic mountain, its slopes alive with the sound of birdsong. The wind carried the scent of flowers to her, while bringing gooseflesh to her arms. Breathing in deep, her lungs filled with strength.

  Far from the dead air of the mountain she knew, this was a place abundant with life. It was like something from a story, a fable.

  Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. There would be time for food and shelter. Those were problems, and right now Nima wasn’t interested in problems.

  In all times of life, Nima’s grandfather had told her, you can focus on your troubles, or see what’s over the next hill.

  She could still see him, her father’s father, arriving at their village in northern Nepal as he always had. Unexpected, and bearing stories and books. As a little girl, Nima would rush to greet him, this amazing, world-travelling Sherpa, letting him scoop her into his arms and fill her mind with tales and adventures.

  Nima’s mother had never approved. She could still see Ama standing in the corner with her folded frown and folded arms. To Nima, her mother’s disapproval had only made her grandfather more special. Unlike Nima or her father, he wasn’t afraid of Ama. He would sit right there in the room and read stories to Nima, Ama’s scowling quickly giving way to worlds of kings and queens, knights and dragons.

  Now Nima wished for all her heart that he could see her, see the adventure she was about to take for her own. It was not an adventure without challenges, but Nima was sure her problems would solve themselves over the next hill, just as her grandfather had said.

  She pulled herself to her feet, a thin layer of snow sticking wet to her back. Her stomach growled again, a bit more adamant this time.

  “Fine, fine,” she said to no one. “Time to get going.”

  She looked up, trying to see the peak of this Everest, but there was a steady bank of clouds that seemed to cluster around the top of the mountain, staying there despite the blue skies and the steady wind.

  She guessed she was still at the same altitude she had reached on the Everest of her world, a snowy and chilling height of just under eight thousand meters. There, she had encountered harsh winds and a biting cold that had eaten through her clothing like paper, snow as deep as her waist at times. It had been beautiful in its own way, but deadly.

  This Everest was nothing like that.

  Low bushes peeked out from cracks in the rock, yellow flowers bloomed abundantly, clinging to ivy that twisted and turned through the stones of the mountain. Here and there was an odd patch of snow, perhaps a holdover from a receding winter.

  The air itself was completely different. Rich in smells and life, each breath filled Nima’s lungs with oxygen and strength. As she paced around the small clearing the magical portal had deposited her on, her limbs rejoiced in new strength and energy. She felt as if she could run down the mountain. As she cast her eyes around her, the land features looked the same. Lhoste, Nupste and all the familiar peaks were here, their sides each painted with emerald grasses, just as in bloom as Everest.

  Down the mountain was another matter. When she had first arrived in this strange green world, she could see clearly down this new Everest. No Khumbu Icefall awaited her at the bottom, but rather a wide river, blue and moving with a strength and power that was evident even at this distance. The land around the river was rockier, less greens and more browns, leading to a deep forest, its dark interior resistant to light. Beyond the forest, she witnessed a sight so surreal that she struggled to wrap her mind around it.

  An ocean, a great sea with Everest not far from its shore. A plain of rolling water, sparkling in the sunlight, extending out to the horizon.

  It was as magical as anything she had ever laid eyes on, an expanse of blue and green that was so beautiful, so filled with possibilities her heart was nearly pained by the sight of it.

  Enchanted though she was, Nima was still paying close attention to the changing scene down the mountain. Not long after she had arrived, she spied a storm brewing in the distance, carrying dark clouds and lightning as it appeared over the ocean on the horizon. It seemed to be heading right for her. She couldn’t predict if the storm would rise to her altitude, but she was sure if it did, she would find no shelter from it in this pastoral setting.

  The mountain and the surrounding lands were breathtaking, yet the constant silence made her uneasy.

  There were many sounds of course. Nima could hear the wind foremost. It whipped through her hair as it rushed past to the summit. Not as violent or as bitter cold as the wind of her Everest, but it was ever-present.

  Birds flew overhead, squawking and chattering to each other. There were rustles in the leaves of the bushes, made by either small rodents or the breeze pushing through the branches. Every now and then she would hear a growl or a snort. Somewhere there was a larger animal, but she couldn’t locate it.

  But there was no talking. With a suddenness that shocked her, Nima realized she might be the only person on this world. After months with Drew and Pasang, weeks staying with Gyalzen and Dorjee and the many people she met in the Under, she had become accustomed to companionship. Nima did not mind being alone for short periods of time, but the idea of being alone forever was another matter entirely.

  Her mind drifted to Wanda, the Polish woman’s severe face that occasionally allowed a smile, the shock of red hair, her fierce mind and passionate commitment to her homeland. Nima felt a pang that she had not experienced for Pasang or Drew; she believed they were safe. She could not know for certain, but they were both safe the last time she saw them and she chose to believe they stayed that way,

  Yet Wanda was truly gone. With a brave smile, she had stood between Kater and the monster Vihrut, crashing Kater’s head into the giant red crystal. There had been a terrible flash of light and energy as Upala was freed.

  When the brilliance had subsided, Nima had found Wanda’s shattered body on the ground, the life ripped from it by the force of the explosion. Yet to Nima it seemed she had died happy, understanding finally who she was and what she wanted.

  Questions Wanda had asked Nima herself the night before she died, though Nima was still unsure of the answers.

  “Well, just because you’re gone, Wanda,” Nima said. “Doesn’t mean I can’t talk to you still.” She looked around the clearing and heard no answer from the birds, the bushes or the wind. The path down the mountain beckoned, and now the world seemed a little less empty, just by evoking her friend’s memory.

  “I guess we should see what is down there, right?” Nima said.

  Talking to Wanda was better than talking to herself, and it allowed her voice to be in the air. Hearing herself made this world seem more real and less like a dream, even if she still felt like she had stepped into one of grandfather’s stories.

  She brushed her dark hair out of her eyes, annoyed that it was getting too long. She could feel it tickling the lower part of her neck, getting dangerously close to her shoulders.

  She wondered if she might find a way to cut it here. Nima decided to add that to her list of things to do. Her mother had insisted on her keeping her hair long, never listening to how much Nima disliked it. When Ama had died, Nima had gone into the barn the next day and cut it as short as she could, and had tried to keep it that way ever since.

  The wind brought another scent of flowers from further down the mountain, yet also served to remind Nima it had been several days since she had taken a bath. Perhaps she would find a pool or spring lower on the mountain.

  Peering down the slopes, she studied the long expanse of trees as they covered the land between her and sea, looking for a sign of closer water.

  A deep, low growl came suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts. Nothing like she had heard earlier, this was no rodent or small animal.

  The sound came from off to her left, a bit lower and unlike any noise she had ever heard. It was a low rumbling mixed with a hiss, as if a kettle had combined with a snake. Nima froze, focusi
ng on the sound, feeling a tingle of fear running up her back.

  She scanned the area around her, her breath trapped in her chest. She peered into the dense bushes, the patchy tracks of snow, the scattered boulders that seemed strewn across the path.

  Nothing.

  After a moment of listening to her own heartbeat she exhaled and began moving again. She hadn’t imagined the sound, but there was no sense in standing around waiting for something to jump on her.

  “I guess we can’t be too careful,” she said to Wanda. She reminded herself to be wary, to not rush down the mountain like her feet wanted her to.

  In her many traipses through the wilderness of Nepal and the Khumbu Valley, she had encountered plenty of wild animals. Most likely she had stepped too close to something’s nest or lair. Pushing her concerns out of her mind, she continued working down a scrabble of rock that formed a rough route farther down the mountain.

  Her progress was easy, and Nima found herself humming a tune as she made her descent. Her stomach continued to complain, but she was sure she’d find something better to eat than berries once she gained a lower altitude. Whatever animal she had heard ate something after all.

  First shelter, then food, she reminded herself, looking at the darkening clouds coming in from the ocean.

  Nima crested a small rise in the mountain, seeing a grass covered Lhoste Face reflected in afternoon sun. The first drop of cold rain landed on her cheek, an early ambassador of the clouds approaching from the south.

  Against the rising wind she heard the growling again.

  Nima looked to her left and right. The terrain was more forgiving than the Everest she knew, but she was still effectively on an angled knife edge of rock and grasses about a meter wide. Beyond that was a drop of several thousand meters in either direction. As the growling in front of her got closer, its owner appeared, moving out from behind a fallen boulder.

  The creature was only about as long as her leg, and about as wide. It resembled a snake with legs to Nima, she could count at least three pairs of limbs as it stared back at her, dark-red eyes framed by black-scaled skin. The beast’s mouth opened as it let out another hiss of a growl, the mouth looking more like a clamp than the jaw, the maw filled with even more teeth than she had expected.

  A shiver ran through her as she started to perspire, her sweat cooling in the growing wind.

  The creature stared back at her, hissing again. As it did so, blue lightning arced around the beast’s long body. She took a step back in surprise. Even in the Under she had not seen anything like that, except in Vihrut itself.

  Another strange growl came suddenly, this one from behind her, and Nima ducked more out of fear than any sense of reaction or planning. The second legged snake sailed over her, landing atop its surprised cohort.

  Moving more than thinking, Nima sprinted at the pair of entwined beasts before they had a chance to right themselves, pebbles and stones flying behind her boots as she fought to keep her footing. She spread her arms for balance as she ran past them, starting to feel her feet slide against the terrain.

  Another pair of raindrops landed in her eyes as she fought to control her footing. She could hear her breath battle against the wind, her heart pounded in her chest. Her mind struggled to regain control.

  You cannot panic on the mountain. The words of the Shipton party’s sirdar, the lead Sherpa of the group that attempted Everest just a week before she ended up on the great mountain’s slopes. The words had been more for her brother, Pasang, than for her, but she had listened all the same. Panic will get you dead.

  Pushing her feet into the ground, she brought herself to a stop. The creatures might be in pursuit behind her, she had to assume they were. Still, by running, she was only likely to get herself killed. Allowing herself one deep breath in, she held it, feeling her lungs expand in her chest and back. She slowly let it out, the air escaping through her teeth.

  She turned around and peered back up the knife edge, the orange light of the afternoon sun bouncing off the stones and boulders. There were no creatures, no black snakes bouncing from rock to rock in chase of her. Nothing in the shadows cast by the sun, no movement in the stones and rocks. No sounds on the wind save her breathing.

  “Maybe they are gone?” she asked Wanda.

  Wanda was a silent as the mountain had become. The tightness in her chest loosened but would not fully release, the sweat on her palms and underarms growing damp and cold.

  Perhaps they fell, she supposed. Or they went off in search of easier prey. Even against two of them, Nima might seem fearsome she supposed.

  She turned back around, looking at her options down the mountain as the rain began to taper off, the sky clearing as quickly as it had darkened.

  When she had arrived on this world, it had seemed full, bursting at the seams with adventure and potential. Now, with water dripping from her wet hair while her chest heaved, and her pulse pounded in her eyes, this world had become empty. Alone.

  Then, as magical and surprising as a shooting star, her eyes caught the tiniest hint of smoke in the distance, curling up from the center of the forest. Caught by the wind, it twisted in the air like a thin, gray ribbon.

  Smoke! Her heart jumped at the sight. Nima pushed her damp hair out of her eyes, squinting to make sure she was not seeing things.

  Sure enough, a second thin line made its way up from the far-off forest, escaping through the treetops.

  Smoke might mean people, and people meant shelter, food and adventure. She clapped her hands with joy, a new wellspring of energy building up inside her.

  The smoke twisting far off in the forest was a sign, and it called to her. That would be her goal, to find the fire and its maker, while avoiding whatever might be hiding in the rocks and bushes on the way.

  She contemplated her path down the mountain again, as well as searching for something to eat. She was not yet starving nor was she terribly cold, but likely that would not stay true.

  A route to her left seemed more promising, even if it led her into a colder portion of the landscape, the mountain’s shadow allowing for snow and ice to cover the rocks along the way. It still seemed safer to her, wild animals were less likely to be present.

  She had only walked for a small time, trying to relax and enjoy the sound and feel of the snow crunching under her boots when a cry rang out. The voice sounded human, and female.

  She froze, new excitement pushing away any lingering fear she was feeling from the animals she had encountered.

  Another person!

  Nima ran, the sound coming from around a corner in her path, the view ahead blocked by a large wall of snow-covered stone.

  As she carefully rounded the stone, the shout came again, much closer. A long finger of snow and rock stabbed out from the mountain, the drop below the outcropping looked to be massive.

  Barely visible at the edge of the stone were five gloved fingers. The first person Nima had seen in this strange world, and she was just inches away from death.

  Chapter 2

  Nima crept forward on her hands and knees, moving carefully across the snow. The precipice stuck out away from the mountain like a thin, icy finger, narrow and jagged. Little points of rock stuck up through the white powder, with a lone glove clutching for life at the edge.

  Kneeling onto the precipice, Nima shuffled forward with a drop of hundreds of meters only a hand’s length away on either side of her. Fear gave everything a sharp edge.

  Her heart shuddered as she heard the woman’s call again, weaker this time, the sound echoing across the mountain.

  Nima made her way to the edge of the rocky outcropping, laying on the snow and digging both her toes into the mountain. She grabbed on to the gloved hand, peering over the edge to see its owner.

  A woman looked back up at her, eyes wide and startled by Nima’s sudden appearance. She had ebony skin with dark braided hair that flew behind her like waves. She looked to be close to Nima’s age, young but across the threshold i
nto adulthood. A white triangle had been tattooed on her forehead, the symbol sitting above eyes that were wild with panic. One arm clung to the stone, a red cloth tied around her bicep. The other arm flailed to grab onto the outcropping. Two legs dangled above a drop that looked to Nima to go all the way down the mountain.

  The woman’s mouth was moving, chanting something that was too quiet for Nima to hear.

  “Stop moving!” Nima didn’t want to yell, but she could see it would take a lot to get through the woman’s panic. “Give me your arm and I can pull you up!”

  Nima kicked deeper into the snow with her boots, grateful to find good traction in the rocks underneath. She wondered if the woman could even understand her. The portal’s magic had allowed her to speak other languages before, but that had been in the Under.

  The woman continued to swing her legs and her free arm, putting more pressure on the other arm that kept her aloft. Nima put both her hands around the strong forearm, pushing down with her knees to try and stay stable.

  “My name is Nima,” she said more quietly. Perhaps if she kept her voice calm, she would convince the woman to be calm too.

  She did her best to try and hold the terrified eyes with her own. “Do you understand me? I am Nima. What is your name?”

  “Tanira.” She had deep voice that matched the strength and muscles Nima could see underneath the leather. “Tanira is my name.”

  Nima gave Tanira what she hoped was her most sincere smile. She was relieved that she was understood, but the pain in her muscles was increasing. It was harder to keep herself stable on the mountain, she could feel the snow wanting to slide her forward.

  Nima took a quick breath, willing herself stay calm. She had to, or they were both lost.

  “Hello, Tanira. Nice to meet you.” She increased her grip while pushing down with her feet and legs. “Tanira, can you take your other arm and grab onto mine?”

  Chomolungma, if you can hear me in this place, help me.