Fractured Everest Box Set

by D. H. Dunn

  “Wait!” she said, pushing with all her weight. It would not be enough, he was too strong. Could he even understand her? “We found this man just moments ago! We did not harm him!”

  He had nearly pushed her off when she felt Tanira’s arms join her own, the woman’s weight coming on top of her to add to the pressure. With their combined effort, they subdued him.

  Even immobile, he still struggled underneath them.

  Frustration building up, Nima brought her head down, smacking the man with what she hoped was just enough force to shake him out of the frenzy he was in.

  She felt the heat of his crystal as her head contacted his, stars coming to her eyes.

  The man stopped his movements and now just stared at her, blinking his eyes while the red light continued to glare unabated.

  “I’m Nima,” she said, the pain in her forehead throbbing. She’d have to remember those crystals hurt if you struck them. She hoped the magic of the portals still held true, and he could understand her.

  “I am not here to hurt you, and we did not harm this man. If we release you, will you listen to us?”

  Nima felt the removal of the weight above her as Tanira climbed off. She felt some satisfaction that the women trusted her to handle the man. Beneath Nima, her captive took in a deep breath and released it slowly, the intensity of his crystal dropping as he did so.

  “Valaen,” he said. He looked much as the other man did, though the scales on his skin were even more subtle. “My name is Valaen a Ola. This man--” He let out a sob. “That man in the river. That body was my father.”

  His father? Nima let out a gasp, recalling the moment when she had found her mother in a similar state, trampled to death by a yak. No wonder he attacked us with such fury.

  “I – I am so sorry,” Nima said, climbing off Valaen. The water of the brook ran around them as she sat upon a small stone. Valaen stood, looking at them both while shaking his head.

  Tanira knelt next to him, tracing the symbol on her head with her fingers. “My thoughts to you, my tears for you. To lose a parent--I cannot imagine my grief, were I to lose my father.”

  Nima put her hand on the man’s bare shoulder, the emerald skin feeling drier than she expected.

  “I am sorry as well. Like I said, he was like this when we came across him.”

  Valaen stood, brushing Nima’s hand off his shoulder. His hands were back into fists, the crystal in his head beginning to glow more brightly again.

  “And how did you two come ‘across him’?” Valaen asked, an edge returning to his voice. “You look like no one I have ever seen. Are you with the Thartark? Did they send you?”

  “We are . . . travelers,” Nima said. “We come from far away. I have never heard of these Thartark. Have you Tanira?”

  Nima caught a quick nod from Tanira, happy to get an acknowledgement of her choice to keep their origins vague. The secrets of Tanira’s quest were too important to be careless with.

  “I have not,” Tanira said, stepping past the pair. She pulled a cloth out of her bag, placing it over Valaen’s father’s head and moving the body to the banks of the stream.

  “In fact, we’ve only known each other for about a day.” Nima added.

  Valaen moved away from her to look at his father’s remains. His gaze went from the wounds on the torso to each limb in turn, his webbed hands remaining balled into fists. The crystal embedded in his forehead continued to glow bright red.

  “It looked to us like an animal attacked him,” Nima offered. “We’ve seen some fearsome--”

  “Darkeels,” Valaen said, now kneeling by his father’s body. “The Wood is thick with them at this season, no one should be out here alone.”

  Nima felt a shiver as she looked around. The wood now appeared filled to her with dark shadows, deep bushes and too many places where these monsters might hide.

  She took a step closer to Tanira.

  “If you shouldn’t be alone out here, then why was your father?”

  “He was cast out of our village.” Valaen turned away from the body of his father, still glaring at them both. “Exiled two days ago by his own people. A death sentence, and they all knew it. Punishment for trying to save us from the Thartark.”

  “Why would your people do this?”

  Val turned towards Tanira, then stopped as if he heard something. His crystal began to pulse brighter.

  “We must go,” he said. “There are more of the eels on the hunt.”

  Nima looked up and down the stream, seeing nothing but the same trees and bushes that had been there before. A lone bird flew from one side of the wood, crossing the water towards the other.

  “Where?” she asked. “I do not see any.”

  “I do,” Valaen said, pointing to the shining light of crimson in his forehead. “In my mind. I can sense them. They may have left my father’s corpse here to attract more prey.”

  Tanira drew her second blade as she looked from left to right.

  “I have seen these beasts in the wood. I will not run from a battle with them.”

  “Can you protect us all?” Valaen said, glaring. “I count eight, though the pack may contain more. They are distant, but approaching.”

  “Eight?” Nima looked back at Tanira. “Your cave is not far from here. It would be safer.”

  Tanira moved the blades in her hands, as if she were balancing the options upon them. She then nodded.

  “A defensible fall back,” she said, walking out of the water. “I agree, Nima. Valaen, would you care to accompany us?”

  “Call me Val,” he said, following Nima as she led him towards the trail they had cut to reach the stream. “And I would thank you for the protection.”

  Nima walked forward through the thick wood, her eyes darting from left to right. The path was easy to follow, and she felt a bit safer knowing both Tanira and Val were with her.

  Her excitement was tinged with worry about the darkeels and concern for Val. She had met people from other worlds, but none who looked so different and exotic as this man.

  Yet his sadness and anger touched her. To lose a loved one, and to feel that his own people might not support him, she reasoned it would make him feel alone and lost.

  She pushed a wet branch out of her way as she followed the path back towards Tanira’s cave. Alone and lost. That might describe all three of them, but now perhaps none of them were alone anymore.

  Upon returning to Tanira’s cave, Nima was struck with how quickly Val seemed familiar with its contents. He walked past the wooden chairs and tables without commenting on them, peering into the deep shadows of the cavern’s interior.

  “I have been in this cave before,” Valaen said, seeing her surprised expression. “My father and I were here, during the last Tempest.”

  “No signs of the eels?” Nima said, pointing to her forehead. Val looked at her confused for a moment, then smiled. The red crystal above his eyes grew brighter for a moment, then dimmed. He shook his head.

  “They appear to have moved on. I can sense no sign of them now.”

  Nima breathed a sigh of relief. She had already seen enough of these darkeels, and there were many other questions she wanted to ask.

  “There were clear signs of prior habitation,” Tanira said, bringing her water canteen over and offering Valaen a drink. He took one, then pooled a small amount of water in his hands and ran them over his face. He passed the canteen to Nima.

  “What is the tempest, Val?” Nima asked, taking a drink. The water was warm and did little to cool her. “It sounds bad.”

  “It is neither good nor bad,” Valaen said. He ran his webbed hands across his pants, smoothing out wrinkles. “The Tempest is part of the natural order of things, we could not always live in the Calm. During the Tempest, fierce storms will come in from the sea, heralding the approach of a great wave. We will unmoor our dwellings from the mistwhales and retreat to caves such as this one. After it is safe again, we will return to the harbor and rebuild our hom
es, until the next Tempest.”

  Nima rubbed her hands together, nervously imagining what it might be like to have a wall of water racing at you, washing both houses and lives away.

  “There was a storm last night,” Nima said. “I watched it approach from higher on the mountain, near the summit. Does that mean this Tempest is coming?”

  Val shrugged. “Hard to be certain. There are many storms that do not foretell the coming of the Tempest. That is why we have the Scrye. The Elders will consult it after the storm to see if the Tempest is coming.”

  “You said your father had been kicked out of your village,” Nima said. “Exiled. By these Elders? Why would they do that?”

  Val took a deep breath, slowly releasing it as a sigh.

  “There is another race, people called the Thartark. They live on an island far from the harbor.”

  Nima glanced over at Tanira, sharing a look with her at Val’s mention of an island.

  “The Thartark,” Val continued. “They are smaller in number but much larger than us. For as long as I am aware of, we have . . . assisted them. Under duress we guide them through the forest, past the wild beasts that we can track, so they may access the mihya oil, a salve from a local tree they need to survive. We do this at great risk to the scout guiding them, the creatures of the Wood are many. Yet to not guide them is to risk their wrath.”

  Tanira spat on the ground, tracing the triangle symbol on her forehead after doing so.

  “It is for situations just as this that the Line was forged,” she said. “To live in subjugation to another is appalling. I take it your father did not approve of this arrangement?”

  “He did not, nor do I,” Val said. “Yet the people of Caenola are content with the arrangement. They accept it as the order of things, and they fear the Thartark and their reprisal should we resist. It is this fear, and my father’s loathing of it that I am sure led to his death.”

  “What do you think happened?” Nima asked.

  “Once a season the Thartark ships arrive with their ambassador. It is a small vessel, but we are told it is heavily loaded with their soldiers. The Thartark must cross the sea from their island in ships of wood, powered by wind and sail. The oil they seek, they do not need a large quantity of, but it spoils quickly. Especially in the hotter temperatures of their home. Therefore, they come to us each season for more.”

  “I have seen trees with thick sap,” Tanira said. “Sticky and sweet smelling. Is this the oil they seek?”

  Val nodded. “The mihya tree. Its oil protects their skin from the hot temperatures of their lands. Without it they would perish. They can find it nowhere else, but they fear the beasts that roam the forests. A Caenolan may be no threat to the Thartark, but the packs of darkeels, or herds of grun are another matter.”

  “But your people know how to fight these beasts?” Nima leaned in a bit closer.

  Val had sat back down by the entrance of the cave, facing the woods. She imagined Val and his people leading charges through the forests, men and women facing down fearsome giant beasts among the trees.

  “No,” Val said. “We are no match for them, no more than we are for the Thartark. We are not warriors. But we have an advantage.” He pointed to the crystal in his forehead, glowing dimly in the cave, the light casting pink shadows on the wall. “Properly trained, as my father and I have been, we can sense them. The creatures of the wood; the eels, the grun. We can guide the Thartark around their nests, their packs, their lairs. Safe passage, in return for our safety from them.”

  He stood, staring out of the cave and into the darkness of the wood.

  “This season, just seven days ago, it was my father’s task to guide the ambassador. As the two of them set out into the forest, I was nervous. I knew how strongly my father opposed our ‘arrangement’ with the Thartark. He has been calling for us to resist.”

  “Yes!” Tanira said, pounding her fist into her other hand with enthusiasm. “You should resist! You are many, as you say. You have numbers and something your enemy requires.” She was now standing on her feet, staring intently at Val.

  “No,” Val said. “We do not believe in violence, my father included. He feels--“ he stopped for a moment, catching himself. “He felt that we should simply refuse to help them. Force them to attack us, call them on their threat. ‘If they kill one, or kill ten, or a hundred. That is their choice. The choice we can make is to not help them.’“

  “If your people knew how your father felt, I am surprised they allowed him to guide the Thartark’s ambassador,” Nima said.

  “No one suspected he would do what he did,” Val said. “He was an Elder, and still respected despite his beliefs. He guided the ambassador past the beasts in the deep grass fields and led him up the river. He brought him to the grove of the oil trees and then, he left him there. My father walked back to the village on his own, leaving the Thartark to find his own way back.”

  “I am sure he did that to teach them,” Nima said. “Show these Thartark that they need you as much as you need them. To work together.”

  “The ambassador did not see it that way.” The crystal in his head glowed brighter. “Ah, how I wish my father had discussed his plan with me. Not that I disagreed with how he felt, but we could have considered the Thartark response better.”

  Val began to pace in front of the entrance of the cave, the light from the fire casting his shadow back into the depths of the chamber.

  “When the Thartark finally returned, he was two days overdue. He bore wounds and torn clothing, he was hungry and exhausted. Worst of all, he did not obtain any oil. I suspect he ran the moment he realized my father was no longer at his side.”

  “What did the Thartark do?” Nima watched Val as he spoke. As different as he looked, his passion for his people was as clear as any Sherpa’s.

  “My people, with the other Elders in the lead, they rushed out into the wild, caring nothing for the risk. They gathered the oil for the Thartark while the healers tended to the ambassador’s wounds. These actions did nothing to diminish his anger. He vowed the Thartark Chieftain would hear of this, that we would regret this transgression. He then went back to his ship and crossed the sea. The Elders expelled my father within hours.”

  “I am disappointed in your people’s reaction,” Tanira said. “Yet fear can be powerful. It can push a person into actions they would never otherwise consider.”

  “It is--it is in with the tide, as my grandsire would say. It will go out with the tide. I am unsure of what to do now.”

  He paused his pacing, placing his hands on his head and running them through his short, green hair. Nima noticed he had webbing between his fingers.

  He turned back towards them, pulling a chair closer and sitting upon it.

  “Now, I would like to know more of you both, if I may. I have never seen your like before. You look as I do, but your smooth skin and your strange hair. Your odd clothing. It is all most interesting.”

  Nima laughed at the thought that she would look just as unusual to Val as he did to her.

  “I’ve never seen anyone like you before either, Val.”

  “The Elders tell tales of your kind, of course. But I thought they were legends. Fables. Now, you say you are travelers. Where is it you have come from? How did you get here? Are you from beyond the mountain?”

  “We are,” Tanira said, speaking before Nima could. “We are from beyond the mountain.”

  “Tanira is a knight,” Nima said. “And I am assisting her. She is on a quest which for now has to be kept secret,” Nima added, immediately wondering if it had been right to do so.

  Nima supposed nothing she said was a lie. She had planned to tell Val of the portals and her time in the Under, but Tanira’s look gave her pause. It was not a hard or angry stare, but rather a pleading one, reminding Nima of the look her brother Pasang used to use, when he hoped she would not tell her mother of something he had done wrong. Perhaps it was part of Tanira’s need to protect her quest for
the Line.

  “I do not know what a knight is,” Val said. “But if it is anything like a warrior, I think at times my people could use one. I think some of us would fight back, if only we knew how. Tomorrow if I returned to Caenola there would be so much I would need to deal with. Ah, to tell mother of father’s death. She will grieve, she may even choose to stay during the next Tempest.”

  Nima watched the way Val’s eyes looked off into the woods, like he was looking for answers there. He sighed deeply.

  “Yet I must return. I broke the laws of the Elders by entering the Wood, but I had to find my father. Now that he is gone, I must confront them. In his name, and his memory. Even if I share his fate.”

  Val stood, stripping his pack off his back and dropping it to the ground. It landed with a thud, the top nearly bursting open. There was a dark emblem embossed upon it, a shape that looked to be an island.

  “Do you hear the weight of that pack? I was leaving Caenola not to find my father but to be with him. If he was cast out than so would I be. My mother has my love, but she accepts this order or at least tolerates it. How could I stay?”

  He slumped back down next to the pack, the light in his crystal dimming again.

  “Now he is dead. I go to face those who sentenced him to this fate, who would see our people forever trapped in this same cycle, nothing ever changing. Should I survive the journey.”

  Nima thought of all the beasts that might lie hidden between here and Val’s village, however far off it might be. Even with his ability to sense these monsters, how could he fight or run from them all?

  “Val,” Nima said. “I don’t think that is something you need to do alone.”

  Nima gave a look over to Tanira, hoping she might have the same connection with the woman she had forged with Drew Adley. Often Drew seemed to know what she was thinking. Of course they needed to help Val.

  Tanira was staring with intensity at Val’s discarded pack. She seemed to focus on something, her eyes narrowing.

  “My friend Nima is right,” Tanira said.