Fractured Everest Box Set

by D. H. Dunn

  Val’s mother released his embrace, and he moved to the center of the tent.

  “This is Nima and Tanira,” Val said, indicating them. “They are visitors from a far-off land. Travelers.”

  Val then stepped aside, identifying the aged man to Nima and Tanira.

  “This is our High Elder, Chantez,” Val said. He then lowered his head towards the elderly woman he had embraced. “And she who is my mother, Kelzin.”

  Nima bowed, Tanira following the action.

  “I am a follower of the Line, good sir,” Tanira said, then glanced at Nima. “A knight. Versed in combat and tactics. I am at your disposal.”

  “And you, smaller one?” Chantez looked at Nima, the dark eyes squinting even further. “Do you also have a title?”

  “I am, uhm,” Nima stammered. “I am a climber. A climber of Everest.” She shuffled her feet, looking at the floor. She was surprised when she heard the High Elder’s gasp. He turned to Val’s mother.

  “Did she say Varesta? The great mountain?” he asked her. Nima could now see a brighter light forming on the old man’s crystal, a light shade of orange.

  “I did find them on the great mountain,” Val put forward. “I believe Everest is their name for it.”

  The old man coughed, taking a moment to pull some water from a pouch at his belt.

  “Fascinating,” he said. He then held up a hand to Yanare, who was staring in his direction. “But a matter for another time, as our new mid-Elder no doubt seeks to remind me.”

  Yanare fidgeted in her seat, her expression one of displeasure. Chantez turned to Val.

  “Valaen, you see the three empty seats in this tent. We have lost one mid-Elder and two Elders, including your father. Thus, the decision on how to respond to this will fall to me alone, with the counsel of our remaining mid-Elders Yanare and Juniraz. Your mother is here as an honor to your father.”

  “What are you here to decide?” Nima asked, blushing as the old man’s eyes turned back to her. “I am sorry. I know it is not my place to speak here but if this is about Val, he wasn’t even here for the attack. This couldn’t be his fault.”

  “That is a matter of opinion,” Yanare said.

  “Fault?” Chantez said. “There is much fault here, the first measure of it belonging to Valaen’s father I am afraid.”

  Val’s mother Kelzin let out a small whimper at this, lowering her gaze to the floor. Yanare nodded with enthusiasm.

  “That is outrageous!” Val said, stepping towards the Elders, his crystal glowing with intensity. “It was the Thartark who attacked us! Not my father! Even if his actions with their emissary went against your wishes it was the Thartark’s choice to bring this upon us.”

  “To cow and allow another to subjugate you is both folly and cowardice.” Tanira said from behind Val. “It is just and right to stand up. To defend yourselves!”

  Nima could hear the passion rising in the woman’s voice, her breathing growing heavier.

  “We do not need the council of a stranger,” Yanare said. “You know nothing of us or our world.”

  “I know herd animals when I see them,” Tanira muttered.

  “Enough,” Chantez said. “The Thartark have visited us for seasons untold, the cycle between us and them is as ancient and pure as the tides. Each generation contains a few, such as you, Valaen, who feel we are being unfairly treated, that our lot could be more--”

  “Tanira is right, as was my father,” Val said, his tone low and angry. “We are being subjugated.”

  “Silence.” Chantez glared at Val. “Prior to this morning, perhaps that opinion could be tolerated. Others have had these views before, but none before your father had acted upon them. His action has broken the cycle between us and the Thartark, leading to this death and destruction.”

  “And this may only be the beginning,” Yanare added, raising her arms to the ceiling. “With the Scrye gone, there is no telling of the damage.”

  “No telling,” Chantez echoed, nodding. “That is an apt phrase. We have no path forward, no wake to follow. In all our long history, no precedent.”

  “Can’t you just go after the Thartark?” Nima asked. “Get this Scrye thing back from them?”

  Tanira nodded. “Your cycle being broken is a good thing. It is an opportunity!”

  “Perhaps your father knew these two strangers of yours too?” Yanare asked. “Perhaps this is why he has broken the cycle, this is where those ideas came from? Perhaps these two are to blame?”

  Nima took a step back. How could they blame me and Tanira? We weren’t even here! The air in the tent began to feel warmer, thick with humidity.

  “There is no way of knowing that, Yanare,” Chantez said, holding his hand up. “The punishment is decided already. The decision is made.”

  Val lowered his head at this pronouncement, his mother weeping again.

  “There will be no further provocation of the Thartark, Climber Nima. Perhaps these actions make sense on the world of you and your friend, but they sail against the tide here. If we acquire more mihya oil, the Thartark may return with the Scrye and we can attempt to renew our relationship.”

  “High Elder,” Yanare said. “You heard their Emissary. They have found a new source of the oil. They have no reason to return to us for it.”

  “A likely claim,” Tanira interrupted. “How do you know this is true? Do you have proof?”

  “No further discussion,” Chantez said, power creeping into the corners of his old voice. “This argument is for another time. The punishment is at hand.” The high elder let go of his chair, forcing himself fully upright. Nima could hear what sounded like the cracking of several bones as he did so.

  “Valaen a Ola, it is my judgment that you be banished from Caenola, effective at first light tomorrow. Let you give no Caenolan your words from that point, as none will give them to you.”

  “High Elder, please.” Val shook with emotion as he spoke. “You cannot--”

  “You are correct, Valaen,” Chantez said, sitting back down and letting a sigh whistle past his teeth. “I cannot. I cannot let this go unaddressed. I cannot allow the Thartark to be further antagonized. I cannot allow these ideas of yours to spread. Like ink in the water, there will be no containing them.”

  Chantez pointed one hand at Nima and Tanira. “The banishment applies to you as well, strangers. We have no need of Knights or Climbers here. You may accompany Valaen to his tent for the evening, but when the sun strikes the water in the morn, I expect all of you to be gone from Caenola. This council is over.”

  Val pounded the thin wooden railing that had been lashed together outside his mother’s hut in frustration. Beneath his feet, the wooden platform they stood upon rocked back and forth with the movement of the ocean, but he found no comfort in it. Not even the gentle sway of the sea could ease the storm in his heart.

  His mother was inside her hut now, resting after the emotional ordeal of the High Elder’s council. The small structure had been mostly spared by the Thartark attack, with the exterior hides showing only slight singe marks from the fires that had burned there the night before.

  She still had her home, but now that was about all she had left. His anger grew further, the vision above his eyes tinged red with the intensity of his head crystal’s glare.

  “What do you do now?” Nima’s voice, a bit behind him, soft and respectful. For a moment, he had forgotten Nima and Tanira were still with him, his mind overrun with the destruction all around him and the uncertainty that lie ahead.

  “I do not know, Nima.” He turned, placing his back against the railing. Nima stood close by, her eyes brimming with her concern. Slightly farther away, Tanira had one hand on her weapon’s hilt as she looked back and forth, as if she expected an attack from the sea.

  “I’ve been order exiled by dawn, so I guess I need to get ready for that. Pack what supplies I can carry.” He paused, looking at the hut a few paces away. “Say farewell to my mother.”

  “Val, that
’s crazy,” Nima said. “Living in the wood? You’d never survive out there!”

  He nodded.

  “If my father could not, I don’t know what chance I’d have. Yet I do not have much choice.”

  Tanira took a step closer, her brows furrowing.

  “It is that type of thinking that put your people in this position, Val. There is always the choice to act.”

  He advanced towards her, knowing his anger at her was misdirected, yet unable to reign in his emotions.

  “I know that!” He thrust his hand towards the shore, pointing at the far-off woods. “I acted last night, going into the wood against the wishes of the Elders to search for my father. Look where that got me!”

  Nima stepped between Val and Tanira, her hands spread as she looked up at the taller woman.

  “Tanira, I know you mean well.”

  “Valaen,” Tanira continued, as if she had not heard Nima. “Do not surrender because you have encountered adversity. Good roads can have challenging beginnings. There can be … difficult costs.”

  “No.” Val shook his head. “I am not … whatever you are, Tanira. A knight. I’m not ready to pay your difficult costs.”

  “I would say you already have,” Tanira said. “The question is, will you turn back now?”

  Part of Val wanted to charge at the woman. Does she not see what is around her? How much worse do I want to make this? Yet he saw the passion in her eyes, reminded himself she was speaking from personal experience.

  From what little she had told them, her people had already lost. Her words might cut like coral, but perhaps that was because they were sharp.

  “Val,” Nima placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it for a moment before releasing. “We’re here for you. Whatever you choose to do, we’ll be here with you.”

  He looked into her brown eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity within them. As crazy as her words sounded, she meant them.

  The wind brought the acrid taste of smoke into his lungs, the ashes and cinders of his people’s homes. A reminder that there was much more at stake here than what he might decide about his exile.

  The Thartark had not just attacked their village, they had taken the Scrye, dooming his people to live without the knowledge of the next Tempest.

  And they said they would return.

  “What I do doesn’t matter anyway.” He turned back to face the sea, the rolling of the waves endless. No matter what happened, they would be the same.

  “But the Thartark,” Nima came to stand next to him, her hands on the railing. “What can be done?”

  “They are Caenola’s problem, and what Caenola does isn’t up to me anymore.”

  “Maybe.” Nima gazed out across the ocean, her arms folded as she leaned on the railing. “But there just has to be something you can do, Val. Something besides giving up.”

  Val turned away from the railing, away from the sea.

  “I don’t know, Nima. Taking action, doing something? It has not worked out well for me, for my father, or my people. Maybe I have done enough.”

  In front of him was the hut of his family, filled with memories of so many years of talks, of arguments and reconciliations. Like so many things in Caenola, the cycle of their life never really changing.

  Until now.

  Now that hut would only house his mother, the last member of her family permitted inside a destroyed village, with an ever-uncertain future.

  She was inside, as were conversations he didn’t want to have. Decisions he didn’t want to make, but waiting outside wasn’t going to make them any easier.

  Stepping forward, he pushed the flap of the hut aside. Inside the low light of the interior, his mother’s old eyes, damp from tears, looking up from where she sat mourning.

  Taking a deep breath, he entered his family’s home one last time. It didn’t feel like an action or a choice. It felt like surrender.

  Chapter 10

  The path down Ish Rav Partha was well worn, and followed a route Drew was familiar with. A carved and roped path had been worked around the glacier that flowed down the lower sections of the mountain, which Drew found a relief.

  He had no desire to walk through this world’s version of the Khumbu Icefall. The path wound close to the stone and snow of the lower foothills, obscuring their view of the village.

  Trillip and Merin walked ahead along with Merin’s children. Her daughter Arix had hung back with them for a time, Drew regaling her with stories of his time in the Under.

  For most of the journey down the lower reaches of the mountain though, he and Upala had walked alone. She had said little to him, and had been silent for so long that when she finally spoke it startled him out of his thoughts.

  “Drew, I think we should speak of what I have been researching.”

  Here it comes, he thought. He hadn’t wanted to ask her what she had found, her mood had seemed sullen since they left the lower library. Of course, there were plenty of reasons for her to be anxious that had nothing to do with what was going on with them.

  “Of course,” he said. “I figured you would when you were ready. Looking at your expression, I’m guessing it’s probably not good news.”

  Up until now, Upala had kept her distance from him since they had departed. He still caught her gazing at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, only to turn away. He’d then study the beauty of her face or admire the subtle curves under her climbing clothes, his bigger questions and concerns fading into the background whenever she was in sight.

  “Regarding your healing, I still have not found anything. It could be a natural effect caused by someone from your world entering this one. As Sinar said, your world is nearly mythical to us. Perhaps you being from Earth is a factor.”

  Drew nodded. That would explain why he had been affected, but not Merin.

  “Either way,” she continued. “It seems similar to Manad Vhan healing, but it may not be completely the same. I am sorry, but I think we will need to study it together over time.”

  “Okay,” Drew said, absently rubbing the scar on his forearm. No answers there, which was frustrating. This healing power had the danger of being something he might depend on. He didn’t want to count on something he didn’t understand. “Well, thanks for looking into it. I get the sense there’s more you need to tell me.”

  “I do not wish to keep things from you, Drew.” He noticed her pace was slowing a bit, as if she wanted to make sure Merin and the others were out of earshot. He matched her stride and took her hand. He thought she might flinch away, but she did not. Even through the gloves they wore, he could sense the heat of her skin underneath them, the pulse of her heart running through her veins.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything you are not ready to.” His own breathing had quickened, her proximity bringing a stirring inside him.

  “No, it is only fair. You feel the passion running through you even now, as I do? I find it hard to concentrate when you are near. At times the distraction is manageable. At other times . . .” She leaned in, her lips nearing his. His arms wanted to wrap around her waist and pull her in for an embrace, but he stepped back, turning away.

  “Yes.” He found his breathing heavy, and her olive face still danced before his eyes like an afterimage. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes. I have, uh... noticed that. I thought it might be just me. Do you know what it is?”

  “Yes,” she sighed. “On this I have been more successful. I was able to confirm the theory I spoke of you before. The Manad Vhan term for this condition is ‘rasi sakta,’ which translates to ‘curse of the animals.’”

  His pulse quickened at the mention of the term and its translation. A curse sounded about right, whatever was happening to him felt far beyond normal infatuation.

  “So, this rasi sakta is forcing us to be in love with each other?”

  “Not exactly,” Upala said. “As I understand it, the curse affects our baser desires. The emphasis is more on the physical.”

&n
bsp; He sighed, feeling a small spark of irritation. Upala mentioned she was familiar with the term, even if she did not know much about it until she studied further. If this came as a result of sleeping with her, shouldn’t she have told him?

  “Well, at least I know more than I did yesterday. I was worried I was losing my mind, or turning back into a teenager. At least you know what we are dealing with.”

  One look at her face and his irritation was snuffed out, the sight of her features lighting a new flame of desire inside him.

  “Drew, I urge you to believe me. I had no idea this would happen, I considered the rasi sakta to be just a myth and not the myths I was concerned with.”

  He looked into her eyes, seeing the weariness that mixed with the concern there. She looked exhausted, near as he could tell, she had done nothing but research these questions since Sinar had attacked him.

  “I believe you, Upala. Of course. Whatever else you know about it, tell me. At least I can help you try to understand it then.”

  Upala took a deep breath, nodding.

  “In short, it is a curse that comes upon Manad Vhan if they become emotionally involved and intimate with a Rakhum. The different energies of the two races are not compatible. To be concise, our spirits lack the understanding of each other’s natures. The longevity of my lifespan and the short, vibrant potency of yours, our minds and bodies will become increasingly fixated upon it. Upon each other.”

  Drew bit the inside of his lip, mulling this over. It certainly made sense, as much as any of this made sense. If it were not becoming such an issue already, it might even be funny. He had traveled to another world, only to catch some sort of magical venereal disease.

  “That certainly does sound like what I am going through. How far will this go, what does it lead to? Could it be fatal?”

  ”I am still researching,” she said, patting the satchel slung over her shoulder. “The texts are unclear with the details, though there is mention of physical danger. It is possible it will stabilize, I cannot say. I can promise that I will not stop working on it, and I had no idea that...”