Fractured Everest Box Set

by D. H. Dunn

  “Upala, you can do this. I know you are nervous, we are all with you. Right, Merin?”

  Drew looked to Merin, half expecting a glare from her. If it was there, she hid it well.

  “All our hopes rest with you, my Lady,” she said. “You have my support for as long as it is needed.”

  Not exactly the pep talk I was hoping for, Drew thought. It would have to do.

  Upala looked over at Drew, using the same trick he had been and looking somewhat past him. He felt as one finger of hers gently rubbed up against his hand, only for a second, leaving a trail of electricity and desire behind.

  “I can do this,” she said. “Because of the strength you three give me. Trillip, please lead the way.”

  Upala was certain that through her long lifespan she had never seen so many people in one place. It had been rare for her to even be in the presence of two or three, and now there were hundreds of Rakhum, all the remaining people of Rogek Shad.

  Each one of them, looking at her.

  Gazing across the crowd Upala saw men and woman, children and elderly, most wearing clothing that was not repaired enough and with faces that were gaunter than they should be.

  Her people, she reminded herself.

  They were gathered around the town circle where a small wooden platform had been built in the middle. Upala had allowed Merin to lead her on top of it. This gave her a little height and distance, so she did not feel the press of the people as much, but in some ways the height was worse. It raised her up above the group she wanted to address, and even if it made her feel better to have the distance, this was no longer about her feeling better. She had spent centuries being treated like a god, she needed to break that herself.

  Stepping away from Merin and the protective aura that Drew always seemed to emanate, she walked to the border of the wooden stage and sat, dangling her feet over the edge. The crowd nearest the platform gave a murmur and stepped back.

  She beckoned them to return. “Please,” she said, trying to raise her voice so it would carry, but feeling even more self-conscious doing so. She was used to speaking at a whisper, and often went days without speaking at all. “Please all of you, come closer.”

  “Closer!” Harliss shouted from behind her on the stage, her voice hoarse but still commanding.

  “No!” Upala yelled back, quickly raising up her hands hoping to show she was not angry.

  Harliss stepped away from Upala, walking toward the rear of the stage, her eyes darting back and forth.

  “This is not a command,” Upala said to the crowd. “There will be no more commands from me, no more mandates. Come closer if you would like, it might make it easier for us to see and hear each other.”

  Several of the onlookers stepped closer to the stage, though many kept their distance and a few even moved farther back.

  She heard a few whispers and one cough, save for this the crowd stayed silent, all eyes still on her. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat.

  “I hope to come before you as a different person than the one you have known. It would be difficult to explain how and why I hope I have changed. In time, I will earn the right to give you all those answers, as I find them myself. What I can say is that this man and woman behind me--they are heroes. They brought me back from another world, a world my brother Kater consigned us both to.”

  Looking out over the crowd, she saw a few nods among the people but many more shaking heads. Merin’s name was whispered once or twice, as was Harliss’s. Most eyes were still angry as they looked at her, most arms folded in judgment.

  Keep going. She had earned every glare in this crowd, every look of mistrust or anger. If she were ever to gain anything else from them, she could not listen to voices inside her telling her to run.

  “These people, they gave me a second opportunity, and even for someone as long-lived as I, those do not come often. I will take that opportunity to commit to you--the rest of my existence will be to make right what I can, to repair that which I am able. For that which cannot be restored or saved, I will not ask your forgiveness for I do not give it to myself. I simply ask that you allow me this day to try and do better.”

  One man from the back stepped forward. His hands and clothes were dirtier than those around him, Upala noticing a small pickax tied to his belt. She wondered if he worked in one of the dig sites, pulling up old Manad Vhan relics and texts for her to study.

  “In my life you have never spoken. Now you speak, but still you only speak of yourself. What about the people who have been taken? My brother’s wife, my neighbor. Tell us not of how you have changed, tell us what you are going to do!”

  Several of the crowd murmured approval at this, many heads nodding. She saw more people coming closer to the stage, their apprehension lessening as their intensity seemed to increase.

  The fear was always there, always yammering at her. It may have been borne of dragons, but it had grown to something more. That panic wanted her to leave, wanted nothing more than to get her back to her library and her books and studies.

  Her hands yearned to fidget, but she kept them still.

  “Your anger is fair and deserved. As you say, these are only words. I will act. I will confront Garantika and I will demand the return of our people. I will not attack, but neither will I accept anything less than each person restored. His quarrel is with the Manad Vhan, with my brother and me. I will see his grievances heard and I will bring your husbands and wives, your sons and daughters home. I swear this to you, this pledge. From this day on, no Manad Vhan shall harm the people of Rogek Shad again.”

  She looked for a response from the crowd, not sure what to expect or what she might be hoping for. She saw the softening of a few of the eyes, yet most of the faces were still set in the same glares of mistrust and disbelief.

  I do not blame them, she thought to herself. I do not have the right to.

  Giving the crowd one last look, she stood and turned away from them. The stares she saw from the people of Rogek Shad were no less intense than before. Her heart pounded like she had never known, even if a dragon itself had landed in front of her she could not have felt more afraid.

  It did not matter. Her panic and her guilt were not relevant. These people who had sacrificed and suffered for generations required more of her than that.

  She looked at Drew and Merin, her determination powerful enough to stifle both her fear and desire.

  “Let us get to work.”

  Drew paced around the tent, looking up from the ground only often enough to avoid walking into the many poles that held the structure aloft. The shadows had deepened as the day progressed into the afternoon, the hours after Upala’s speech feeling like weeks.

  She was out there right now, walking the too empty streets of a city whose people seemed to hate and fear her as much as they did her brother. He longed to be with her, to provide comfort or some feeling of protection even. Yet she had said she needed to be alone, and he respected that.

  As Upala finally entered the large tent Drew was aware of her before he saw her, his skin seeming to pick up a stray element of electricity whenever she was nearby. To better stay focused, he avoided looking directly at her as she walked back to the rear of the tent where he was gathered with Trillip and Merin.

  The large structure was abandoned now, save for the four of them as Trillip and Merin had been going over their last-minute preparations.

  “And you are sure your sister does not mind, Trillip?” Merin was asking. His older sister had come by after Upala’s speech. The woman had given no indication what she thought of the talk, but she had agreed to take in Merin’s children until they returned.

  “Not at all!” Trillip said, smiling. “I am sure she will be glad for Arix’s help with her own boys!”

  Merin paused, then pulled the tall man in for an embrace. Trillip slowly returned the gesture, giving Drew a somewhat bewildered look as he did so. After a moment, Merin released him.

  “Come,” she sa
id. “I would like to see them again before they go with your sister, and we can see what supplies we can gather for ourselves.”

  Merin gave Drew and Upala a nod, and she and Trillip walked toward the entrance to the tent.

  “No weapons!” he called after her. “Remember, this is a battle of hearts and minds.”

  Merin gave him a wave as she walked off, Drew unsure of how to interpret it.

  “They do so much, risk so much,” Upala’s voice, music in his ear.

  He turned and was caught off guard. Her face was too close and her body too near.

  “It’s . . .” He paused, his eyes helpless as he took in the sight of her, the dark eyes and olive skin, the beautiful smile that was hiding her concerns. Her strength and resolve underneath.

  Focus was becoming impossible. “People see something wrong, they try to help fight against it. They want to make things right.”

  Her hands took his, they were warm even in the cool air of the valley. Her fingers enfolded around his own as she pulled him closer. Her chest pushed into his as her arms went around his neck.

  “This is not a good time for this,” she said. Her lips were nearly on his, his willpower melting against her heat. “Yet I cannot resist it.”

  The last of his determination eroding, Drew closed his eyes and leaned into her, kissing her with a fervor he had not known he possessed. His arms held her tightly as she matched his intensity with her own, her body seeming to heat the very air around him.

  The mission to Nalam Wast faded away, as did Merin and Trillip, concerns and worries. They were all gone, if they had ever existed at all.

  Drew felt as though he were falling, dropped from a great height into something warm, safe, and encompassing. Like a vast sea of acceptance and love, a place where he could just allow himself to slip beneath the waves of Upala’s passion and finally release the air of his guilt into the water.

  He would move her now, they would move together to a table, a bench, the floor. It did not matter, nothing mattered except the fire of the moment. Drew sought to move his hand from her back and guide her to the table, but he found his hand could barely move, feeling as if it were stuck in tar.

  He opened his eyes to a sight his mind struggled to process.

  He was too close to her, her face nearer to him than was physically possible. Her own eyes were closed, Upala lost in the moment as Drew had been. He could not move his head, glancing down he could barely see his hand on Upala’s waist, it was sunken into her nearly to the wrist, seeming to dissolve as it came into contact with her, like ice placed on an open flame.

  Fear pushed its way on to the stage of his desire, the realization coming that he was melting into her.

  Mustering his strength and allowing his terror to control him, he managed to pull away from her, his limbs and face separating from her being with a slow and audible sound, like a candle being snuffed out.

  Drew collapsed, knocking several chairs over as he did. Upala simply stood there, seeming dazed for a moment before she finally reacted, her eyes opening wide as she knelt.

  “Drew!” she cried. “By the Hero, what has happened?” The fear was obvious on her face, in the trembling of her hand as she reached out to him.

  Drew’s mind was fighting conflicting impulses to run and to return to her embrace, the passion already building inside him again.

  He scrambled away from her, turning around to take the beauty of her visage out of his vision. Slowly he pushed himself to his feet, checking his hands and fingers to make sure they were still all there. Those same hands and fingers, his entire body still yearned for her. A longing for his own destruction.

  What was happening to them?

  “What the hell was that?” He looked around the tent, time had not seemed to mean much in the fugue he had entered with her. The daylight level seemed the same and the tent was still empty.

  “I do not know, Drew. The rasi sakta, I would guess,” Upala’s said, her words whispered. She had turned away from him as well. Her voice was still a trigger, but it was not as strong as the sight of her or the proximity. “I wish I had time to find out more of this, to research it further. When these dealings are over, we will learn the truth.”

  “I felt like I was . . . melting into you,” Drew said, more harshly than he meant to. He felt shame at the horror that was crept into his voice.

  He took a deep breath, trying to settle the pounding of his heart. She sounded just as scared as he did, but she was right. This was not the time. “As you say, we have a job to do.”

  He wanted more than anything to be able to look at her, but now he had only his voice to make sure he conveyed how he felt.

  “I don’t blame you for this, Upala. When this is over, we will work this out. For now, we will just have to work together to not lose control like this. You can’t afford the distraction. You need to focus on what’s ahead of you.”

  There was a long pause, long enough that Drew wondered if she was still there. Outside the tent, there was little sound but the wind. The people of Rogek Shad had returned to their homes, hoping their god and her friends would restore their families to them.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice now having the same strength to it that he had heard on the stage. Upala learning how to lead, a journey he himself had tried in the Navy. Tried and failed. “If nothing else, I am glad we were able to have one last kiss. I am grateful for all you have done for me Drew, all you have opened my eyes to see. Go with luck, and my love.”

  Love?

  Drew ran the word through his mind, a word he had once resigned himself no woman would ever say to him. Now uttered by someone whose very touch might destroy him.

  He turned, intending to stop her before she left, to offer the same sentiment. He would tell her that he loved her, not let her to go off against Garantika alone without knowing how he felt.

  Upala was already gone.

  Chapter 11

  “I warned your father about this!” Val’s mother said as they entered her hut. Nima followed in behind Val, the wooden platform the structure was upon swaying under her feet.

  Nima noted that Kelzin’s hut was smaller than the one used by the council, containing little more than a bed and two small stools, one of which had a leg that was too short. The stool wobbled with each movement of the sea underneath them, reminding Nima how far from land she was.

  She watched Val pace back and forth across the shifting floor. What would become of him now? Why was he just accepting this council?

  Her hands twitched with nervous energy. They needed to do something.

  “If father were here--” Val began, eliciting a sob from Kelzin. “Oh, mother. I am sorry.”

  “Ah, Oli. The waves protect his spirit,” she said, pulling a stool over and sitting upon it. “Many good years he and I had, Valaen, but many arguments as well.”

  “I know mother,” Val said quietly. “It was one of the reasons I moved out.”

  “Should’ve moved out before that,” his mother shot back. “You should be mated with a clutch by now. Why you turned down the mating last season I will never know.”

  “Mother,” Val said, holding up his hand. “Not now.”

  “No, not now. Even speaking of your father is not now. Now is about what to do.”

  “What he should do is go get the Scrye back.” Nima regretted speaking her ideas out loud as soon the old woman’s dark eyes swung toward her. She tried to stammer out an explanation. “I mean . . . that is why they are upset with him. The High Elder I mean.”

  “I agree with Nima,” Tanira added, pounding one hand into her fist. “Your son’s best path is to create his own hope, not to wait for others to save or forgive him.”

  “Oh, is that what you two think?” The old woman looked at them both. “We are certainly fortunate to have such scholars of our people to give out advice and counsel and . . .” Kelzin trailed off, her eyes fixed on Nima.

  “What has happened to your arm, girl?”


  Nima looked down at her right forearm, where the yak-thing had clawed her in their flight through the forest. It still stung, but was starting to scab over.

  “Nothing, ma’am,” Nima said. “We ran into a yak? No, a grun. In the forest. I got a bit too close and--”

  The woman surprised Nima by standing from her stool, crossing the room in two long strides.

  “Nothing,” she said with a laugh. “I know about you tough types and nothing. Nothing until it festers, nothing until it bubbles from not being cleaned. Val, go to the beach and find me some kelpmoss. I have got a bit left, but I might need more.”

  Nima blinked back at Kelzin, confused. In the far corner of the tent, Val stood there with Tanira next to him. Neither of them moved either, all staring back.

  Val’s mother left Nima for a moment, rummaging in a chest from the corner. When she turned around seconds later, green clumps of growth in both hands, she gaped at her unmoving son.

  “Valaen a Ola, what are you just standing there for? I’m still a healer in this village, and you are not expelled yet, you know. Take that ox of a woman there with you, I do not know where she came from but if there are spike crabs on the beach she can help keep you safe.”

  Val looked at Tanira, who smiled and gave a shrug. He gestured to the door, and the pair vanished into the evening.

  Kelzin worked the green substance into some cloth, adding what looked to Nima like two different pails of water to the binding.

  “You need fresh and ocean water for the kelpmoss to unlock,” she explained. “Only grows in salt marshes like those nearby. When I place this compress on your arm, the pain will increase for a moment.”

  Nima hissed air into her teeth as the Caenolan woman covered her forearm with the gooey creation, her skin feeling like it had been set on fire. While intense, the sensation was temporary and after a moment, a cooling wave seemed to course up and down her arm where the cloth and moss paste had contact.