Fractured Everest Box Set

by D. H. Dunn

  “That’s . . . that feels better. Thank you.”

  “Grun,” she said, shaking her head. “Their claws can bring infection,” Kelzin said. “Val should have told you that, as I have told him many times. Though he frustrates me often, he is a good man, just as his father was.”

  “I am sorry,” Nima said. “Your loss, to lose your husband like that. In my world it is not uncommon for a woman to see the man leave home, only to hear he will not return.”

  “Just as common here, I am afraid,” the old woman said. “We do not lose people to the Thartark, not until last night, but there are so many other dangers. The sea can be hostile to our men and women who fish and shell, waves that swallow them up. Packs of finteeth that set upon the whales. Spooked grun in the forest. I have lived so long, seen so many lost.”

  The woman kept one hand on Nima’s arm holding the compress in place, as she moved the other to her face. She began to softly weep. Nima placed her good hand on Kelzin’s shoulder. With her fiery disposition but big heart, she reminded Nima less of her own mother and more of Dorjee, the old Sherpa woman who ran the tent back in Gorak Shep.

  “Oh, I am sorry,” the woman said. “Oh, to lose him! My Oli, my sun who rises over the sea. I was supposed to go first, I was not supposed to be alone.”

  “It’s all right,” Nima said. She recalled her father saying similar things when Ama had died, even if she could not understand. It was as if he were more afraid of being alone than he had been of her.

  “We fought,” she sobbed. “We disagreed, but we always loved. I never thought it would come to this end. Now there is only Val to remember him by.”

  The woman took Nima’s hand in her own, the gnarled, webbed fingers gripping her with surprising strength. Val’s mother looked into Nima’s eyes, the crystal on her head weakly gaining a blue glow.

  “You and your friend. You are strong, warriors from this other world.” Her voice was faint and cracked.

  “I am no warrior, just a climber who--”

  “You are strong! I can see it in your eyes, I need no crystal to see your strength. I need you to keep him safe, help him find his path. His heart is great, just like his father’s. Mayhap it will lead him to his end, but it may lead him to the shores he is destined to walk. Stay with him, if you are his friend. Help him find his way.”

  Nima sat in the corner of the small tent, feeling the wooden floor rock with the movement of the ocean tides. Her belly was full of the strange evening meal Valaen’s mother had cooked for them before leaving, explaining she need to walk the beach and mourn.

  Nima absently drummed her fingers as she looked at Tanira sitting across from her, where the knight gazed out at the sea.

  Since they had returned to the hut Tanira done little but sit on the small cot, tracing the triangle on her forehead while chanting and looking at the ocean.

  “Guard the Line,” she repeated in a soft voice. “Honor the Line. Trust the Line.” Tanira gaze was filled with intensity as if she were searching the sea for some answer that eluded her.

  Nima supposed she was fascinated by the ocean as well, but she had no desire to simply stand there and look at it.

  Nima needed to move. She didn’t understand how the others could just be sitting there, or standing there in Val’s case. Things had gone wrong, yes, this Scrye had been taken and Val had been exiled, but that was no reason to quit. The summit was not out of reach, it was foolish to turn back.

  “Val,” Nima said, breaking the silence. Tanira stirred, turning from the window. “Tell me again why your people will not fight. What are their options if they do not?”

  “My people have no knowledge of combat,” Val said. “I have told you this. You and Tanira might be able to conquer us, for all the resistance we will put up.”

  “If we conquer you,” Tanira said from her place on the cot. “Can we then order you to fight? Nima is right, skills or not, your people cannot simply allow the Thartark to do this.”

  “You think I do not want to do something?” Val’s voice began to raise as the crystal on his forehead flared into life. “The elders will meet tomorrow, to discuss the options you want to know about, Nima. As I see it, they have three. Collect as much oil as possible and hope the Thartark come back. We could then attempt to appease them, and mayhap they will return the Scrye.”

  “Continue to live on your belly,” Nima said, feeling frustrated. This would be no better than her own village had done against Jang back in Nepal. If not for herself and Drew, her people might still be under that man’s thumb.

  “You asked for the options,” Val said. “Second, they could choose to flee the village to the hills, wait for the next Tempest. When the Calm sets in again, maybe they can return. The Scrye will still be gone though, so that is just a delaying action.”

  “The third?” Tanira asked. She now had her hands behind her head.

  “Stay here and wait for the Tempest. Simply let the great wave take them.”

  Nima stood, holding on to the wall to keep her balance against the swaying of the floor.

  “Your people would actually consider that?”

  “I do not know.” Val began to pace across the small space, his footing sure. “They might. There are some who feel that by opposing the Thartark, we have upset the natural order of things. They might see that as our penance.”

  “That makes no sense,” Nima said.

  “I believe this,” Tanira replied. She had taken out one of her long, thin knives and was tossing it in the air and catching it. “People can be led into the most foolish of choices, all the while thinking themselves righteous. I suspect some of your people might have second thoughts when that wave was crashing down on them.”

  “What does it matter?” Val pounded the wall with his hand. “It is done. The village has been attacked, people and whales killed. The Scrye taken, and the name of my family at the blame of it all. It is done.”

  Nima frowned. There was an answer here, there was always a solution. Sometimes the heroes of the stories ran into problems but figuring out the solution was part of what made them heroes.

  She looked out of the small window that had been cut like a flap into the side of the tent. The ocean air blew back at her, bringing the scents of salt and the view of far off places to her mind. Somewhere out there was the Scrye, and if the Scrye was not gone, Val’s people would not be so angry with him.

  Nima walked over to Val, an idea coming to her suddenly like a rock falling from the sky.

  “Val, you said the Thartark live on an island. How far off is that island? Do you know how to get there?”

  Tanira sat up. Nima watched as her eyes went from Val to her, then back to the drawing of an island on Val’s pack.

  “It is a few days by mistwhale,” he said. “It takes the Thartark ships longer due to their reliance on the winds. I have heard it is the only island directly to the east, just over the horizon from us. Some of the fishers have seen it, the ones who sailed too far from our shore.”

  “Why do you ask, Nima?” Tanira stood, spinning one knife in her hand. “What are you thinking?”

  “She is thinking madness,” Val said. “I already explained we cannot fight the Thartark. Even if you and Tanira have combat training, the rest of us do not. You have not seen the Thartark. They are twice our size!”

  Nima shook her head. “There’s more options here than violence or giving up, Val.”

  Walking over, she put one hand on Val’s shoulder, smiling as she looked into his dark eyes. ”I am not thinking of fighting them, Val. I am thinking of robbing them.”

  Chapter 12

  As the sky moved toward sunset, Drew kept his head low, below the level of the stone wall blocking the view of Nalam Wast on the other side of the Umbuk river.

  The wall’s height was variable as it followed the Umbuk river’s path, sometimes lower than his head and at other points as high as ten feet

  In a few rushed glimpses over the wall he could see Nalam Wa
st on the other side of the river. Square stone buildings lined up in even rows, small tufts of smoke coming from cooking fires. He frowned at the comparison to Rogek Shad.

  The people of Nalam Wast had warmth and shelter, they were organized, structured, and protected. All they had to do to deserve that life was whatever Kater wanted from them.

  Kater was dead now, though, Drew reminded himself. So, what did that mean for Nalam Wast?

  At times he had to crawl on the uneven terrain to make sure his head was not visible. Harliss had been able to get a few lookouts to confirm the number of soldiers lining the Nalam Wast side of the river was few, but it only took one arrow.

  Or would it?

  Drew had no idea what would happen if an arrow pierced his skull, but he had come back from an arm being shoved through his chest better than expected. It was the unknown that was frustrating, not knowing the strength of this new deck underneath his feet. He might come to depend on it, only to have it give out from under him.

  “How much farther?” Drew whispered back to Trillip, who was following him at such a close distance that the man had bumped into him more than once.

  Drew’s time in the Navy had done little to teach him covert operations, but it was clear Trillip had never even snuck out of his parent’s house on a school night.

  “A distance still,” Trillip whispered back. His eyes darted back to the wall, while he clamped his hands together.

  Drew was thankful Trillip at least had the sense to keep his voice down. Whatever his shortcomings might be as a commando, he was here and putting his life on the line. That counted for a lot.

  With any luck, Drew hoped his guess about Garantika would be right and neither Merin or Trillip would be in any real danger. Kater’s general shouldn’t be expecting a surprise attack from behind, not from the peaceful people of Rogek Shad. Whatever forces Garantika had, they should be on the bridge to defend from the real threat and target, Upala.

  He shuddered from the chill that thinking of their plan sent through him. Using Upala as the bait, the diversion. She was supposed to be invulnerable, her Manad Vhan healing would protect her from any harm.

  Yet Garantika knew that too, and he still was trying to lure her out.

  “There is a small grove of trees not far from here,” Trillip said, interrupting Drew’s thoughts. “We can stop there to get a look ahead.”

  “Fair enough.” Drew continued on, taking a quick look over his shoulder past Trillip to check on Merin. He was glad she was here, even as he worried about the danger she was putting herself in. Merin, at least, he had seen under pressure. As much as she seemed to be missing Kad, when the action kicked up in the Under it had been Merin who often took the lead.

  Like a child that kept defying his parent, his mind crept back to Upala. He thought of her alone on the bridge, facing down whatever plan this Garantika had for her. He had reassured her that since a Rakhum could not injure her, she was in no real danger. That was no longer how it felt to Drew, even if it was probably true.

  Then there was what happened during their kiss. He could still feel the strange connection with her, his flesh actually melting into hers for a moment. The sensation, even if it had lasted only a second, was of his mind slipping off its mooring and sliding into her. Like an unsecured crate on the deck of a ship in a storm, he worried of falling into her like the sea.

  Even more troublesome was how much he wanted, even needed, to touch her again despite the danger. The power of the rasi sakta seemed to be growing despite every effort he could muster.

  The path Drew crept along turned a corner and Drew found himself in the midst of dozens of large trees, a small island of green in the browns and greys of the valley. The broad trunks of oaks pushed up through the cold dirt, their roots stretching toward the nearby river.

  The copse was deep and dense, the perfect place to hide from eyes across the river until they were ready. Just as Trillip had said.

  Drew leaned against the farthest tree, peeking around the trunk and across the swift waters. Trillip arrived a bit more noisily than Drew would have liked a few moments later, though the two shadowed guards Drew could see on the wall across the river gave no reaction.

  He watched the men walk back and forth, one disappearing down into a lower section for a time, then the other. Neither seemed to be terribly alert, and the period when both could not see the river was predictable.

  “We must be pretty close to this gulley of yours Trillip, because there seem to be more guards on this section of the wall. I think I have their rotation worked out, if we wait here about five minutes, there should be a window where we can make a break for it.”

  “Does ‘make a break for it’ mean run?” Trillip asked, earning a shoulder shrug from Merin. She was crouched against one of the trees, biting into a fruit she had picked from its branches. Drew chuckled.

  “It does, Trillip. I’m sorry I use a lot of phrases from my world, but you both seem to keep up pretty well.”

  Drew allowed his back to slide down the rough bark of the tree, sitting on the grass and looking out over the vast, empty plains with the mountains in the distance. He glanced back at his companions, two Rakhum who had been, at best, underappreciated by Upala in the past. Two vulnerable people with no sudden healing powers and little combat training. Yet they were right there with him.

  It was both inspiring and humbling.

  “You sure you want to come with us, Trillip? I mean, we couldn’t have found this gulley without you, but if the pens are as close as you say, Merin and I should be able to find them.”

  “I know I seem little more than a messenger, but I cannot sit back and let others fight this for me. I have friends, on both sides of this wall. That is why I do this, to prove to Rakhum on both sides that reunification is worth fighting for.”

  Drew nodded, thinking back to his own decision to enlist in the military. He had signed up several months before Pearl Harbor, long before America had entered what many of his friends had considered Europe’s war.

  He didn’t have to go, but he did have to go. He couldn’t just stand by. At the time he had been no more of a soldier than Trillip had.

  Silently, he hoped Trillip would see fewer dark days than Drew had.

  “And you, Merin, why did you come?”

  “You wouldn’t take Harliss,” Merin said, giving him a smirk. Somehow the gesture looked both genuine and forced to Drew.

  “Merin, I’m not going into something like this with someone I just met. I’ll admit I feel better with you here, too. You have kids, though, and they need you too. I would have understood.”

  “I know that, Drew. The fact that you would have understood is part of why I am here.” She paused, looking back over her shoulder at the distant tents of Rogek Shad. “My children are there, yes, but what would I do for them there? The truth is, Lam cries into my shoulder with sorrow I do not know how to soothe. Arix asks me questions for which I have no answers. They need a man that is no longer here, not the woman who is left behind. This--doing something--that is what I know how to do. That is how I know how to make things better.”

  Merin continued staring off into the plains beyond the trees, keeping her face turned away from Drew and Trillip.

  “Besides, I do not think I am who Arix wishes to see right now.”

  There was a lot familiar in Merin’s tone, a chord he had heard many times during those last fights with his father. Looking at her now, he saw a small glimpse of what it might be like to be on the other side of those arguments.

  “Merin,” Drew said, “I don’t know how to be a parent, but I’ve seen it done poorly. You care about your children and--”

  “Hold,” Merin said. She put one hand to her brow, looking more closely at the vast, snow-flecked plains that lay between them and the mountain ranges.

  Drew followed her gaze and saw what she was focused on.

  A dust cloud with a dark shape in the center, kicking up a great deal of snow and debris as i
t headed toward them. It was too far for Drew to make out what it obscured, but it was unmistakably headed in their direction at great speed.

  “Do you have dust devils on this world?” Drew asked, though he was certain this was no weather pattern. His hands itched for a weapon. A gun, a sword, a magic wand. Anything. Why had they decided not to bring anything to fight with?

  As the dark shape in the center of the cloud grew closer, its true form became clearer. Trillip gasped.

  It was a beast that reminded Drew of the elephants he had seen at the Portland Circus as a boy, but this was much larger and hairier than any creature on display in that big top. He guessed the massive tusks alone were taller than his body, huge, matted lengths of brown fur dragged on the ground of the snowy plains, raising the cloud around it. Its long trunk trumpeted a blast as it thundered toward them, Drew’s mind recalling the name from his school books. A woolly mammoth, a beast from the past now racing toward them.

  Drew peered into the approaching cloud, seeing the rider atop the mammoth.

  Sinar.

  “Ah, shit.” Drew ran his hand over the scar on his chest, feeling the tension building inside. Back for more, at the worst possible time.

  He looked around for his options. They were few, the stone wall separated them from the river. There was only the copse of trees for cover, the massive mammoth was easily big enough to reach them in the trees. They would have to stand and fight, though he was not sure what there was to fight with.

  “I think we now know what caused those large tracks in the snow outside the lower library,” Trillip said from behind him. Drew took a quick look back, seeing the fear in the man’s eyes.

  “Trillip, why don’t you move farther into the trees? I’m not sure what we’re going to do here, but it would be best to have a lookout. As a backup.”

  Drew hoped the man would agree, he was trying to spare his pride, but Trillip looked like someone who spent more time fighting with paperwork than with his fists.

  He breathed a sigh of relief as Trillip nodded, running back toward the darker shadows of the grove of oaks.