Fractured Everest Box Set

by D. H. Dunn

  Her body was the very body of her people. Their arms and legs, their eyes and hands. Hundreds of years, thousands of actions all to lead to her. She had no feelings that mattered, no goals that were relevant, no desire that could outweigh her responsibility.

  She was Tanira, and she was nothing. Nothing but purpose, nothing but action, nothing but strength.

  Be strong, her father had told her.

  She was trying, trying so hard. Thoughts, doubts and guilt kept chasing her, but she had to ignore them. If she did not, all would be lost.

  The End of the Line did not have the luxury of caring.

  Chapter 17

  Despite the range of emotions Drew was feeling, running from rage to loss, when Trillip removed his gag, the first thing he did was chuckle.

  The sight of the guards of the Line running away in the moonlight from the terror of a charging mammoth was not only amusing, it was a ray of hope in a situation he had resigned as being hopeless.

  The mirth faded quickly. That Sinar was a hopeful sight reminded Drew of just how dire their situation was. He threw the gag toward the nearest tree, recognizing that they were back in the same small grove of trees where they had fought Sinar and his pet the previous day.

  The giant creature, Cuvi, stomped off to the side of the road, pushing its long trunk over the stone wall and into the freezing Umbuk, drinking deeply. Sinar slid off Cuvi’s woolly back and landed in front of Drew, just as Trillip finished freeing Merin. Even as Cuvi’s appearance had been a source of humor, his mood darkened immediately on the sight of the Manad Vhan’s face.

  “Where the hell were you?” Drew shouted, pushing himself forward until he was nose-to-chin with Sinar, cold dark eyes looking down into his own. “We get ambushed by Garantika’s men and we turn around and you were gone. Why didn’t you help?”

  “What help would you have liked, friend Drew?” Sinar asked, his mouth a sneer. “Should I have burned them all to cinders? I am not sure I could have kept the three of you from that fire if I had, you know. I wagered you might survive but of your two quicklife friends here, I was less sure.”

  “Fine,” Drew said, turning on his heel. He had no desire to argue with the Manad Vhan, who was reminding him too much of Kater to tolerate much longer.

  “Remember, our keen tactician from worlds beyond had decreed there was to be no killing,” Sinar said.

  Drew balled his fists as he kept his back to the man and stared at Merin. Apparently, he wasn’t done.

  “The same tactician who led you all into an obvious trap, and now the very love of his life has been given to the Yeti, for who knows what purpose.”

  Drew whirled back at him. He could feel a heat rising inside him, his face felt like it was on fire.

  “Yes!” he yelled. Unlike Kater, Sinar didn’t grin but Drew found the man’s frowning, disdainful expression just as galling. “Yes! I screwed up! I walked right into Garantika’s trap and handed everything to him! I screwed up, and it cost everyone!” He turned away again, the strength dropping out of his legs as he sunk to his knees.

  “Drew, that is not true,” Merin’s words barely registered, his anger and guilt like a surge running through him. Like waves crashing against the side of a sinking ship, sailors in the water screaming for help. A ship headed to the bottom of the ocean carrying his brother with it, all because of him.

  “Our deal still stands, you know.”

  Sinar’s voice.

  He could almost see his fellow sailor’ faces sinking in the stormy Indian Ocean, while his lifejacket clung to him like his guilt.

  “Give me what I need, open yourself up willingly to me and I will save Upala. I will bring her back to you.”

  The waves of his emotions pounded into Drew, leaving no distinction between his tears and the salt of the sea. Upala’s voice was in the gale, her musical speech on the wind. Asking him why he failed her, how could he have lost her again?

  There were other voices. Merin’s? Artie’s? He couldn’t be sure. The only voice that was louder than his guilt was Sinar’s. Clear as a beacon in a storm, showing him the way home.

  “What you have made wrong, I can make right, friend Drew. Just agree to let me into your heart. Let me see into your essence.”

  There was no hesitation anymore. There was no climbing back from this mountain without Sinar’s help. The only cost was to him, and that was a cost he could bear.

  “Fine,” Drew said. “Do it.”

  He heard himself speak the words, knowing what would come after. Sinar’s hand burst into flame, surging forward towards his chest as Drew’s eyes focused on his grin.

  Pain exploded into his heart and tore through him like a torpedo. The waters of Sinar’s mind and spirit began to flood through him. They filled him, weighed him down, merged with him. As one, they sank to the bottom.

  Drew was still floating, but it took him a moment to realize he was not in water but rather air. He was floating above the clouds, the sky above him a blue that was so bright and clear it hurt to look at. Below was a featureless landscape of white, an endless plain of nothingness that offered no clues as to the ground that might be beneath.

  He was afraid, but the fear within him was muted. It was as if the world he was seeing was in a different language, one his emotions could not understand, resulting in a general unease with no specific threat to focus on.

  He sensed a presence next to him, casting along the vapor trails and air currents at his side. Arms outspread, Sinar flew with grace and ease, the whipping of his braided beard showing the high speed at which they moved. The Manad Vhan wore a smile that was purer than any Drew had seen cross the man’s dark face.

  As one, they put their hands out, Drew’s left hand moving of its own volition and echoing the actions of Sinar’s right. A golden cord materialized between them, a rope of electric arcs and sputters as it wound slowly down to whatever surface they flew above.

  Sinar’s thoughts were in his mind, his memories and knowledge intermingling with his own. He could feel Sinar’s hunger for what he sought, the pure essence of Earth that would guide him back to Drew’s world.

  Through that hunger, like a door open only a crack, Drew could also sense some of Sinar’s memories. It was like a vast room, dark and shadowy, a storage place for images and thoughts that stretched out across thousands of years.

  The scenes rushed through Drew’s mind so fast they became only glimpses.

  He saw a city in the desert, great glass spires perched upon a cliff overlooking the sea, Sinar’s anger and bitterness at the scene clear and strong. It was the home of the Manad Vhan, the great City of Sands, whose location had eluded Upala and Kater all their lives.

  There was a blurring of the image in his mind, as it cleared it now showed the crushed stones of an ancient temple, rotting inside the depths of a dense, humid jungle. Drew could sense it was from here Sinar had learned the abilities he was now using, traveling into a world between worlds, a place all other Manad Vhan had been locked from.

  The door to Sinar’s memories slammed shut, air now rushing past Drew’s face as the piercing blue of the sky replaced the ancient memories. He could feel himself descending along with Sinar as massive shapes pushed their way up through the mist and vapor.

  They were peaks, the peaks of great mountains with snow plumes trailing off with the wind. As they grew closer in their descent, Drew realized they were not simply mountains, they were Everest.

  All of them. Hundreds of Everests, all of equal height and prominence with no other mountains in sight. An entire chain of Everests, the length and breadth of all the many worlds that could be accessed via portals, such as he had seen in the Under. Yet this was not the Under, with his connection to Sinar’s understanding, Drew knew this was the Over.

  As a pair they dove in deeper, passing through one layer of clouds, only to reveal another. There was no world to see, just an endless array of the same mountain sitting within seas of mist, the boundaries between one Everest
and another blurring and shifting.

  Drew’s eyes followed the golden cord that seemed to be guiding them to one of the peaks. Their speed slowed as they zeroed in.

  Getting closer, more differences became apparent, reminding Drew of looking through binoculars that were slowly being focused. This mountain was greener, with a broad, flat snow plain at the peak which was separated from the rest of the mountain by a layer of mist. As the other Everests faded out of view, the world around this particular version sprang even further into focus.

  Drew could see a vast ocean surrounding the mountain, Everest itself existing on the shore of a great sea. Far off on the sea he could see a small hint of land. He and Sinar left the green Everest behind as the golden string of energy took them speeding across the waves. As the tiny speck of land grew closer, it was revealed to be a small island, one with a brilliant beam of light streaking into the sky.

  They slowed even further as they neared the surface of the water. Drew reached out to touch the waves, only to have his hand pass through as if the waves were a projection. It was no ghost sea, Drew knew he was the projection, the ghost. A small vessel was ahead, a sailing ship of some kind.

  They came level with the wooden ship, seeing tall, thin creatures walking its deck with bark-like skin. The gold cord led right into the side of the ship, Drew and Sinar passing through the wooden hull and into the interior, the magical line bringing them finally to their destination. The source of the Earth essence that Sinar planned to come here and harvest, as Drew’s was no longer available to him.

  He looked at the figure in horror, realizing what he had helped lead Sinar to. Through their shared connection, he could feel Sinar’s joy and excitement as the ancient Manad Vhan was now even closer to finally achieving his goal. All he needed to do was travel to this world and kill this one woman. The woman was tied up against the mast of the ship, her head slumped forward, yet her face was unmistakable. One Drew had thought he would never see again.

  Nima!

  Drew screamed, but his voice made no sound. He turned to Sinar, the man’s ear-to-ear smile piercing his beard. Sinar shook his head at Drew as if to say there was nothing he could do to stop him, and Drew felt the energy of their connection growing. Nima began to fade away as the whole world shifted from white to yellow, then yellow to red. Flames seemed to be coming from the wound in his back and chest, he could feel them burning the whole of his body while he was helpless to act.

  Drew’s world went from crimson to black and he saw no more.

  Chapter 18

  Tied to one of the Thartark vessel’s many masts, Nima felt the sweat building on her brow. She was not sure when she had regained consciousness, her senses seemed to climb out of the darkness like she was emerging from snow.

  She did not know how long she had been out, but it had been immediately clear where she was. A Thartark had been checking her ropes when she roused, the strange branch like hands testing the knots. It had ignored her as she tried to talk to it, and it had lumbered off away from her as soon as it was satisfied she was secure.

  They had left Val’s bandage on her leg, and she supposed that might be the only reason she still lived. The wound in her thigh throbbed with a steady drumbeat of pain, but it was dull enough if she kept the pressure off it.

  Not long after the first of her captors left, she saw two more of the strange Thartark drag Val’s form from below decks, tying him to the mast opposite her. He appeared to be unconscious as well, her heart gripped with fear at the sight of the many bruises covering his face.

  The effect the heat was having on Val was obvious. He looked painfully dry, the faint scales on his skin becoming more distinct. All around them the empty sea slowly moved by, the sky and water devoid of much detail other than what lay before them.

  Beyond him, the island home of the Thartark took up much of the horizon. It had a darkness to it that made it seem unwilling to give up details about itself. Nima judged it to be a few kilometers wide from the portion she could see, and vaguely rounded, as if someone had laid a bumpy bowl on a table. She could make out the occasional small tree on the edges, but other than those rare sights it seemed to be a large barren rock stuck in the middle of the ocean.

  At the tip of the bowl was the Pillar, as brilliant in the day as it had been at night. Pushing its yellow payload up into the sky, Nima noticed that the distant clouds avoided the area around the island, casting it in an onslaught of sunlight, as if the Pillar itself forced them away.

  The Pillar was why they were here now, tied to the mast of a ship and headed to some unknown fate. The Pillar was what Tanira needed for her quest.

  Of Tanira there had been no sign. She grit her teeth at the thought of the knight of the Line, who had somehow placed her quest above the lives of her friends.

  Nima grunted, flexing her arms as she tested the ropes again. Tanira was on this ship somewhere, if Nima could get free, finding her would be the first thing she would do.

  Across from her, she watched Val’s eyes flutter open, her anger washing away with the relief she felt to see him awake. The red light from his crystal began to glow a bit stronger.

  “How is your wound?” Val asked. Nima could hear the fatigue in his voice, he was still exhausted from pushing the whale and then the beating the Thartark had given him.

  She looked down at her thigh, where Val’s compress still held tight. “Thanks to you, it is getting better.” The mast actually was helping, allowing her to put less pressure on the leg and rest it further.

  Her thigh still pulsed with pain every few moments. It was painful, but nothing like it had been right after Tanira had attacked. Gradually the pulsing from the wound had lessened, allowing her anger to outweigh her physical pain.

  The moment replayed itself in her mind. She thought she knew Tanira, understood what kind of person she was. Even in that moment, Nima had never thought that dagger would leave her hand.

  Foolish. She was as angry at herself as she was with Tanira. She was a silly child to get caught up in her dreams of adventure, blinding her to the truths she needed to see.

  She looked around at the empty deck of the ship. There were no Thartark to be seen. The ship was about ten meters wide at its widest point, which was where she was tied. There were wooden railings in some disrepair, rope strewn around the deck. They were possible weapon options if she could get free.

  Once the strange, thin creatures had affixed her to the mast and later done the same to Val, they had quickly crawled through hatches and scurried below deck.

  “Where are they?” she called to Val over the pounding of the waves. “The Thartark, I mean. Shouldn’t they be guarding us?”

  Val laughed, a weak gesture that she more saw than heard. “If you got free, who would you attack? Where would you go?”

  Nima shook her head in frustration. It was hard to understand the Caenolan’s inability to conceive of resistance, even in defense. She supposed it didn’t matter, the ropes holding her were strong, and the bindings sound. Whatever else the Thartark knew, they knew how to tie knots.

  “Those ropes are intertwined with kelp-strand,” Val said. “It is the same method we use to bind the structures that hold Caenola together during the Calm. They are very strong. It is one of the few things we have in common with them.”

  “Was Tanira right?” Nima asked. “Do the Thartark want you?”

  “I tried to convince them they did. We are still alive.” Val said. “It may be that they need to check with their leaders. They may have the capacity for violence, but the Thartark are not savages. They will wait and study us, there is no need to waste a resource.”

  “That attack on your village was savage.” Nima gave the ropes on her wrist another pull, with no more success. If nothing else, these ropes would be excellent for climbing, they seemed much sturdier and more flexible than those she had used in Nepal.

  Behind Val, the island grew larger as the ship picked up a strong wind. Nima could now make out sev
eral other ships along its shores as well as small structures on the beaches.

  A drop of sweat ran down Nima’s forehead and into her eye. She blinked it away, wishing she could just wipe her brow.

  “This heat,” she said. “I don’t understand it. We’re only a day away from Caenola. How can it be so much hotter here?”

  “I do not know,” Val said. “Perhaps it is the Pillar? It seems to push the clouds away. The mistwhales that live in our harbor give us fog and cloud cover, as does the shadow of the mountain, Varesta.”

  Nima shook her head. Varesta, the name was so similar. She thought back to Merin’s explanation of the Under, which seemed so long ago. Each world a facet of the same crystal, Everest being the common point on them all.

  “When we arrive. Do you have a plan?” Val asked. Nima looked back at him, surprised at his belief she would have some sort of strategy ready.

  To think he was a dynamic member of his society, one who was looked at as a boundary pusher. Still he thought she would have all the answers.

  “I have no plan. Do you?” Nima asked, putting the question back to him. “It’s your world, not mine.”

  “I don’t know. If these Thartark are not likely to kill us right away, then maybe we shouldn’t give them a reason to. Resisting might do that.”

  “Maybe,” Nima said, the deck shifting under her feet as the ship turned toward the harbor.

  She could see the buildings clearly, houses and dwellings carved out of the stone, the sun beating down upon the small settlement. Near the dock, one lone tower stood, about ten meters high, the only building on the island that appeared constructed rather than carved.

  Several thousand meters above it all, a small mountain marked the center of the island. Pouring from the summit was the Pillar, a stream of yellow and orange light streaking into the sky. It was wider now, but still Nima could see no source for the column of light. It was simply there.