Fractured Everest Box Set

by D. H. Dunn

  The tree then shook again, more fruit dropping past her head as her world vibrated. The branch Nima clung to made a cracking sound by her feet, near the trunk.

  Her breathing quickened, her stomach tightened into a knot. Hanging on as the branch began to angle further she looked frantically for an escape. There were no other tree limbs to climb toward, and the one she was on might snap if she tried to climb closer to the trunk.

  With a loud crack, it dipped even farther, Nima’s hands slipping as she twisted into the air.

  She now hung upside down with only her legs holding her onto the branch, the failing limb still swaying lower.

  She could see the forest world below her, the leaf covered ground she would soon be falling to.

  The angry grun backing up again, ready to start the charge that would surely bring her down.

  A green figure ran through the woods toward the grun, shouting her name.

  Val!

  Her heart began to beat again, one last rush of damp, forest air came into her lungs, and then the impact came.

  She felt the branch give way, the sudden opening of gravity beneath her as she fell.

  Nima crashed into the ground, landing hard on her back, blasting the air from her lungs. Her eyes shot open as she gasped for breath.

  The thunder of six huge feet shuddered through the forest, the heat and moisture of the creature’s exhalation washing over her.

  She was stunned, her body completely ignoring her requests to run, to crawl, even to close her eyes. She was forced to watch the end as it came.

  There was then a cry, a voice that rang through the wood. Nima saw a brown-and-tan blur, a swift shape landing on top of the grun’s back from above. The vision was only there for an eye blink, and then it was gone.

  The grun let out a weak wheeze, a feeble sound that hissed from its trunk, stumbling sideways out of its charge. It collapsed, blood leaking from its mouth, then rolled to its side.

  Nima lay on her back in the leaves and mud, the pains she felt in her body meaning nothing.

  The creature lay dead next to her, two silver blades embedded deep within its skull.

  They too meant nothing.

  All that mattered was the woman who walking toward her, bound in leather armor, a white triangle emblazoned on her chest plate.

  Tanira.

  She knelt, offering Nima her hand. Nima took Tanira’s hand, the same hand that had thrown a dagger into her thigh, and allowed the strong woman to pull her to her feet.

  Her body was sore, but she felt nothing broken. Any pain she might have could wait.

  Tanira’s mouth was smiling and saying words, but Nima could not hear them. All she heard in her mind were the words Tanira had said to her in the Thartark prison.

  She did what she had to do.

  For the Line.

  Tanira’s smile never had the chance to leave her face as Nima’s arm shot out, connecting with the woman’s jaw and dropping her to the ground like a broken promise.

  Val came running up to Nima, out of breath. She felt a slight ray of sunshine in the clouds of her heart as she saw him. He was alive. His clothes muddy and wet, he had several small cuts on his face and arms, but he was alive.

  He grinned from ear to ear, his arms wide for an embrace.

  “Nima!” he said. “You are unhurt! I was coming to help you, but I see you gained unexpected assistance.”

  Tanira said nothing, sitting on the ground and rubbing her jaw. Perhaps she was thinking about the Line. Nima didn’t care.

  Nima ran to Val, relief flooding through her as she hugged him. They had survived, and Val’s mother was out of danger. For the moment that was what was important.

  With his arms wrapped around her, she felt safe. Nima wanted to just savor this feeling, stay in this one heartbeat and never leave it. The coming Tempest and Tanira could fade into the mist for all she cared.

  Yet even as she found herself surprised as how comforting his closeness was, she knew they could not they could not wait. Val’s mother and his people were counting on her. When this was all over, there would be time to explore her emotions further.

  For Tanira, as well as Val. When this was over.

  “Let’s get going,” she said. She kept walking, knowing if she stopped she might never start again. Questions pestered her, refusing to be quiet in her mind.

  How was Tanira here, and what did she want? Whose side was she on?

  “Let’s get back to your mother, Zel, and the child. We’ve got to get them to the caves.”

  “Right,” Val said, running to catch up to her. If he was hurt by her walking by, Nima saw no sign of it. “What of Tanira?”

  Nima looked over her shoulder. The woman still had not moved, though she was no longer rubbing her jaw. She sat in the dirt, her eyes looking back at Nima’s.

  Offering no answers.

  “Tanira,” Nima said, “can go to hell.”

  Chapter 26

  Noting the slats between the rails were slowing, Upala raised her hands and pushed another wave of crimson shield energy at the ground behind them, propelling the crowded digcart forward again. This idea of Drew’s, a novel use of her abilities, was the only thing giving them a chance at catching Sinar before he reached Kater’s fortress.

  The wind blew through her hair as Upala leaned against the rear edge of the digcart as it sped down the rail system. Squeezed into the cramped confines of the rickety vehicle, she was squashed against the rear wall of the cart, her back pushed in against Drew’s.

  He was half-crouched in the middle, his hands clamped to the sides as he hung on against the speed. Merin and Trillip were sharing the front of the car, the sight would have been comical to Upala in other circumstances.

  Watching the snowy plains sweep by to her left and the mountains to her right, she felt a twinge of admiration for her brother. Kater may have been many terrible things, but he was quite inventive. She would never have thought of this system to move relics quickly from the mountain dig sites off to his fortress on the mountain of Ish Lumori. She was sure it made things more convenient for the people of Nalam Wast, though it was doubtful that was her brother’s intention.

  She could feel Drew’s back against hers, the strength of his muscles pushing against her own as he struggled to stay stable in the speeding cart. A small fire of desire rose in her mind, but she was able to push it aside. Drew’s realization of the visual component of the rasi sakta was proving helpful, even if it was not likely to be a long-term solution.

  Trillip gave an unintelligible shout at the front of the car. They had asked him to stay behind, to head back to Rogek Shad and safety, but the man had insisted on accompanying them. While Drew focused on watching the stability of the old cart, Merin and Trillip kept an eye on their quarry.

  “How far ahead is he?” Upala called out, pushing another wave of angled shield energy at the ground to maintain their speed. The cart shuddered in response, but held together.

  “It is hard to tell!” Trillip called back over the chaos of clacking sounds as the cart raced along the track. Merin whispered something to the man, apparently nominating him their speaker. “Merin thinks he might be pulling ahead slightly. He is just a dot on the horizon now.”

  “Dammit,” Drew shouted. “Who’d have thought that big beast of his could move so fast?”

  Another exclamation from his world she guessed. She was surprised that one language would need so many expletives.

  “I think,” Upala started to speak, interrupted for a moment by the racket of the digcart’s movement. “I think Sinar had to wait until morning- -he was drained from his attack on the Yeti!”

  Drew grunted in response, his voice barely audible over the rattling of the cart along the track.

  Upala pushed another wave of energy behind them, looking over her shoulder at Drew’s back, which was filled with tension. He had seemed intense since learning about the attack on his friend, but she had been uncertain what to say to him.
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br />   She thought back to those groggy moments after being released from the asan rashi crystal in the Under. Her vision and hearing had both taken time to recover, but she did recall a few moments with the young woman Drew spoke of. Small and stout, she remembered a ready smile even in the face of the grief she and Drew were feeling at the time. Only minutes passed before they parted ways, this Nima to head back to her world while she, Drew and Merin faced off against Kater.

  Even after defeating her brother and in the height of his desire to see them both returned home, Drew had begged her to keep the portal to Aroha Darad open long enough to save Nima from Vihrut. Upala bit her lip at the irony. Trapped away from her own world, Nima had stumbled into a portal to the very place Upala had spent centuries looking for.

  Sirapothi. Just the thought of it sent a wave of excitement through her, her passion for the world almost a rasi sakta of its own. A land without death, the legends said. The world where the great hero Orami Feram had buried himself with his greatest weapons and treasures. A world where she would be safe.

  And apparently a world her brother had already known how to reach, though he lacked the lore to actually open the portal.

  Ah Kater! Her heart cried out to him, remembering times when things had been different, before the gulf of the world opened between them across the Umbuk river. Why did you not come to me?

  A distant flash of lavender behind them caught her eye, pulling Upala out of her thoughts. She bit her lip harder, tasting blood, then feeling the quick tingle as the wound healed.

  Another flash, then a third. Small, white figures inside the purple explosions of energy, still far off but getting closer. Yeti, pursuing their former captive and what they’d reasonably assume were the murderers of hundreds of their kind.

  “Dammit,” she whispered, noting Drew’s word did feel appropriate. This could get bad quickly. She increased the force of her shield pushes, the cart lurching forward with additional speed.

  Drew jostled behind her, his arm briefly contacting her shoulder, a momentary shock.

  “Upala!” he yelled. “Not too fast! We won’t get there at all if this bucket falls apart!”

  “Yeti!” She yelled, making sure it would be loud enough for Merin and Trillip to hear as well. “Porting in behind us. We have to go faster!”

  She pushed another wave of force at the ground behind them, the shimmering, red energy impacting with a crack. The cart began to shudder consistently, a rattling sound joining the clacking of their speeding progress on the rails.

  The pair at the front of the cart made no reply, while Drew let out another expletive from his world. She paid little attention to either, her focus split between launching pulses of the shield and the figures coming from the plains.

  Seven Yeti, it was easy to count them now. With their natural ability to port without exhaustion they were able to run between magical bursts, huge, powerful bodies growing nearer by the second.

  They were close enough she could see their arms reaching to their backs, pulling small flashes of orange and red into their hands.

  Those flaming crystals would be flying soon. With a growing sense of panic, she wondered if she would have the strength to shield them when the attack came.

  She sent another wave at the ground, the cart’s shudder and rattling increasing, a whine coming from the wheels.

  “Upala!” Drew’s shout was just another sound amongst the noise. “The cart can’t take it!”

  “Find a solution!” She didn’t have the time to be polite or the attention to spare. Her fingers produced a new pulse every few heartbeats, the toll on her lungs began to increase.

  She felt foolish, having bragged to Drew that using her magic didn’t tire her.

  Yet she had never used her magic like this before, she felt like all the air in her was being eaten up as fast as she could produce it.

  She saw a distant orange flash from the Yeti behind them the first fireball came arcing towards them.

  “Turn coming!” Trillip shouted from the front, as if there was anything Upala could do about it. The opening salvo from the lead Yeti landed several yards behind them, yet close enough that she could hear the hiss as it hit the snow.

  “Brace!” Merin yelled, Upala allowing one last shield pulse before gripping the wooden cart with what remained of her strength. She breathed in whooping gasps as the rickety cart leaned to the right.

  Hold the rail, wheels, she chanted the thought, as if it would help. Another red flare exploded, closer this time. The Yeti were closing in.

  She felt the cart right itself as they rounded the curve, only for the rattling whine below them to increase. She could see sparks flying from underneath the cart, bouncing on the rails.

  “Wheel axle!”

  She heard Drew’s grunt as he ripped a wooden piece off the side of the cart and began to bang at the wheels.

  She suspected he was trying to slam the axle back into place. Whatever he was doing, it had an effect. The cart began to shake less.

  For the moment, the Yeti were hidden as the tracks curved around the mountain. A scattering of sharp rocks and boulders blurred by, only an arm’s reach to her right. She pushed another wave of the shield energy at the ground, waiting half a heartbeat longer to give Drew more time. His banging on the side of the cart continued.

  “Got it,” he cried, though the whine beneath them did not stop and neither did the spray of sparks. “I think.”

  “I think not!” Upala yelled back, the cart began angling up a hill as the straightaway behind them revealed the Yeti once again. The beasts had gained considerable distance, and she could now see their hands clearly, all filled with flaming crystals.

  Their mouths called to her in a cry of rage she could not hear over the sounds of the cart racing itself to pieces. At a bark from the lead Yeti, they let the fireballs fly.

  “Incoming!” Drew’s shout rang in her ear. He must have been looking over her shoulder.

  As the wave of flaming projectiles flew in an arc toward them, she could see this time they would be on target. There would be no other option, how tired she was did not matter.

  Upala allowed one last wave of crimson energy to leave her fingers. The cart gave another boost, the axle crying even further.

  She then pushed the energy upward and outward, engulfing the cart in a circular bubble of shimmering crimson. The cart complained even further, its speed suddenly slowing as the edges of her shield sent sparks arcing where they contacted the rails.

  “We are slowing!” Merin shouted from the front, as if only she could see that.

  Upala filtered out the other’s voices and began imagining a framework of red netting intertwining into the shield, strengthening it as best she could.

  As a unit, the crystals impacted her shield, fourteen explosions as one. She cried out as she willed every ounce of herself into the crimson creation, but it was not enough.

  Her shield buckled, then broke. The rain of fire began.

  She felt the heat on her shoulders as one of the crystals passed clear through unimpeded, the hot substance melting into her skin. Upala cried out at each of the impacts. Her ears rung with the small explosions, the world going silent except for a constant thundering.

  One seared into her leg, two burned her left arm. The back of her hair began to singe, filling her nose for a moment with the acrid scent of it burning. Her eyes watered with the pain, though she knew it would heal.

  Unable to see through tears, she dropped the overhead shield and pushed a new wave at the ground behind them, the cart lurching forward. Her worries were not for her own pain, but the others. She had only taken a few impacts, who had the rest hit?

  A glance over her shoulder gave her the answer.

  Drew stood in the cart, leaning forward over Merin and Trillip to shield them. His back was riddled with burns, his shirt nearly melted away. She could see the heaving of his breath, the pain he was in was obvious.

  Upala said a silent vow to the
Hero that Drew’s wounds would heal as fast as hers, and turned back to the rear of the cart.

  With another pulse from her, the cart kept its steady pace, the racketing and whines concerning but consistent. The sparks were gone she noted as her vision cleared of tears.

  The Yeti were also falling behind. Several of them were now simply standing, small shapes diminishing in the mist.

  A few others were continuing to teleport after them, but the distances they were traveling were smaller. She hoped the mass attack of fireballs they had sent had simply worn the creatures out.

  They were not likely to give up the chase, but with any luck, Upala might reach Sinar before the Yeti caught up with them.

  For the moment, Upala hoped, their immediate troubles might be over.

  “Trouble ahead!” Trillip shouted.

  Cursing, Upala let another wave of force fly behind them and looked toward the front of the cart. Fatigue now flowed through her, her muscles feeling as they were on fire.

  Drew was slumped to one side, the burns on his back visibly healing already. The digcart had crested a hill and was about to begin a steep drop. The speed they would gain would be terrific, and there was no way to slow the cart.

  She followed Trillip’s gaze and saw the hill was not the issue. Rather, the congregation of figures piling debris on the tracks that led to Kater’s fortress was the problem. Garantika’s men, no doubt. Followers of the Line, hoping to prevent them from stopping whatever their agent was doing in Sirapothi.

  There was a switch ahead, a lever could be seen halfway down the hill, easily reachable by Trillip or Merin. The Line sought to give them a choice. Throw the switch and be routed toward Nalam Wast and likely an army of Line, or collide into the debris and allow at least Trillip and Merin to be killed.

  Not to mention they’d be stopped in their tracks. Even if they could all somehow survive the impact, their rickety cart would not.

  “Upala!” Merin yelled back as the cart accelerated down the hill. “What do we do?”

  She glanced at Drew, who was still slumped to the side of the cart. There was not even time to determine if he was conscious, certainly no time to get his opinion. Trillip reached his hand out to the left, ready to tag the switch.