The Rift Walker

by Clay Griffith

  At the same time, other Mountaineers took up positions on the ridgeline with their murderous heavy, double-barreled rifles. As the troopers raised guns to their shoulders, their sights on the plateau, Msiri stood at the place where the rope bridge was tenuously tied off to a gnarled tree, as well as two rusty spikes driven, perhaps decades ago, into the fractured rock. He waited as soldiers repaired and strengthened the anchor points. General Ngongo pulled on each rope with all his strength and then nodded to his king.

  Adele slipped down to the edge of the crevasse next to Msiri. The wind battered everyone, fluttering Msiri's heavy cloak and plume. The gale pushed her with such force she had to lean against the wind as she peered over the side onto cloud tops far below. The king looked calm, even casual, and seemed eager for the adventure. The troops smiled and chatted, obviously proud of their leader. It was an amazing and useful example for Adele, though she still thought it foolhardy.

  She said, “Good luck, Your Majesty.”

  Msiri laughed. “Oh, I don't need luck. My mother assured me you would guarantee success. With you here, I cannot die.”

  “She said that?”

  He waved his hand. “More or less. She can be vague.”

  The princess said, “Prophecy or not, your bravery is prodigious to walk this bridge first. I can't believe you would take that risk.”

  Msiri furrowed his brow. “I'm not taking the risk. You are.”

  “What? Me?”

  “No!” Leaping in front of Adele, Colonel Anhalt nearly threw her to the ground. “Absolutely not! This is complete nonsense! You have the Mountaineer Brigade. Let them cross.”

  “It must be Princess Adele,” the king replied calmly. “It is what my mother dreamed. The princess must set foot on Jaga's boma first to ensure victory.”

  “I just remember something about hyenas,” Adele remarked.

  Anhalt spun and gazed gravely into Adele's eyes. “You must refuse. This is too much. The vampires are obviously baiting a trap.”

  The princess looked down again into the abyss, her voice holding only a slight tremor. “I can't refuse if the king requests it. We owe him.”

  Anhalt's dark visage froze in horror. “I beg you, no.”

  “It isn't that far across. I reckon twenty, thirty feet.”

  “Fifty meters, Highness,” General Ngongo said flatly.

  “Oh really? So far?” Adele laughed nervously. She desperately wanted to refuse, but couldn't. The queen mother's mystic visions had convinced Msiri that Adele was required for success. Although they couldn't physically force her to traverse the chasm first, her refusal could lead to conflict with the overwhelmingly superior Katangans, and certainly to the revocation of her asylum. King Msiri wasn't being duplicitous or cowardly; he simply wanted to do the right thing, as he believed it. On the other hand, the queen mother was one of Mamoru's network; that alone gave her vision far more weight than just a seer's prophecy.

  She took a deep breath. “Colonel, if I asked you to do it, you would. I have duties as well.”

  Anhalt stood tight-lipped, shaking his head at the insanity of it all, while the Mountaineers began to crawl out along their grapple lines into the chasm, pulling themselves hand over hand with their ankles crossed on their ropes. The wind tossed them like laundry, their rifles and swords dangling beneath them.

  Adele said, “Your Majesty, I'm ready.”

  “Excellent!” The king clapped his hands. “You will find it a simple task. There are many such bridges across Katanga. Small children walk them every day. I will be right behind you on the bridge. And, as you see, my Mountaineers will be crossing on their traverses too. But you must set foot on the other side first.”

  Anhalt said, “I will be with you as well.”

  “Fine.” Adele tugged on one of the ropes. “Let's keep it to three, shall we? Until we see how sturdy it is.”

  “It is as safe as a stroll in my garden.” Msiri kicked off his sandals and patted her back with a powerful hand. “Just don't pull on the guidelines to correct yourself should you begin to tilt. You may well spin yourself out of control.”

  Without another word, Adele placed a booted foot on the rope just off the side of the cliff. It stretched several frightening inches before coming taut. She took both of the guide ropes in her hands and stepped off into the sky, pausing to get her balance on the vibrating cables. The wind kicked up and the rope swayed from side to side, carrying her feet wildly with it. She wanted to yank hard on the ropes in her hands, but Msiri had warned her about that. She heard the collective gasps of the troops as she struggled for balance, fighting her fear of being tossed into open sky. Finally, she got her feet under her again and steadied the ropes.

  Not bad for a first step.

  She started with controlled, measured steps, unable to deny there was something exciting about how the rope beneath her bounced wildly. Sliding her hands along the fibrous guidelines, she watched the far cliff draw closer.

  Adele risked a quick glance to her left at the numerous rope lines spun like a spider's strands across the chasm. The Mountaineers maneuvered them expertly, unlike her own halting steps on the thin rope that flexed as if it were alive. But still none of the men, however skilled, passed her. Instead they stood ready on the lines, watching the air, watching the boma—watching her.

  The weight of these lives rested with her. They were all operating under Msiri's odd belief. She quickened her pace, wanting to be across. As Adele walked the rope with more confidence, the air grew suddenly misty. Clumps of grey-white clouds rose around her and the world vanished in a cottony haze. She felt the guidelines in her fists, but could barely make them out a few feet from her face. Her boots were lost in the fog, and she could see nothing of the rope beneath her. She was stepping from nothing to nothing.

  Suddenly a black shape darted in the mist right below her, like a shark cutting the surface of the ocean. Adele stiffened. At first, she hoped it was just a bird, but then she saw another and then another pass so close she could touch them.

  “Vampires!” she shouted.

  Screams erupted around her in the fog. Behind her, sniper fire started up, but the riflemen must've been firing nearly blind because of the mist. Now there was as much danger from being struck by a wild bullet as from an attacking vampire. They had to cross quickly and get to solid ground. Adele stepped up her pace. The ropes jerked and shivered beneath her palms as the men behind her repositioned or fought off attackers. The gusts of wind grew stronger.

  “Carry on!” Msiri called out.

  There were breaks in the fog, and through it Adele saw vampires speeding like bullets, careening into the Katangans, ripping them from their tenuous holds on their cables. Flailing, the men tumbled over and over down into the chasm, in comparison to the vampires, who despite the dangerous air currents, maneuvered with daring grace.

  All over, men were shouting and screaming. Msiri's voice boomed his command. “The Equatorian must land first!”

  Adele was about to shout that he couldn't keep his men hanging helplessly on their lines, that they needed to cross and form a perimeter. Then a dark shape slammed into her. A strangled scream escaped. One hand came loose and her arm waved wildly, seeking anything to hold onto, as her fingers swept through fog. A rope hit the crook of her elbow, and she quickly clenched her arm around it. She managed to keep her balance as her hand found a line again.

  “Highness!” Anhalt's voice sliced the clouds.

  She managed to croak, “I'm here.”

  The ropes quivered from wind or other footfalls, and her arm was beginning to strain. A vampire erupted out of the fog and grabbed her by the waist. With her right hand, she reached for the Fahrenheit khukri in her belt, relieved it was still there. It flashed a green hue as she yanked it out and curved it downward. The blade sank deep into the flesh of the vampire, who howled and released her. She scrabbled for the other guideline.

  The king said, “Quickly now, move forward.”

  Adele
probed with her right foot. Her toe touched something hard and she lowered the rest of her foot. It fell on a broad and ungiving surface. The ground. The princess pressed harder and heard crunching soil. Through the mist she saw rocks.

  “I'm across!” Adele stepped onto solid ground with a rush of triumph and relief. So close to falling, so close to death. She would live to see Gareth again. As she pushed up through a small gap onto the broad surface of the plateau, she noticed that the earth felt warm.

  “Go! Go!” Msiri shouted to his men. “She is across!”

  The king and Anhalt appeared at her side. The colonel yanked up his goggles to inspect her with worried eyes, and Adele noticed the glow of his Fahrenheit saber in his gloved hand. Msiri was brandishing an intricate Katangan axe and an automatic pistol.

  Anhalt lowered his goggles into place once more, prompting Adele to do the same. They both clicked their shroud filters into place to sweep the area for the telltale blue glows of vampires. The Gurkha noted Msiri's red glow and then was startled by Adele's white signature. His first thought was that the fragile chemistry of the goggles was failing, but his own arm was bright red too. The princess was simply brilliant white.

  Msiri proclaimed, “Victory is mine.”

  “Is that so?” Anhalt answered a trifle brusquely, shooting another vampire as it rushed them. “Because we seem outnumbered.”

  “No matter, Colonel. The princess entered Jaga's boma first. The ndoki chief is finished.”

  The Gurkha grunted in fatalistic acceptance. “Well, every man should have faith in his mother.”

  Adele's pistol flamed and fired rhythmically at dozens of blue shapes around her. Anhalt stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her. The air and ground were thick with darting vampires, veering this way and that. She almost missed as two dove toward her. She lifted her gun and fired, sending one tumbling into the other. They both landed at her feet.

  Adele stabbed deep with her Fahrenheit dagger. She twisted the knife and pulled it out, slashing at the second. A brief resistance told her she'd connected. It staggered away from her, and to her surprise, it attacked the other one, perhaps jealous of the imminent kill.

  Heedless, Anhalt stepped in to protect her, his own Fahrenheit blade slashing at the two vampires fighting in front of her. One reacted with a howl of pain before they both fled. Adele turned her attention to new attackers, always moving forward, making room for the Mountaineers who struggled across the chasm onto the boma plateau.

  And then suddenly everything changed. Adele's head snapped up at the familiar sensation of power.

  In the cold moments before the battle began, Gareth sat on the rock floor of Jaga's cave, where he had been for days. His clothes were in tatters and his hair matted with blood. His eyes darted between the two amazons who glared at him, daring him, practically begging him to try to escape. Their faces were etched with hatred for his killing of their sister. Only Jaga's command kept them from attacking.

  Gareth had eaten every day and felt quite fit, aside from the fading results of the brutal beating he'd suffered a few days before at the hands of Jaga's wives. His shredded leg was whole once more, though he had yet to test the strength of it.

  For several days, Gareth had listened to the sounds of slaughter outside. He wished he could have stanched the noise, but it was futile. The screams and sobs were similar to the sounds of a clan gathering in England. Jaga's people had fed heartily until their entire herd was killed and drained and shoved off the side of the plateau. Jaga had commanded the massacre for two reasons: one, so that his people would be fit for battle, and two, so that they would have no choice but victory. If they did not triumph, they would starve.

  Now the females were distracted by the distant sounds of the approaching Katangan army. Faint whiffs of nonhuman blood couldn't hide the sounds of a human army. Since sunrise, the vampires had been restive as the clashing weapons and boots slapping against rock grew louder. Gareth strained for Adele's voice and waited for her distinctive scent to waft over him, proof that she came with the men who were stumbling into Jaga's trap. If so, he had to escape and find her; he had to be sure she was safe.

  Gareth crawled to the edge of the pile of detritus taken from human victims over the years and crouched there, pretending to be cowed by his captors. He eyed the trophy mound and began to shove bones and rusted metal idly with his hands. Then he saw what he was looking for. The steel blade of a long-handled axe was beginning to rust, but its edge was still keen, even though it bore several notches from shattering bone. Gareth pulled it from the skeletal refuse.

  The two amazons watched him. So foreign was the use of tools to vampires, they couldn't conceive that Gareth could perform any useful action with the axe. They stared as if he was no more than an animal pushing an object with his snout. He stood, but without aggression, holding the axe hilt loosely in one hand, leaving a trail in the dirt with the blade as he strolled closer. The females growled and showed their claws. Gareth lowered his eyes in submission. His claws were retracted; he was no threat to them.

  The chilling war cry of Jaga's people rose from the mist outside, and soon it was accompanied by human shouts and the popping of gunfire. In the chaotic noise, Gareth heard a terrifyingly familiar sound—Adele's scream. The wives glanced outside anxiously, then quickly back at Gareth, who swung the axe with all his considerable strength. The blade impacted one female in the neck, nearly severing her head.

  The second wife stared with utter surprise at her thrashing sister, unable to credit what had just happened. She looked up at Gareth, but he was already ripping her throat and cracking both her rib-bone cuirass and her own rib cage as well.

  As Jaga's wives twitched on the ground, Gareth flew from the cave and was instantly among vampires rising and diving in the air. The wind had picked up and was beginning to shred the heavy clouds. He fell in with the shrieking flock and among the blood and gunpowder, detected the faint scent of Adele. He rolled and streaked toward her, slamming ndoki out of his way.

  The mist was patchy and thick, cutting his visibility, but the touch of the wind allowed Gareth to pinpoint Jaga above several humans, positioning himself for a kill strike. With a jolt, he recognized one of the humans as Adele.

  Jaga dropped toward the small human beachhead where Adele fought alongside Anhalt and King Msiri. It was a foolhardy attack, but it reeked of nobility and the quest for an honorable kill. Gareth flattened out and dove to intercept the vampire king. The smell of humans grew strong, and he could hear Adele's heavy breathing and smell the acrid burn of her Fahrenheit blade as it sliced the mist as well as the wraithlike ndoki around her.

  Then, through a fissure in the clouds, Gareth finally saw Adele, her face glowing with perspiration and auburn hair flying. She had a pistol in one hand and a glowing dagger in the other. The woman fought like a machine, an intricate, beautiful machine crafted especially for this bloody production.

  As Gareth prepared to slam Jaga aside, he saw Adele turn her goggles toward him. Her pistol came up and flamed. The bullet crashed into Gareth's shoulder, flipping him over. Jaga careened onto his back and together they crashed hard to the ground. He dug his claws into Jaga, who stared in fervent amazement. He felt the heat of a Fahrenheit blade pass close by, and the Rwenzori vampire king howled as it plunged deep into his chest. Gareth threw out his arm instinctively as Adele struck again. The knife sliced his forearm.

  Jaga came for Gareth with his teeth. Several bullets thudded into the dirt around them. The prince sensed the wind welling up from the chasm only a few yards away, and he locked Jaga into an embrace, scrambling to his feet. A hellish hot blade cut him across the back, but he bulled toward the edge of the precipice, while Jaga screeched with fury and clawed his shoulders. Then they were airborne.

  “What's wrong with you?” Jaga screamed. “I had Msiri!”

  Gareth didn't bother to respond. The gaping wound in Jaga's chest still glowed from the Fahrenheit blade, so he dug his claws into the gash, tearing fle
sh and muscle.

  “Stop!” Jaga cried. “You're one of us!”

  Gareth forced his claws deeper into the gash, grimacing with the effort, until he felt Jaga's heart. He punctured it. Wide-eyed in disbelief, Jaga stiffened. Gareth released his hold and watched the Rwenzori king's quivering form drift away like a dead leaf.

  A sudden blast of wind sent the prince slamming against the side of the chasm, where he clutched an outcrop and gathered his breath. The sound of weapons fire reached him and he climbed, hurling himself upward from rock to rock, ignoring the sting of his fierce wounds, fighting the violent winds.

  When Gareth crawled over the top of the cliff, he was slapped by the smell of death. It was not the mundane metallic sting of blood or musk of human fear. This was different. He could taste it, and the fear he smelled was his own.

  It was Adele.

  Through the wind-ripped fog, Gareth spotted the trapped humans in the distance. Msiri, Anhalt, and numerous Mountaineers were surrounded by dead and wounded, both human and vampire. The Katangans were vastly outnumbered. The ropes the troopers had used to traverse had snapped and the treacherous rope bridge was shredded. Soon the murderous ndoki would winnow the humans to nothing.

  In the midst of the chaotic battle, Adele was no longer fighting. She knelt with her hand on the ground. Gareth smelled the heat pouring off her and felt it in the earth under his knees and hands. His skin tingled with flame, just like it had when Adele prayed in Edinburgh and dreamed over Nabta Playa.

  But this was more.

  Much more.

  Tendrils of rolling smoke and heat coiled around her limbs like living things seeping up from the ground. She was the nexus of a silver flame that flared around her brighter than the sun.

  Gareth started backing up. He had to get away. The Rwenzori vampires were trapped by bloodlust and didn't realize what they were feeling. But he knew.

  Adele was going to kill them all.

  Suddenly, Adele turned her head in his direction. One hand, wrapped in argent smoke, reached up and slowly lifted her goggles. Her dark eyes locked with his as they shared the unbelievable realization that she was going to kill him. Her eyes betrayed a surging terror, of what she was becoming, and of the fact that she couldn't stop it. Her form blurred within the smoldering fire.