by D. H. Dunn
“Nima, where are you going? You’ll be killed!”
“Out there,” Nima said, her voice catching a bit. She couldn’t look at Lhamu, it would be too hard to leave if she did. “I’ve got to keep Terminus busy.”
Somehow.
People were in trouble after all, and helping was what good people did.
28
Drew walked carefully across the top layer of rocks and ice, his boots crunching on the thin coating of frozen stone.
Just inches below him lay a massive, long plain of snow, angled and flat. It was perfectly set for an avalanche, just as Upala had thought.
When he first saw it, Drew was actually surprised it hadn’t fallen already. As it had turned out, this particular snow field was stubborn, right when he needed it not to be.
He traced the flow’s likely path down Ish Rav Partha, pushing his tired brain to make his best guess. There was no way to be completely sure the direction the avalanche would take, but he was confident it would be large enough that being exact wouldn’t matter.
Big enough to bury a Dragon alive?
Directly down the mountain beneath him he could see a golden thrashing form that had to be the Voice. Whirling through scorched fields, it was surrounded by wooden wreckage and small, unmoving red spots blotching the landscape. One tiny, darker dot ran toward it, while dozens of others scattered away in fear.
Upala. With no fire to attack the beast with. . . No, he pushed his mind away. He had a job to do, he couldn’t afford to worry, not even for her.
Fire hadn’t helped him much either. He had attempted to trigger the avalanche by using the magical flames from his hands, but had only succeeded in melting the snow.
Maybe if I had more practice. Still in his experience, you needed a good vibration to get the snow moving. Of course, he had never tried to stare an avalanche before.
Guess I’ll do this the old-fashioned way.
He gave the Speaker a glance. Sitting cross-legged in snow above him, the Yeti was no longer trying to hide his exhaustion, though he had refused to offer any details. As long as the Speaker could get him back down to Upala once the avalanche had begun, maybe there’d be a chance for them all to rest after this.
The snowfield gleamed red and yellow with the approaching sunset. Waiting for his touch. He crossed his fingers on both hands, holding them up to the sky.
“Give me a little luck here, Artie.”
Bringing both of his hands down onto the top of the snow, Drew pounded into it with as loud a roar as he could muster, ice flying off his gloves and back into his eyes. He then instinctively covered his face with his forearms and listened for the roar.
He heard the distant, faint screech of the Voice below him. He heard the wind whipping around the field of snow and the far-off call of a bird. That was it.
Ok, no problem. No need to panic.
He shuffled to his left, moving away from the area he had attacked, giving himself about ten feet more. He pulled in as much air as he could into his lungs, freezing the inside of himself, and then with a yell brought both of his fists down again.
Again, the snow flying into his face was the only result.
“Can you not trigger it?” the Speaker’s tired voice came faintly.
Drew ignored him, shuffling to his left again. Despite his best efforts, he took a quick peek down below, seeing Upala’s shield being battered by the Voice. At least she had gotten its attention.
Panic and fear rose inside him. She was down there risking her life and he was failing. She wouldn’t hold out for long against that thing.
Come on, Adley!
“Come on you bastard!”
A third time he pounded into the snow. There was a slight crack that ran through the surface of the field, a small section about five feet across breaking away in a sheet, but it slid to a halt about ten feet down.
Dammit!
The angle wasn’t steep enough, the snow had cooled down too much. It needed a bigger impact than his fists, or likely even the big fists of the Speaker could make.
A bigger impact.
Jumping before Drew could lose his nerve, he dove over the rocky area he had been using to shield himself from the snowfield, landing directly on the top of the field itself. The snow was deep and powdery, he sank quickly.
Just as quickly, the vibration he hoped for ran through him, a shudder that tumbled him forward. It turned into a thunderous shaking as the top sheet of the snow let loose from the denser lower section and the whole field began its descent down the mountain, carrying Drew along with it.
He focused as he spun and twisted, able to push a shield around himself in a sphere, making himself just a ball of energy that he hoped would ride along with the wave of snow. Provided he could keep himself focused enough to maintain his concentration, even as he was battered about his protective sphere like popcorn in a kettle.
Spinning head over tail, his bubble of energy worked itself toward the surface of the avalanche, flashing glimpses of the darkening sky between walls of white. It wasn’t enough to get his balance, Drew felt ready to vomit all over the inside of his shield if he didn’t stop moving soon.
He could only hope that Upala had found a way to get the Voice in position, and that the Speaker had enough sense to get down there and get her out.
Only at that moment did he realize he had left himself no way to escape this situation. The air in his shield would run out eventually, and if he ended up in the deep end of a mountain of snow, he’d be dead long before they found him.
Using his fire to try and melt a path out would likely just bring more snow down upon him, burying him further.
As long as Upala and the others were safe, it would be worth it. Regrets still jostled inside him, thoughts of unfinished plans and fences unmended. Images of Nima, Upala and his father tumbled through his mind in an avalanche of their own.
Drew rolled down the mountain within the roaring wave of snow he had created, wishing he believed in something he could pray to.
The thunder of the avalanche rolled on, though now he could hear a new sound mixed with it. It sounded like the roar of an animal, though it was muffled by the snow and his shield.
He saw just a glimpse of a shape, just for a moment. Something other than snow and ice outside his crimson energy, a wall of flesh, pink and pale, with faint scales and the hint of a dark eye. Then the sound again, unmistakably a roar.
The Worm was within the avalanche.
Upala ducked just in time to avoid a swipe from the Voice’s claws.
She had only a blink of an eye to look up at the slopes of Ish Rav Partha, hoping to see signs of Drew’s avalanche. The Voice screeched again, and Upala threw up an energy barrier between them just in time.
It had been using its piercing cry as a weapon, a wall of sound that vibrated against her shield. Each time it hit the energy, cracks would form across the surface of her protection, forcing her to drop the barrier and reform it whole.
Her shield shattered, the remaining force of the Voice’s cry driving her off her feet. She flew backward, landing hard on a piece of wooden debris. The beast charged after her anew, a golden blur of movement that leaped into the air, sharp claws poised for her flesh.
Upala reached inside to for more mystic energy, but could not find her focus. Rolling to her right, she managed to avoid a full strike but cried out as one of the claw sliced into her right side, drawing blood.
The beast tumbled past her as she struggled to her feet. Its uncoordinated mania was likely keeping her alive. The Voice seemed so far gone it was incapable of strategic thinking.
A spark of hope lit inside her. Its seeming insanity could be her advantage.
She was smart, much smarter than this beast, yet she had been playing to its strengths. Trying to fight it when she was clearly outmatched. She didn’t need to defeat it, she just needed to keep it here.
She ran, the pain of the cold air on her sliced arm bringing her clarity. She hadn’t
picked a direction, she knew the pollen-kite fields well enough that what she needed was bound to be available in any direction. She had heard Merin mention the kiters used long stone tunnels to seek shelter in during the wind-dervish season.
Upala saw one not far to her left. Circular and made of stone, the opening looked high enough for her to run into, but she’d have to crouch. The Voice couldn’t fit its body in, but it would likely be able to fit its neck and head.
It would have to do.
The Voice roared, charging after Upala. She threw her shield up behind and over herself, crafting it not as a sphere but a half dome, just enough to keep the Dragon off her while still allowing her to run.
She felt the jarring impact of the Dragon against her barrier, but she held it firm and kept running.
Upala ran toward the tunnel, the opening revealing a space large enough for several pollen farmers to hide from the winds. Concentrating, she gave her shield a shove backward, ramming it into the Dragon’s snout. She heard its frustrated grunt at the impact.
Good. She needed it angry, really angry for this to work.
She charged into the tunnel with the Voice right behind. Once inside, she heard the inhalation from the beast she had hoped for. She only hoped she would survive it.
The Voice let loose a terrifying screech, the stones of the structure cracking and shaking with its power.
The tunnel amplified the sound tenfold, enhancing its strength and echoing it back all around them. The wave of noise and force crashed into Upala like a thunderclap, lifting her into the air and launching her down the remaining length of the tunnel.
She burst out the far end of the stone tube with a grunt, her ears filled with a ringing that drowned out all other sound. Upala crawled on her hands and knees, her head spinning. She felt her mouth filling with fluid, she spat blood all over the dirt and snow. Collapsing to the ground, she rolled onto her side, looking back through the tunnel at her opponent.
The Voice lay on its side, shaking its head back and forth with frantic movements, clawing at the top of its skull. Upala could see blood where it had dug grooves into its flesh, she guessed trying to clear the same ringing that had wiped out her own hearing.
The Dragon twisted upside down as it rolled in pain, Upala beginning to hope that she had gained the upper hand.
The Voice’s eyes then locked on hers and its claws froze as it stared at her. A cold chill ran down her back as the Dragon unraveled its long, golden body and regain its footing, never breaking its gaze upon her.
Upala scrambled to her feet, throwing a shield up above her as the beast leapt over the tunnel and crashed into her, knocking them both back down to the ground.
Still deaf, save for the harsh whine in her ears, she scrambled forward on her hands and knees, the Voice’s claws shooting out and raking across her back .
Upala let out a cry of pain she could not hear, noticing the trembling of the ground underneath her belly. Upala looked up as the vibrations quickly grew to a quake.
The attacks from the Voice ceased suddenly, she suspected it saw what she had seen.
A wall of snow thundered down the mountain straight at them both, it would be on them in moments. She tried to stand, but her torn legs refused to hold her, and she toppled back to the ground. Behind her, the Voice let out a shriek of fear as it began weakly pushing its wings, willing itself into the air to escape the eminent threat.
She watched, feeling helpless as the Dragon began lifting itself toward safety, leaving Upala trapped in the path of the avalanche that was supposed to trap them both. Now it would only leave Upala and her failure buried underneath the snow.
29
As the world tumbled around him, Drew struggled to keep his frustration and fear under control.
He grunted as he was again slammed into the side of the bubble he had created, his shield not only keeping him riding along with the descending avalanche, but protecting him from the repeated attacks of the Worm.
Like slamming into the metal bulkheads of a ship during high seas, it was a painful process. Sometimes he’d get his arms up in time, but if he did not his head usually took the brunt.
There was no time to worry about Upala, or if the avalanche would be headed toward its intended target at the foot of Ish Rav Partha. It took all of Drew’s attention just to keep himself alive.
Spiraling all around him was a dizzying mix of light and dark, tumbling endlessly. The sunlight would streak in when he would briefly emerge at the top of the thundering river of snow, only to be plunged back into its depths.
All throughout, the Worm cruised through the snow as if it were water, repeatedly ramming into Drew’s shield in an attempt to get to him.
With each impact from the Dragon, the energy barrier lost some of its strength, forcing Drew to shrink it just a little more to keep it from collapsing. He struggled to keep himself upright, and with each of the Worm’s strikes he was losing more focus.
Something needed to give. He’d either lose his concentration and be buried by the avalanche or allow the Worm to batter him about until he took one hit too many.
If it wants me, I guess I’ll let it have me.
Drew waited, trying to sense the slight change in pressure and light that came with rising to the top of the snow. Another strike from the Worm, this time from his right side. He flew toward the left side of his bubble, crying out as his injured back slammed into the barrier.
He felt the change in his ears he waited for, not unlike when he’d driven his old car up the hilly roads of Oregon. That pressure and pop inside his head, the darkness of the snow suddenly giving way to a bright, brilliant light.
The Dragon surfaced out of the avalanche right underneath him, giving Drew the chance he had been waiting for.
He allowed the crimson energy of his shield to dissolve, feeling the sudden hit of the cold air as the snow pounded down the mountain underneath him.
He dove down through the air towards the beast, the broad, pink-and-white mottled back of the Worm directly underneath him. Calling fire to his hands as he fell, he focused as best he could on keeping the flame hot but close to his palms and fingers.
He reached out for the Dragon’s scales, hoping for a little of that luck that favored Nima so often.
As soon as his fingertips grazed the dry skin of the beast, he turned up the heat and pushed with his fingers as hard as he could. He was rewarded with a melting sensation as his flaming hand sank into the beast up to his wrist. He twisted his other arm around, repeating the process with the same results.
The Worm let out a muffled roar of as Drew held on for his life, both of his arms now embedded in the Dragon up to his elbows, his legs wrapped around the beast’s back for what little stability they could add.
The Dragon dove back into the avalanche, Drew pulling as much air into his lungs as he could as it submerged. He had no idea if he could hold on while the Worm surfed through the river of snow, but if he couldn’t he supposed it wouldn’t matter for long.
His forearms were wet and warm, the thick and bulky flesh of the Worm pushing against his skin and helping him hold on while the beast twisted and turned through the snow. Keeping his head down as the powder pulsed around him, Drew could feel the pressure building in his lungs. He figured he had a minute of air left, maybe two.
He pushed new fire into his hands, lancing it away from his fingers like swords, piercing the interior of the Dragon. The beast shuddered and began twisting upward, he could feel the angle of the creature taking him back toward the surface.
The Worm burst through the top of the avalanche, breaching through the sky like a whale. It let out another piercing cry of pain, shaking its body in mid-air. Even as Drew gulped in as much oxygen as he could, he felt his hands slipping from the beast’s wild thrashing.
With one final jerk of its back, the Worm launched him into the air, blood gushing from the two holes in its skin.
It dove away from the avalanche, burrowing directl
y into the rock of the mountain in what Drew hoped was an attempt to get away from him. He fell back toward the snow, hastily calling his sphere of energy back around himself.
He caught one clear glimpse down the mountain before he sank beneath the snow’s surface again.
The avalanche still bore down on the outlying farms of Rogek Shad where he hoped Upala had been able to keep the Voice.
Darkness came back upon him as he descended back into the depths of the raging river of snow, but with it came a faint hope that their plan might actually work.
Upala watched the avalanche tumbling down the mountain, glancing in Ish Rav Partha’s direction whenever the Voice game her a chance. Blood streamed into her eyes from a cut on her forehead, one of the Voice’s latest attempts to subdue her and allow it to escape.
Since injuring its own eardrums with its attack in the tunnel, the beast had become even more erratic and unpredictable.
She had prevented its attempts to flee by creating using her shield to keep herself and the creature in close quarters, forcing it back to the ground.
Upala was repeatedly attacked for her efforts and she was forced to drop the barrier, only to reform it farther away from her, just to gain some separation from the beast.
She and the Voice had repeated this process, leaving Upala riddled with cuts and deep gouges. At times she had to drop to one knee just to keep upright, but thoughts of the Rakhum of the city kept her going.
The Dragon seemed no longer interested in combatting her or following Terminus’s instructions, it was now focused only on escape. Yet Upala could not allow it, as much as her exhausted body cried out for relief.
This had to end here. She could not permit these people to suffer in the future due to her weakness.
The snow pounded down the bottom of the mountain, the initial cloud of the avalanche would be on them in seconds. She had to get the Voice down to where it could be trapped, entombed by the same unthinkable weight that would likely bury her as well. It would be a just price to pay.