by D. H. Dunn
“She is stable, as you are,” the Yeti said. “Her trip from Sirapothi to Aroha Darad may have altered her age. A trip through a second portal will not cause this issue again.”
Lhamu looked back at Drew with a smile, Drew half expecting her to stick her tongue out at him. Nima turned to face Lhamu, taking the girl’s hands in her own.
“Don’t you want to go home?” she asked. “To Sirapothi? I thought that was where you wanted to be, that’s what you said before. That you shouldn’t be here.”
Lhamu shook her head, her grin wide and her eyes sparkling nearly as brightly as her crystal. “That’s what I thought. But now I know. With you - that’s where I should be. Maybe … maybe you could call me ‘little sister’? The way Drew does with you.”
Drew could see Nima’s defenses breaking down. As much as he suspected Nima wanted to keep the Caenolan girl safe, it simply was not in Nima’s nature to tell someone they couldn’t do something that would make them happy. Lhamu clearly detected her wavering as well, the girl squeezing Nima’s hands tighter.
“Besides,” Lhamu said. “You need me! And . . . you’re all the family I’ve ever known. Please?” Lhamu’s eyes were growing damp.
Drew knew that if she started crying there was little chance Nima would be able to hold out.
“I don’t know. . .” Nima said, a small grin crossing her face. “A little brother was a pain enough. A little sister too? Still, maybe you can help me torture Pasang. . .”
Nima may have planned to say more, but she was cut off by Lhamu throwing her arms around her, the light coming from the girl nearly blinding. Drew had his worries about this, but it was in the end Nima’s decision.
Nima released Lhamu, taking a moment to look at the items gathered on the table. Those were supposed to be my problem, Drew thought. Yet, perhaps this was better. Perhaps, as Nima said, letting someone else help might do him a little good.
“It’s decided then,” Nima said. “Lhamu and I will take these things back and bury them somewhere no one will find them. If the Speaker is willing, we can leave tomorrow. Maybe in the morning?”
“So soon?” Trillip asked. “The people here, the Rakhums of both cities, I am sure they’d like more time with you both. To thank you.”
“Nima is likely right,” Upala said with a frown. “The longer these items are in this world, the more risk of them being used.”
Drew couldn’t argue with that, even as the realization began to dawn on him that Nima leaving meant never seeing her again. For the second time. Still, more time here wasn’t likely to make that any easier.
Merin clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention.
“If you are leaving, Nima and Lhamu, let my children and I cook you one meal before you go back to your world. We must give you a sample of true Rakhum cooking, to create a memory of us to take with you.”
Drew saw Nima’s eyes light up, and he laughed. Nima had never been one to turn down an opportunity to try something new.
The Speaker walked toward the door of the tent, Trillip close behind him.
“Trillip, please join us,” Merin said. “Speaker, you too. If it is within your rocha.”
“A meal sounds excellent,” Trillip said, nodding his agreement.
The big Yeti paused for a moment, Drew noticing he leaned on one of the tables for support. The Speaker had been injured, as they all had, but Drew now wondered just how badly.
“My rocha?” the Speaker asked, pausing. “My rocha is unspecific in such matters. Yet I would be honored to join you and your clan.” He shambled slowly toward the door, taking care to avoid the support beams of the massive tent. Pushing the flap aside, he passed out into the night.
Arm in arm, Nima and Lhamu moved toward the front of the tent to chase after the Yeti. Nima gave Drew a quick wink as she walked by Merin, headed into the street with Lhamu.
Merin turned and looked at Drew and Upala expectantly, her eyebrow raised. “Are you two coming?”
He supposed Merin understood all too well that he and Upala had much to talk about. Unlike Nima, he would be sticking around, so there would be time for meals with Merin’s family.
Yet there would be no more meals with Nima. The realization made his stomach clench, a catch coming to his throat just thinking about it. He had only just gotten his little sister back, and now he would lose her again.
He felt Upala’s arm come across his shoulder, as if she somehow knew what he had been thinking. He leaned into her smooth skin, savoring the warmth of her touch.
It was a good reminder. He had gained something here as well. Something amazing.
“We will be right along,” he said. Merin gave them both a smile, then turned and walked out into the moonlit evening.
Drew turned away from the entrance, finding Upala directly in front of him. He smiled, putting his hands on her waist and drawing her close. She looked at him, the fire light from the hung lanterns reflecting off her olive skin, her brown eyes squinting with her smile.
“Well,” he said. “I guess you are stuck with me after all.”
“I have suffered worse fates.”
She put her hands around his neck, leaning in to kiss him. It was warm and soft, like all their kisses had been, but Drew’s heart beat even faster than before. This was no rasi sakta, this was his new life. A good life. He was filled with a sense of safety and protection, of being needed and having needs met.
But what would that life be?
He broke off the kiss slowly, needing to put words to the questions in his mind.
“Any ideas then on what we should do with ourselves? I mean, you know. After dinner.”
“I do have ideas,” she laughed. “Many of them. Some we can discuss tonight, others tomorrow. For now, I suggest we spend the evening in the company of our friends, while they are all still here.”
Upala stepped back, taking his hand. Her fingers intertwined with his as she led him toward the cool night air and his future.
“That,” Drew said, “Sounds perfect.”
35
Nima sat on a long rock that pushed through the snow, with Drew at her side. The entrance to the Vault of the Weight lay just behind them. The long corridor that led into the mountain looked very similar to the Vaults they had seen on other mountains, as did the huge red doors. These doors had been ripped from their hinges though, each of them appeared to have been tossed aside by whatever freed the Weight.
The two of them had discussed the mystery of the doors while the Speaker slowly popped in and out during the day, bringing bag after bag of supplies. If Nima counted correctly, all the satchels had been delivered and now they were waiting for the Yeti to bring Lhamu and Upala up from the base of the mountain.
“Nima, I’m still worried about you bringing Lhamu,” Drew said. “I know the Speaker said she was stable, that it was safe for her to travel through the portal but . . . Nima, she’s blue! She has a crystal growing out of her head! People are going to notice that, and . . . well the people in our world are not used to all of this.”
Nima nodded. Drew was only trying to help, and it was nothing she had not worried about herself. Yet she could not leave the girl behind, take away the first person she had ever known.
Not to mention, Nima wanted Lhamu with her too. There was something comforting about having someone still be with her who had seen what she had seen, knew that these amazing things existed in this world. Lhamu also seemed to want the same experiences out of life as she did. To see, to explore.
“I will have to make sacrifices,” Nima said. “Nepal is a big place, there are plenty of valleys and forests where we could live for years without seeing anyone else.” It would be an adventure of its own, she supposed. There would be some danger, but there was always danger in adventure. “I can’t make her stay here.”
Drew sighed. “Sure, I know. I understand. I’m just worried. I’d tell you to be careful, but I know you’ll be careful enough.”
There was
a pop of lavender light, and the Speaker materialized with Lhamu under one arm and Upala under the other. Lhamu looked a bit winded from the travel, but she was already smiling and shuffling through the snow toward Nima. Upala put her arms out, Drew and Nima helping her sit on the stone while she recovered her breath.
The Speaker took a moment to walk toward the entrance of the Vault, looking up at the huge opening that led inside. He then glanced at the two doors, one lying on the ground on each side. He turned back, looking at Drew and Nima.
“I do not wish the knowledge of this path, so I will remain outside the Vault.”
He strode past them, his limp as noticeable as it had been the day before. He stood before Lhamu, covering the girl in his shadow. The wind blew his white fur, revealing more of the crystals in the Yeti’s back. Several glowed a peaceful blue, which reminded Nima of the sky after a storm. Others appeared dark, emitting no light at all.
He knelt before Lhamu, his head still higher than hers even when on his knees. He spoke, his voice somehow both deep and soft at the same time.
“Foretold, it has been my honor to accompany you. We have waited for you to come. Knowing you would help alter the world and our rocha. Through your example, we have learned that we have kept ourselves apart from the peoples of this world for too long. We should ‘help,’ as you say. Thus we have a new rocha, more complex, but perhaps one that will alter the Yeti further.”
“I-I,” Lhamu stammered. “Thank you.”
It was a small response, but Nima could not think of anything else she could have said. What could you say to that?
The Speaker turned back to face Nima.
“Arrived. I wish you a fair and safe journey. Know that there is more of my kind on your world. Have the Foretold call to them, if you need them, and the Yeti will answer. They will be watching you, and watching over you.”
Lhamu ran forward, practically climbing up the Speaker’s back as she placed her arms around his neck. The big Yeti held her for a moment, emitting a joyful noise that sounded a lot like a laugh to Nima. He then placed Lhamu gently back onto the snow and walked toward the edge of the small clearing they stood on.
Nima got off the stone, looking at the collection of bags and packs that Upala had asked the Speaker to help them transport. She knew she could handle one of the packs on her back, and several of the bags had belts attached to them. She supposed she and Lhamu would manage, but it was hard to understand what could be inside them all.
“Upala, this is a lot of bags. What is in all this?”
“It is possible I have packed too much for you,” Upala said. “A tent for your arrival. On the Ish Rav Partha on your world. As many of Kater’s blink tubes as I could find, loaded with crystals. They should help you descend-”
“Which you will do quickly,” Drew said. “This is still Everest in . . . what? December? Just being on the mountain is madness. Really, I still think you should wait-”
“Which you two debated last night,” Upala said, gently taking Drew by the arm. “And into the morning. I have yet to see Nima fail to accomplish something she sets her mind to. But, to Drew’s point, there are also warming tubes, additional crystals, as much good rope as we could find, cloaks, rations, boots-”
Nima interrupted Upala by hugging her. Upala stood frozen for a moment, and then wrapped her arms around the smaller Sherpa woman.
“I will miss you, Nima,” she said, wiping a tear. “You and Drew have brought us . . . brought me. . . a new chance. We will not forget it.”
Nima relished the warmth of the woman’s embrace, realizing Upala was the last person of this world she would likely see. A road that had started when she had jumped through the portal on Everest to save her brother, and now she would return to him.
She stood on her tiptoes, whispering in Upala’s ear, “I know you will take good care of Drew. Try to keep him from worrying too much.”
She let Upala hold her for a minute longer, then stepped back. Lhamu had already donned her pack and had strapped one of the small bags around her waist, and now paced around by the entrance to the hallway. Nima understood how excited the girl must be. Her eyes fell on Drew as he accepted a kiss from Upala and also moved toward the large doorway.
Nima let out a sigh, grabbing a pack and throwing it over her shoulder. Lhamu didn’t have the same goodbyes to say that she did.
The entry corridor of the Vault of the Weight was much shorter than the other Vaults Nima had been to, leading immediately into a large central chamber. It was circular, like the others. In the center of the room was a large, deep pit, deep enough that peeking over the side Nima could not see the bottom of it.
Lhamu grabbed a loose stone from the floor, dropping it into the pit. Nima was able to count to ten before she heard the faint sound of the stone’s landing.
“Where do we go from here?” Drew asked.
On the far side of the chamber were four different passages, one right next to the other. All of them led deeper into the mountain, quickly disappearing into darkness. Nima thought back to the vision the Thread had placed in her mind, opening it like a book.
“Second from the left,” she pointed. “If the Thread’s image is correct, it shouldn’t be too far. There should be a room with a lot of portals in it, but I know which one to use.”
Drew sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Nima could feel an apprehension growing inside her, one she suspected Drew felt too. The goodbye was coming, and as much as she believed in what she had to do, she didn’t want that moment.
“Drew, Lhamu and I. . .” she said, surprised as her voice broke. Her eyes were starting to water. As hard as she imagined this would be, it was already harder. She took a moment to steady her voice and tried again. “I’m going to walk Lhamu down to the portal. I’ll be right back.”
Lhamu nodded, taking a moment to run over to Drew and give him a quick hug.
“Take care of her, kid,” Drew told her.
Lhamu responded by making a fist in Drew’s direction, then putting her webbed thumb up and giving the man a wink. Drew’s laughter echoed in the chamber as Lhamu skipped over to the hallway. Her bright, head crystal lit her path, the girl stopping after a few moments.
“Take your time,” Drew called after Nima as she followed Lhamu down the hall. Nima tried to push the lump in her throat down as she walked into the hallway. She reminded herself that saying goodbye was hard, but there was much she was excited about to come. There was a whole world of her own to explore, just as she and her grandfather had often talked of doing.
Her vision from the Thread was very clear, and Nima only had to walk for a few minutes before reaching a long, rectangular room with more than a dozen portals in it. They were all inert, ebony ovals that looked painted onto the stone. Lhamu following her, she walked down the length of the room, stopping at the second-to-last portal.
She knew what color crystal she needed to open it, everything was right there in her head. She put the pack down on the floor, the shadows from Lhamu’s light painting a large shadow-picture against the wall. Nima slipped the drawstring of her pack open, making sure the box, helm, and armor piece were all there.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, turning to see Lhamu smiling.
“Go and say goodbye to your friend,” she said. “Use all the time you need. I will be here.”
Nima had gotten used to thinking of Lhamu as nearly a child, though she looked a teenager. The face that looked back at her now was mature, and understanding. It looked a lot like Val’s. Nima smiled back.
“Thanks,” she said, turning back toward the hallway to the central chamber. The lump in her throat was even bigger now, it was all getting very real.
Drew sat at the edge of the dark pit, letting his legs dangle over the side, until he heard Nima’s approaching footsteps. He got back to his feet, seeing her silhouetted against the opening of the passage. Just as when he had first seen her, when the sun overhead had put most of her in shadow, her hand reaching into
the crevasse to pull him out.
“I guess this is it, huh?” he said. His words echoed, bouncing from one wall to the next.
“Yup.”
She stepped into the light of the chamber, her face wearing the same subtle smile he could feel on his own. He wasn’t happy they were saying goodbye, but he was happy they were both here. That they had lived in each other’s lives, helped each other get to this moment. A place in time where each could let the other one go, and know they would be safe.
Before he lost his nerve, he shoved his hand into the pocket of his cloak, pulling out a folded piece of paper.
He held it out to Nima and she reached for it. Right up until the moment the paper arrived in her outstretched hand, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to have it, but then it was done.
A weight left him, perhaps the last weight tying him to his other world, his other life.
Nima didn’t unfold the paper, but she did hold it up to the light for a moment, squinting. He knew she didn’t want to invade his privacy, Nima was just . . . being Nima.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A letter for my father. The address is written on the outside. If you could send it to him, I’d appreciate it. Don’t put a return address on it though, I don’t want him to come looking for me, or you.”
“Sure,” she said, turning the paper over in her hands. “What’s it say?”
“The truth,” Drew sighed. Not the truth about where he was, but about who he was. Finally. What Dad did with that information would be up to him.
Nima shoved the paper into her pocket. He could see her eyes were getting damp again, as he knew his were.
Jesus, this is hard. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. Better to get this over with.
He opened his arms, Nima nearly knocking him over as she jumped into his embrace. He held her for only a moment, knowing if he didn’t end this soon it was just going to get harder and harder.
He stepped back, looking down at her. Nima smiled up at him, that big goofy grin of hers, even with tears. The perfect image of her to remember.