by Inmon, Shawn
“Stay? How long?”
“Until the thaw. The day of the thaw, much of the snow will release and tumble down the mountain. That will clear the path. I will guide you to it, and you will have a much easier journey to find Lanta-eh.”
Alex glanced at Senta-eh, looking for counsel. She met his eyes, but did not give him an answer. This was his problem to solve.
Alex rolled it over and over in his mind, looking for options and finding only two—go out and likely freeze, or stay here and leave in spring.
He swallowed his pride and said, “Thank you for your offer of hospitality. We will stay with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Spring
Initially the days passed slowly for Alex in Hakun-ah. He had agreed to stay because he didn’t see any alternative. But it took time for the guilt of not being on the move, not working toward accomplishing their mission, to subside.
Alex volunteered the three of them—four, if they could find a task for Monda-ak—to help in any way they could.
Tokin-ak insisted that the most valuable thing Werda-ak could do was rest and let his leg heal. Over time, he became fast friends with the boy whose left foot was turned inward. Alex often spotted them huddled together by the fire, their heads close together, talking. He couldn’t help but wonder what two teenage boys in a mountain monastery in Kragdon-ah talked about. There was no Star Wars or Avengers movies to bond over, but they still seemed to find plenty of common ground.
Senta-eh was in the most unusual position as the only woman surrounded by dozens of men. She was never made to feel uncomfortable in any way, though the most ancient monk, whose name was Binga-ak, insisted on giving her his own private sleeping quarters. Senta-eh hated to be singled out, but in this case, she saw the wisdom of the decision and accepted. She spent her days crafting new arrows and arrowheads mostly, as her supply had run dangerously low.
Alex volunteered to chop the wood supply into usable pieces. He felt better doing something physical. In the afternoons, he met a number of the monks in the exercise room and they mutually taught each other self-defense moves. The monks of Hakun-ah knew a few tricks of leverage and pressure points that Alex was unaware of. Also, Tokin-ak had begun training him in the art of chaimi—self-defense using the walking stick. It was this skill that had allowed the old man to defeat the two younger, stronger men on the trail.
Alex was thrilled to learn, because he knew there might very well be times when he would be stripped of all weapons, but a limb or stick can almost always be found.
Having things to keep them busy helped the time pass, though the days were mostly unchanged. As high in the mountains as they were, the weather only changed by going from cold to colder, to colder yet. At first, snowstorms were common, dropping several feet of accumulation in a single day. Soon, it became too cold to snow, and a hard frost formed over the top of the drifts so that you didn’t sink in as easily.
Alex became friends with Trema-ak, a monk close to his own age who could not hear out of his left ear and spoke with a distinct thickness. A month after they had arrived, Trema-ak had brought out two pairs of massive snowshoes and Alex’s eyes lit up. They spent the next several weeks tramping around the area near Hakun-ah. At one point, they crested the tallest peak above the monastery. Alex stood in awe. Behind him, the land they had already traveled over stretched out to the west. In front, he could see the land he longed to be traversing.
He briefly considered trying to build a pair of skis and skiing to the bottom of the mountain, but almost immediately gave up the idea. He knew he would have to leave the horses behind, and very possibly Werda-ak as well. Not to mention that as good an athlete as he was, he was not a great skier.
Still, it was helpful to him to see the beginning of the second half of their journey stretched out in front of him. It helped him build an image of making progress again.
As time passed, the temperatures began to rise and the snow became too soft to snowshoe over. On the last day Trema-ak felt it was safe to go out, he took Alex to the point where he would be able to descend the mountain after the thaw.
Alex assumed that as soon as the snow softened a bit, the thaw would be right behind. He was wrong.
The days stretched out into weeks and then a month and the snow pack stayed in place. It was a lesson in patience that Alex may have needed to learn, but he fought against it.
Finally, when Alex was beginning to worry about his sanity, a new sound echoed through the monastery. At first, it was as soft as a sigh, then it became a deep low rumble rising in volume until it was inescapable.
That night at dinner, Tokin-ak took his visitors aside and said, “The thaw is almost here. It won’t be tonight or tomorrow, but soon.”
“I don’t know how to thank you. If we hadn’t accidentally run into you beside the road, I don’t know how we would have made it this far.”
“Accidentally,” Tokin-ak said, and smiled so broadly that it turned into a laugh. He reached into a deep pocket of his orange robe and pulled out a small pendant on a leather necklace. “I have a gift for you.”
The pendant was a simple, circular stone that had been broken in half. A small hole had been drilled in the half-circle for the leather.
“I cannot tell you when you will need this, or even if you will need it. But my dream last night told me to give it to you. If you will wear it, it may help you in a time of need.”
Alex looked at the simple pendant and was touched.
For all I know, this is something you found on a walk yesterday, but you want me to believe I have your protection going forward.
Alex accepted the gift and tied the leather behind his neck so that the pendant hung just below his throat. “I will wear it always.”
“We have preparations to make over the next few days—the thaw is a holy moment marked each year and our minds will be elsewhere. Tonight, then, we will have a feast to wish you on your way.”
And feast they did. They had all eaten very well that winter, but that night they ate enough that Alex declared, “I might not need to eat until the snow falls again.”
The next few days, the monks were in a flurry of activity, cleaning, sweeping, preparing rooms for the summer.
Alex, Senta-eh, and Werda-ak meanwhile prepared for their journey. Their horses were well rested, as were the three humans and Monda-ak. They hadn’t realized how worn down by the first leg of their journey they had been, but now humans and animals alike were revitalized. Even Werda-ak’s leg, which Alex had feared would never be strong again, had been restored.
On the afternoon of the third day, a thundering rumble echoed through the monastery that dwarfed anything that had happened to that point. Tokin-ak found Alex and said, “That is the thaw. It is too late in the day for you to leave, but I’m sure you will want to leave early in the morning so you can have as much daylight as possible to make your way down off the mountain. Trema-ak will leave with you and take you to the passage.”
Alex felt tears well up in his eyes. He knew the odds that he would ever see Tokin-ak again were long. As much as the old man had frustrated Alex, he had grown to love him. Alex stepped to him and put an arm on each shoulder.
“I will never forget you.”
“As well you should not,” the old man said, blind eyes wrinkling with a smile.
Chapter Twenty-Six
East Redux
Alex waved goodbye to Trema-ak, and pointed his horse’s nose down the trail. The descent was steep and the trail muddy, but this was a terrain these horses were built for. Slowly, picking their way through switchbacks one plodding step at a time, they made their way down the mountainside.
Alex was simply glad to be moving. Before he had left, he had asked Tokin-ak if the odd telepathy he had with Lanta-eh meant he could advise them on where they should go. Tokin-ak turned so that he was facing due east, then extended his right hand out to two o’clock on the dial.
Not exactly a GPS map, but Alex knew it was th
e best he was going to get, and it confirmed to him that he was heading in the right direction.
Tokin-ak had further advised him to travel as straight east as was feasible until they ran into the inland sea that divided what had once been the United States of America. From there, he could either simply follow along the banks of body of water or, if he was fortunate, perhaps get a ride on a boat heading south.
Alex had asked him if that way would be faster than traveling on horseback.
“Faster?” the old man had answered. “Perhaps. Safer? Absolutely.”
Alex hadn’t inquired further as to what dangers would present themselves if they were on horseback—geographic, human, or animal.
As they rode, Alex considered that last possibility. The first moments after he had stepped out of the door, he had been attacked by karak-ta—giant, vulture-like birds. After that, though, all the animals he had seen were of a preposterous size, including a twenty-foot-tall grizzly bear, but at least they were recognizable as giant versions of their twentieth century predecessors.
Until he arrived at Matori-ah and met the dandra-ta. Those had nothing in common with anything in Alex’s time outside of myths or legends. That led Alex to wonder if he would be seeing more undiscovered creatures as they traveled on.
Like many of the problems Alex anticipated, there was nothing he could do about it, so he filed it away until he could take some action.
Daylight had been growing longer every day for months, and Alex was anxious to put as many miles under their hooves as possible. Based on their experience on the first leg of their journey, he guessed they would never be this well-rested, well-fed, and healthy again until they returned to Winten-ah.
So, even as they reached the first plateau at the bottom of the mountain at dusk, they pushed on.
As they dropped down, the constant freezing wind and temperatures that they had grown accustomed to in Hakun-ah abated. It wasn’t toasty warm, but the clothes that the tailors of Matori-ah had made them were well able to keep them warm.
A nearly-full moon came out, and between the light from that and the incredible array of stars, they could see almost as well as in daylight. Ahead, Alex saw the perfect place to stop for the night—a stand of trees beside a small stream.
Alex loosed Monda-ak to find himself dinner, and they set up camp. Nothing elaborate, just watering the horses and setting them loose to graze, then laying out a fire and their blankets.
Monda-ak returned in record time, and laid his muzzle against Alex’s leg, who sat beside the fire chewing a piece of jerky. That was unusual—the dog ordinarily didn’t return until he had found his fill.
The horses whinnied, which they almost never did during the night.
The combination of Monda-ak and the horses both acting nervous, and the fact that they were out in the open, put Alex on edge.
“Tssst,” he said to Senta-eh and Werda-ak, but they had both noticed the same. Senta-eh slid her bow out and strung it, nocking an arrow. Werda-ak grabbed his short stabbing knife and moved away from the campfire a bit where his eyes could better adjust to the dark. Alex slipped the leather thong of his stone hammer over his wrist and peered into the darkness.
“I think I see,” Werda-ak started, then suddenly stumbled backwards toward the fire. Alex caught him just before he fell into the flames and helped him stand upright. Before he could ask what was wrong, a flash of movement caught his eye.
At first, he couldn’t make sense of it. It was as if a piece of the night itself was moving toward him. Then, he saw the glint of firelight catch against two black eyes.
A black bear.
It seemed totally unconcerned by the presence of humans or fire. It walked casually up to the camp until it was inside the glow of the fire. It sat on its haunches, and sniffed the air.
Monda-ak growled, deep and dangerous.
Alex had seen black bears before, and of course, this one was at least double the size of any he had ever seen or heard of.
It didn’t seem angry, or perturbed, but mostly just curious.
Alex was flummoxed. He didn’t want a bear for a dinner guest, but he also didn’t want to change its apparently mellow mood by acting aggressively toward it.
Senta-eh had her bowstring pulled back to her ear and her arrow didn’t waver, but she didn’t release it.
The bear dropped down on all fours, then wandered off again into the night.
Alex lowered his hammer, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, he said, “Go ahead and lay down. I’ll take first watch and wake you guys up if he comes back.”
“Oh sure, I can stare death in the face then lay down and go to sleep,” Werda-ak said.
“Maybe you can’t, but I can,” Senta-eh said and laid down, closing her eyes, and pretending to instantly go to sleep.
Werda-ak smiled at the pantomime, but it relaxed him and he laid down, too.
So many ways to die in this world. If that bear hadn’t just had a good meal, or if he’d had a fight with Mrs. Bear, we’d have been fighting for our lives. At best. If he’d just come charging in all teeth and claws, we might not have even had that chance. We can never let our guard down.
For a long time after the bear wandered away, Monda-ak stood and stared off into the blackness of the night. He didn’t growl, the hair on his neck didn’t stand up. He just stood and stared. Finally, Alex slapped him on the butt and said, “It’s okay now, big fella. Come on over here.” That seemed to break the spell he was under, and he came and laid beside Alex, covering his entire lap with his enormous head.
Alex ruffled his ears, and stared up into the night. The months in Hakun-ah had felt like a prison at first, but now he was glad they had taken the time. It had been like a reset button on the mission. When the whole thing had started, he had done it because he had given an oath, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was resentful and not giving all of what he had. Somehow, in the months since then, that feeling had evaporated, and he saw things more clearly.
He wanted desperately to rescue Lanta-eh. Wherever she went, she seemed to effortlessly perform miracles. She was important to people he cared about. But, just as important to him was to return Werda-ak and Senta-eh safely home. When he had asked them to accompany him on this journey, he’d had no idea how big a commitment he was asking of them, but they had known, and they had agreed instantly.
He sat and watched the moon move slowly across the sky well past the time he should have woken Senta-eh to take her watch. He was content to sit quietly and have Monda-ak slobber on him.
Finally, just an hour or two before first light, Senta-eh woke with a start. Her internal clock told her it was already early morning.
She poked at the fire, which had nearly gone out, then added a few more sticks of wood before sitting down next to Alex.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
Alex pointed to the enormous head on his lap. “I couldn’t stand to wake him.”
“You probably could have screamed and shouted and you wouldn’t have woken him.”
“True enough,” Alex said with a smile. Monda-ak was a famously deep sleeper.
“What’s our plan, now?” she asked, “Or, do I want to know?”
“It’s simple from here. We go east until we hit the big water. According to Tokin-ak, we want to try to catch a ride on a boat. He said walking south can be dangerous.”
“I don’t know if I want to see what that man considers dangerous. I saw him take on those two thugs without a thought.”
“Right. So, I think we’ll try and catch a lift on a boat. I’m sure there will be some kind of price to pay. There always is. Maybe I need to climb a high cliff and steal an eagle’s egg, or dive to the bottom of the big water and retrieve a treasure chest. Whatever it is, we’ll do it.”
“I think you will, Manta-ak. Whatever is asked of you.”
They sat in companionable silence for another hour, then watched the sky turn pink in the east.
Finally, Alex turned to Senta-eh
. “Let’s follow the sunrise.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Versa-eh
They rode straight through the noon meal on that second day off the mountain. Alex knew it was ridiculous—that he couldn’t make up the months lost stuck on the mountain in a single hard ride—but still, he was happy to be moving.
Dusk had begun to settle in when they saw a collection of buildings in the distance. Alex was wary of each new civilization they came to because each one slowed them down. He was tempted to chart a course off the path and make a circular pass, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to pick this trail up again, and he didn’t want to end up having to backtrack.
Spending the winter in Batama-ah had been restful, and even though it was still only spring, Alex was already aware that the warm weather wouldn’t last forever. He hoped to make it to Lusta-ah, rescue Lanta-eh—with said rescue still being a complete blank in his plans—and return home to Winten-ah, all before winter.
If he had stopped to lay that time frame out in his mind, he would have realized how unlikely that was. That was precisely why he hadn’t done so.
Typically, a village was formed in some sort of defensible position, with many small dwelling spots and perhaps one or two larger rooms or buildings where everyone could meet.
The village ahead ran counter to that. For one, it sat completely in the open. For another, there was one large building and only a scattering of other, smaller structures around it.
Communal living, maybe?
That was more in line with how they lived in Winten-ah, where families shared caves with each other and there were large separate sleeping caves for unattached men and women, and where all meals were served communally.
