by Jon F. Merz
Siben smiled. "You are looking at an example of what we call tumo."
"Tumo?"
Siben nodded. "The initiate sits without his clothes under a blanket of wet, cold cotton cloths. Using only his mind, he increases his body temperature to the point where he can literally dry the sheets."
Wirek’s eyebrows jumped. "Amazing."
Tiny remained unconvinced. "You’ve got to be kidding me."
"I assure you, it is not a joke," said Siben. "Watch carefully."
And as we did, steam began rising from the sheets covering the monk. After twenty minutes of this, he stood, walked calmly back toward the monastery and past us. As he did so, I felt the sheets and found them dry, almost warm to the touch.
Tiny looked shocked. "Incredible."
Siben smiled again. "Shall we go and have a look at your target?"
"Please."
We followed him along a carefully concealed walkway overlooking much of the valley below. What had been green fields yesterday were now snow-covered sheets of white canvas.
"We control most of this mountain here," said Siben. "Over the years, we’ve carefully constructed walkways and tunnels such that it is impossible to see them unless you know precisely where to go. And if you happen to stumble onto them, or are a potential threat, we also employ a number of what you would call ‘countermeasures.’"
A cold wind snapped up a fresh burst of snow into our faces. Wirek sighed and wiped his eyes. "I miss the warm weather back home."
I looked at him. "What warm weather? It’s February and it sucks back in Boston."
"Yeah, but Spring is coming and that’s good enough for me right now."
Tiny cleared his throat. "Guys."
We stopped.
Siben pointed across the valley. "There. Across the valley is where the old school for your kind was." He looked at Wirek. "Was it also a monastery?"
"Of sorts," said Wirek. "Of sorts."
Siben nodded. "From what I heard last night, the woman you are after has a number of followers with her. Most are from the local region it would seem. But my scouts also tell me there are some who look as you do. Westerners." He looked at me. "And my scouts say there is also a small boy with them."
I breathed a sigh of relief. That was good news. If Jack hadn’t been with Arvella, there was no use in going on as far as I was concerned. But his being here meant our assumptions back in Boston had been correct. I wasn’t sure if that realization comforted me much.
"How many are with her in there?"
"Almost twenty." Siben regarded me for a minute. "Tall odds, wouldn’t you say? There are but three of you."
I nodded. "Yeah, but we don’t have any choice. Odds aren’t something I’ve ever really tried to get on the good side of. I just accept them and do my job regardless."
"But even you must admit that there are times when help is something you would not reject."
"Absolutely. Which is why I’m lucky on this trip."
"Lucky?"
I nodded. "I’ve got these two jokers along to keep me company."
"Three against twenty?" Siben chuckled. "And you call that lucky. You have an interesting perspective, Lawson. I appreciate your view of things."
"Are you driving at something, Siben?"
He shrugged. "An offer of help if you want it. Some of us would go with you."
I shook my head. "You don’t know what you’d be facing in there. We do. It’s better if we handle it alone."
"We know of your kind. We know how to kill them."
"I’d like to do this without your help, if possible. They’ve already killed a fair number of humans in this valley. I would not want any more to join those numbers."
"You’re sure?"
Part of me wanted to say no. Part of me wanted to say, cool come along and help me kill some bad-ass vampires who have kidnapped a small kid. But these guys weren’t even supposed to know we existed. And they definitely weren’t supposed to be helping us kill our own kind. So, while part of me dearly wished I could say yes, a bigger part of me knew the answer would always be no.
"Thanks anyway. We’ll handle it alone."
"As you wish. I insist on at least having one of us show the way inside. Otherwise you’ll be spotted as soon as you enter the valley and your entire trip will have been for nothing."
"All right. We’ll take a guide. But only on the condition that as soon as we reach the temple, he comes back here. I don’t want any stragglers. Once we get close, anyone is a potential enemy."
Siben nodded. "Agreed."
I looked across the valley at what looked like just another mountain. But looking real close, I could see the detailed carvings that made it stand out. I doubted if you were up close that you’d notice the peculiar lines, but being here I could see it plainly. I looked at Wirek.
"How old did you say the school was?"
"Ages. They started teaching Invokers there over a thousand years ago."
"And they closed it down when?"
"Maybe twenty years back. When Arvella first came to the Council. They’d been wanting to change locations for years, but she’d insisted on remaining in the Himalayas. Part of me used to think she got the Council posting just because it would facilitate the school’s move."
"Maybe you’re right."
He shrugged. "Maybe. Doesn’t matter much now. We’re still here, after all."
Siben pointed. "Look there. By that snow drift. Do you see?"
I scanned left to right, finally coming on to the larger bank of snow. A patch of what looked like brown stood out.
"What is it?"
"One of your kind, I would think," said Siben. "Or it could be a human with a strong tolerance for sitting in cold snow for hours. Either way, it is a sentry like the ones I told you about. There are several scattered about the valley. I fear our ruse to mislead them may not have worked."
"Can your guide get us past them without confrontation?"
"Yes."
I nodded. "Good. Then we’ll go tonight. We don’t have much time left."
Chapter Thirty
According to Wirek, darkness slid over the top of Annapurna like a bad hangover following a night of slamming back tequila. I guessed he had enough personal experience to know.
Tiny, Wirek, our guide, and I waited for the darkness to ooze down to the valley floor before we moved out.
Siben had graciously given us a change of clothes that were darker than what we’d brought along. They seemed warmer as well.
"Where you’re going," he’d said, "you’ll need every piece of concealment you can get."
Our guide, Chudao, a wiry twig of a guy who looked no older than twenty, took point. He guided us out of the mountain temple’s relative safety and down the rocky pathways. Snow crunched underfoot, grinding our footfalls against loose rocks and slippery lichen as we made our way to the valley below.
My bokken sat strapped across my back for ease of movement, while my tanto lay ready in its sheath. I followed behind Chudao and behind me came Tiny. Wirek brought up the rear.
Chudao moved slow.
But he guided us past piles of loose shale hidden under refreezing snow and ice. The time we spent moving quietly was worth it. If anyone heard us coming, we’d be dead before we got anywhere near rescuing Jack.
Sweat covered all of us by the time we reached the valley, despite the falling temperatures. A flash of a breeze washed over us, making goose bumps spring to life on my skin. The steady seep of adrenaline dripping into my bloodstream like an IV, increased as my pounding heart ticked up a notch.
Chudao bent, examining the ground. Snow that had melted during the day’s sunlight was now freezing up again. We’d have to speed our process or risk slipping on new ice during the ascent. And we couldn’t afford any injuries.
Chudao sensed the urgency in my eyes. We moved faster.
We were approaching the position of the sentry Siben pointed out earlier. Chudao didn’t slow down. What if the sentry saw us? What if
he raised an alarm?
Still, Chudao refused to slow down.
Worry got the best of me and I finally tugged on his sleeve.
He turned and looked at me. I frowned and mouthed "what the hell?"
He just smiled.
And kept moving.
And then I saw him.
The sentry?
No.
A big bald head and brilliant smile appeared.
Siben.
He waved. I looked behind him. The body of the sentry lay askew in the snow. Was he unconscious or had Siben killed him? I looked at Siben but he merely bowed.
Chudao gestured for us to keep moving.
As we walked I marveled at Siben’s skill. In the short span of time between when he gave us the change of clothes and when we began the trek, Siben had come down here and taken out the sentry. Pretty damned impressive for an old guy.
The trail now wound its way back uphill, off the level valley floor. The walking became tricky again. My foot slipped off some loose pebbles concealed under some of the snow and sent them skipping off larger boulders, spilling back down toward Wirek.
I looked back.
Wirek frowned at me and put a finger to his lips.
Well, let him come up and try being quiet. I turned and kept moving.
Chudao’s hand shot into the air a second later.
We stopped – and shrank off the trail into the side of the mountain, using the shadows to conceal us.
Chudao turned and told me to wait while he went ahead.
I’m not much for entrusting my fate to someone I only met about twenty minutes ago. But since I’d only recently demonstrated my inability to move quietly, I’d shut up and sit tight while Chudao checked out the trail ahead.
We watched him slip up the trail. He rounded a corner.
And disappeared.
The sound of abrupt movement filled the night air, but the wind drowned out any detail. Then a few small rocks came tumbling down the trail toward us. We ducked further into the shadows, holding our breath.
Chudao appeared a moment later and waved us on.
We rounded the bend.
Another sentry lay off to the side of the trail. I wondered if he was knocked out or dead. But then a flash of lightning lit the area up.
A stake jutted out of the sentry’s heart.
Dead.
Shit, I’d forgotten we’d be facing vampires. In my haste to get here I’d focused only on Arvella and Petrov. I’d completely forgotten about her followers.
Chudao was quickly earning my respect. Most humans aren’t much of a match for vampires. We’re tough to kill, stronger than humans, and able to withstand all sorts of damage.
But Chudao had only taken a moment to kill this guy.
The relative ease with which Siben and his sect killed was shaking up my previous perspective on Buddhist monks. I thought they were all sworn against taking any life. Somehow, Siben and his sect were different. If we had time, I’m sure it would have made for interesting conversation.
The trail leveled off some, but kept winding around bend after bend. Each twist made me more nervous than the last and I knew we’d be getting closer to the entrance of Arvella’s fortress.
Chudao increased the distance between us. I assumed he wanted to be able to take out any threat quickly. But no other sentries stood watch along the trail.
We stopped in a small cul de sac for a three minute break. We need to catch our wind. Wirek passed up his flask and I took a quick hit, before passing it on to Tiny. I’d need a lot of energy before this night was over. Thankfully, Wirek had remembered to bring his stash.
Tiny wiped his mouth on his sleeve and glanced skyward. And frowned. I looked up. The constellations were closer together. Hell, they were almost touching.
The hunter and the prey.
Closer than ever before.
And the new vampire millennium was about to dawn.
Chudao gestured our break was over. Tiny passed the flask back to Wirek and we kept walking. Over the howl of staccato wind gusts, I thought I heard something far off in the distance.
It sounded like a cry.
Like a wounded animal.
Chudao stopped, seemed to listen, and then continued on.
I wanted to stop him and ask what the hell had made that noise. Memories of Tiny’s Abominable snowman tales filled my head again. Being ambushed by Yeti before we got to rescue Jack would really suck.
Another sound permeated the night air. This time I could make out a type of chanting. But it wasn’t the same chanting that we’d heard back at Siben’s gompa.
This was the old language.
Taluk.
The tongue of the vampire.
Older then most of the oldest languages on earth, it was impossibly tainted by eons of dialect changes, variations of script, and even grammar structure. Each generation until recently put their own spin on it, making it more difficult to pass down to the next.
Nowadays, not many of my kind even bothered to learn it beyond what we were taught in school. Even then, it wasn’t much good by the time we graduated.
The volume of chanting grew as we drew nearer to another bend. Chudao called a halt and explained that he was going on ahead again. I shook my head – motioned that I wanted to go with him. He thought about it for a minute and then nodded.
Smart guy.
Underfoot, the trail changed from loose rocks and ice to hard-packed dirt, bits of lichen, tufts of yellow grass and more snow.Chudao moved with his hands held out in front of him, almost as if he was walking a tightrope. I kept myself hunched low, with my weight over my feet. My knees stayed deeply bent, as I rocked forward in a rolling motion. I tried to remember some of the lessons in stealth movement I’d learned over the years.
Chudao slowed as we crested the bend.
And then I saw it.
A giant stone door that looked as though it had been carved from a massive slab of the mountain itself barred our way. Above the door, ancient Taluk script haloed the frame, ringing it like some Christmas garland.
But now was not the time to be jolly.
Not unless I was able to count Arvella and Petrov’s deaths as a present from the gods.
I nodded to Chudao. He disappeared back down the trail to get Tiny and Wirek. I leaned against the mountain, my ear pressed into the cold hard rock. Muffled chanting filled my ears, emanating from deep inside the ancient school.
Who knew how many vampires over the years had learned to call forth the spirits? Who knew what kind of untold power sat ready to be unleashed upon the world?
Tiny and Wirek rolled up. Wirek studied the door.
I whispered in his ear. "Can you make it out?"
He nodded. "It’s an old saying. ‘Karchat mag dalho dyub jugan mag anhar.’"
I sighed. "Would you mind translating that for me?"
He frowned. "Still studying?"
"Well, gee, yeah, you know – when I have free time and all."
Wirek shook his head. "It means ‘only those who master self master others.’ It’s the motto of the Invoker school."
"Does it say anything about how to get in?"
"No."
Nifty. I looked at Chudao. He held up his hands. He’d done his part getting us this far. I almost felt sorry to have to say good-bye to him here.
But we were going to have to go ahead alone. I didn’t want humans involved in the coming bloodshed if we could avoid it. Chudao would be safer back at Siben’s temple, anyway.
He bowed to each of us and the simply seemed to disappear in the darkness of the mountain.
Tiny came up unsheathing his kukri. "Are we ready to do this, or what?"
"I hope so." I looked at Wirek who suddenly seemed to come to life.
"Of course," he said.
I leaned forward. "What?"
"It’s been years since I visited here. My old memory is going, I think-"
"Wirek-"
"-never mind, it’s not import
ant, " he said. "I know what to do."
"Know what do-?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I remember how to get inside."
Chapter Thirty-One
"You’ll both have to stand back."
Tiny and I gave Wirek some room to work. He stepped closer to the giant stone door and ran his hands over the coarse rock, skimming the cool, moist surface. He placed his ear close to it. Finally satisfied, he stood back and moved to the right of the door, again peering closely at the structure.
I saw his mouth move but heard only what sounded like a murmur come out.
Tiny and I waited.
Wirek waited.
Nothing happened.
Wirek frowned. "Shit."
I stepped forward. "Is there a problem?"
"Yeah." Wirek sighed. "Looks like the old coot must have changed the damned password."
"Makes sense, doesn’t it?" asked Tiny. "I mean, if she knows anything about Wirek’s background, him having been here before and all. Of course, she’d change the password."
"Yeah," I said. "But where the hell does this leave us? We’re still outside and we need to get in there." Over the constant breezes, I could still hear the muffled chanting. "Sounds like they’re getting the ceremony started in there. We don’t have time to play guessing games out here while Jack’s in there."
Wirek had turned his attention back to the door. He seemed to be muttering under his breath. I gave him a minute and then cleared my throat.
"What do you think?"
"What I think, Lawson, is that we are fucked. This old door had the same password for hundreds of years. And now she’s gone and changed it on us. Damned inconsiderate of her."
"Welcome to my world," I said. "Problems always come with the territory."
"This is an awfully big problem, Lawson."
"Yeah. I know. You got any ideas?"
"I’m thinking, I’m thinking." Wirek leaned against the door while Tiny stood watch. "Arvella was one of the longest-serving headmistresses the Invoker school ever had. Makes sense she’d know how to change anything about this place. But what would she change it to? Would it be something related to the ceremony she’s going to perform? Could be. Might also be something connected with this guy Petrov you keep mentioning. Hell, it could really be anything at all."
