by D. H. Dunn
“Your weapon did injure the creature,” Wanda said, her voice gaining a curious energy. “Without it, we might all be dead.”
“If we’re lucky, it has a few shots left, then the chargepack will be dead. There’s no way to recharge it here. Besides, it hurt Vihrut a lot more the last time I used it on him. He’s getting tougher somehow.”
“He has changed, altered himself.” Kaditula lay on the stone, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily.
“Yes,” Ham said while leaning against the wall, holding his side. “The beast is bigger. More muscle. I don’t know how he could have grown so quickly.”
Merin approached from the campsite, Nima walking alongside. Drew noted the slowness in Nima’s steps, the slight way she leaned against Merin. She had a few visible cuts and bruises, but the young Sherpa woman seemed more exhausted than injured.
“This one refused to rest,” Merin said with a laugh. “Cheating death was not enough, she needed to come and see if you two were all right.”
“Drew,” Nima said, her voice filled with more fear than he had heard from her before. Still, he could see the relief shining in her eyes. “Are you sure you are all right.”
“It looks worse than it is,” Drew said, trying to laugh. It came out a bit less mirthful than he had hoped. “I am amazed to see you are still with us. When that beast hit you, I thought you’d had it―we both did.”
Wanda looked away from Nima at Drew’s statement, while Merin peeled back his bandage and examined his wound, which was covered in a mixture of Kad’s mushroom paste and Vihrut’s bile.
Merin handed Kad a small wooden spoon from her belt. “Dig out that red substance from his wound as best you can, Kad. As he does so, Nima please reapply new green mushroom.”
Nima nodded, looking over at Wanda. “Wanda? Are you all right? I was very worried about you both.”
“I am. . . .” Wanda stopped. She was still looking at her notepad, but her pencil froze for a moment. “I am fine. Uninjured.” Her pencil resumed its movement.
“I must go back to the camp,” Merin said. “There are many injured from Vihrut’s attack. Kad, please see to them until you are ready.”
Kad nodded, already using the spoon to clean out the deep cuts in Drew’s shoulder. Drew hissed through his teeth, but the pain began to dull as soon as Nima began applying the paste.
“Horrible beast, Vihrut,” Kaditula said. “A curse upon it.”
“What―what was that monster?” Nima asked. “What is Vihrut?” Nima continued to work the mushroom paste into Drew’s arm, even as he winced from Kad’s attentions. His left arm had begun to fade from his perception, no longer painful, but numb. He was not sure he liked that sensation more, but the receding pain allowed him better focus.
“None of us know,” Ham said. “We did not see him for many weeks after arriving here. We had seen the other worms―we met them almost immediately. They are a threat, but usually a predictable one. We came to know their patterns, behaviors.”
“Properly cooked, they can even be eaten,” Kaditula offered. “We had people exploring the Under. Looking for ways back to our Out, looking for supplies, water. I am a scout, that was my trade for our spell-queen. I taught them.” Drew noticed a change in Kad’s voice, some mix of emotions. “They did well the first few weeks.” he said. “Then they began to vanish.”
“At first, we suspected the Others,” Ham said. “They usually left us alone. We had few supplies or skills to offer them. In truth, we have stolen from them more often than the reverse.”
“I went into the Under, to search,” Kad continued. “The scouts were mine, I needed to recover them. In the lower tunnels and caverns, I found nothing. Near the entrance to the Great Chasm that leads to Upala, I found nothing. Then, I started to search higher into the Under.”
Merin returned from the camp, wordlessly taking up a place behind her husband.
Drew watched the smile fade from Kad’s face. He sat, taking a long breath before continuing. “I found . . . pieces of the scouts I had trained. Parts.”
Merin put her hand onto her husband’s shoulders.
Ham left his position on the wall and walked back toward the main camp. He walked past his rifle and left it laying on the stone where he had thrown it.
“The first sight of Vihrut was mine,” Kad said. “I was scouting the upper tunnels of the Under, tracking the scouts. Near a portal, one that seemed to radiate a sickness, I came upon him. At first, I thought he was simply a larger worm, perhaps the size of two together. Even then, he was unlike the others, though. He had the same window upon his belly that you saw today, clear like water.”
“No wings?” Drew asked. “No clawed arms?” He held his numb arm, which Nima had ceased her ministrations on. She sat between Drew and Wanda, the three transfixed by Kaditula’s tale.
“No,” Kad said. “Vihrut is different, I cannot say why. He seems to grow at unusual speed, gaining new limbs and features.”
“It was found near the portal to Ham’s world,” Merin said, keeping her hands on Kad’s shoulders. “There is a magic in his world, he calls it ‘radiation.’ Ham thinks this magic changed a worm with its sorcery, creating Vihrut.”
“It matters not where or why,” Kad said. “I named him on sight for the serpent that he seemed to be. The worms may be from this Under, but Vihrut is something else. Perhaps he is punishment from some demon, or some angry god.”
“It is an animal,” Wanda said. “No more punishment than an avalanche or a thunderstorm. Perhaps there are more of these creatures and you are simply seeing different animals instead of the same individual.”
“Vihrut came at me when I found him,” Kaditula said, keeping the smile on his face as he turned to look at Wanda. “I cut him with my blade. Through his flesh it went without resistance. He still bore that scar today.”
“I saw that scar,” Drew said. “Much closer than I’d like to. Still, after what Ham hit him with, it’s hard to believe a knife could cut those scales.”
“He did not have the scales then,” Kaditula said. “No limbs, no scales. No wings.”
“Perhaps it is simply―”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nima said, interrupting Wanda “Vihrut is gone for now. You have helped us, and we are grateful for that. I could have . . .” She paused for a moment, a catch in her throat. “We are alive because of you.” She folded her arms, covering her wounded limb with her healthy one. She looked squarely at Kad and Merin. “Kad, I need to know where these Others have Pasang. That is why I am here. If you know where he is, take me to him. Show me.”
As she stood, Drew eyed the burns on her arms warily, noting the unsteadiness in her stance. “Nima,” Drew said, slowly pushing himself to his feet. His side complained, but he ignored it. “You’re exhausted, we all are. We’re all wounded. We need to rest.”
“Drew is right,” Wanda said, still sitting. She had pulled out her notepad again and was writing in it, the end of her pencil chewed to the nub.
“Rest then, if you need it,” Nima said. “I will find these Others myself. I am sure someone will guide me.” She marched toward the center of the camp. As she passed between Kad and Merin, Kad reached out, lightly holding the torn sleeve of her jacket with a strong arm.
“I will guide you, loyal sister of Pasang,” he said. “Of the scouts, only I remain. Only I know the way. I will take you.”
Nima stopped but kept her back to the group. Drew slowly stepped toward them, concern building. Even if they found these Others, Nima and Kad would be in no shape to deal with them. Neither was he, but he wasn’t about to let her go alone. The challenge was in convincing Nima to wait. He was about to speak when the smile crossed Kad’s face again.
“But you must trade with me,” the small man said. “Or I will not help. And there is none but Kaditula who can help you. You will rest, that is my trade. You will let Merin and me tend to you, and then I will take you. After you have rested.”
Drew walked past
Kad, stopping to face Nima. Her jaw was set, her eyes looked past him. He knew that look, the same determined look that allowed her to push past ice pillars and snowfields that would terrify others. He knelt and took her hand in his.
“Please, little sister,” Drew said. “One day, just one more day. He is here and we will find him. I promise you.”
Her face stayed frozen for a moment, then she gave a slight nod. It was subtle, but Drew could see the muscles in her shoulders relax. After a moment, she looked up at him.
“First thing in the morning,” she said. “I’ll leave without you if you sleep in.” Her mouth pulled up the tiniest bit, giving Drew a smile that was for him alone, a treasure he appreciated.
“I’ll be up to wake you,” Drew said.
“Come,” Kad said, pointing toward the camp. “We have sleeping places for all of you. After a sleep, I will take you to your brother.”
Nima allowed the smaller man to put his arm around her and, leaning on him, she slowly headed toward the tents.
Merin walked a few steps behind, taking one look back at Drew and Wanda, her expression unreadable. She then turned away, each of the trio limping as they walked together.
“Drew,” Wanda said, still sitting. “We cannot simply look for Nima’s brother, no matter how much that might mean to you both. Even if we find him, we may not be able to free him. If these Others have him and they take us as well, we will have no options at all. To say nothing of finding our way home.”
“I know,” Drew said.
There were more questions, more things to worry about than simply Pasang. There were other questions as well, questions Wanda was not asking aloud. Like, what about this power Wanda herself had come to Everest in search of, this discovery she sought to restore her country? To say nothing of her father, and his legacy.
Drew had concerns of his own, wondering if more clues to his mystery woman might be somewhere in the Under. The thread still floated in front his vision, bouncing this way and that but never steadying in a specific direction. Was she in here, somehow? Or did one of these portals lead to her?
There was more than Pasang to worry about.
Reaching down, he picked up a crimson scale, left behind with Vihrut’s departure. It glinted dully, reflecting the light of a nearby portal. It radiated a low level of heat, like an ember removed from a fireplace.
“We can’t do any more today,” Drew said. “Whatever we decide, let’s do it with clear heads. When we wake, we can sit together with Nima and plan our next steps. Agreed?”
Wanda stood, evidencing no sign of fatigue or injury. Stowing her notebook and pencil in her satchel, she turned. She paused for a moment with an intake of breath, then began to walk toward the main camp, her pace slow and steady.
“You and Nima have been a great help,” Wanda said, her voice bouncing off the rocky walls around them. “You have got me where I needed to go. You have protected me, and I you. Yet we have different goals now. I cannot allow my goals to be superseded. Do not presume that we are . . . a group.”
Drew watched her walk away, Vihrut’s scale still warm in his palm.
11
“Those that reach their goals, perish.”
—Reinhold Messner
Wanda watched each step she took in the low light of the camp, ensuring each foot fell lightly onto the stone. Around her were a half-dozen makeshift tents, all filled with sleeping occupants. Outside the yurt-like structures, several more people slept in the open, their bodies protected from the hard rock floor by thin cloth beds. Closest to the water, Drew and Nima slept on the cold stone itself, their heads propped against their packs. Looking like a pair of matched silverware, they reminded her of the siblings they pretended to be.
Memories of younger days with her own sisters threatened to overtake her, but she ran past them as she always did. If she allowed that sadness to reach her, she might never climb out. There was too much work to do, she could honor them better by not giving in to her grief.
Grief could wait.
She watched the pair, both sleeping soundly on the stone floor of the cavern as if it were a plush mattress. It was true she had only known them a short few days, yet the three of them had been through so much together already. Life and death, in a very literal way, to say nothing of the impossible world they had all been transported to.
She felt a chill grow around her heart, thinking of Nima flying after being struck by Vihrut. At that moment Wanda had been sure the young Sherpa woman was dead, killed in a random violent act. It was too reminiscent of pains best left behind her.
That near loss had not felt like the loss of her sisters or mother, but she could not deny it had an impact. For a moment, she had worried. She had cared, and that was a problem.
She had watched the way Drew cared for Nima and had looked out for Wanda as well. How angry he had been at her for killing Jang and his men. More than angry, disappointed. He was a good man, and he seemed to want to see the good in Wanda as well.
Even now, looking at them both, she felt protective of them. They were in great danger here, and if she were not careful she might come to worry for them as if they were family.
But Nima and Drew were not family, she reminded herself. She had a family, and they were gone. It was up to her to make sure their deaths had not been for nothing, she had to protect the same love they had all shared. The love of their homeland.
There was no room in her heart to worry about someone else. She had her cause, just as Drew and Nima had theirs. If she let her feelings for them enter the equation, she might falter in her mission. It would be hard to close herself off to them, but she was willing to make that sacrifice.
This was not about her happiness.
By her watch, she had slept for about four hours. Longer than she often did, even back in her warm bed in Warsaw. Sleep was one of life’s inconveniences, much like food. A necessary construct, but one to be tolerated and managed, not reveled in as many seemed to. Her Grandmother’s pastries were an exception.
Her purpose was clear, unblemished by emotional attachments. Wanda had only her father’s legacy to think of now, and the future of her home.
The portals were the key to that future. If she could understand them, harness their technology and give it to her own people. Her mind raced at the possibilities. It could be a great boon to the resistance she’d dreamed of joining, a great means of leverage against the Soviets. Perhaps even payment to the Americans, in trade for her country’s liberation. So many options, all of them positive.
She crossed over the small stream running through the chamber. Stationed near the worm holes they had used earlier, two men stood watch. Both were asleep. It was not surprising, most of the camp’s people were refugees, not soldiers. Amongst the whole group, only Ham gave the impression of military training.
Her first thought had been to get back to the room of portals they had seen as Kaditula led them to the camp. It had a large collection of portals in a small area, which would allow for better study. Additionally, it was isolated. She could work in peace, and only she would be at risk if she decided to experiment.
It was unlikely she’d get past the sleeping guards though. She also had no idea how she could climb up the worm hole they had slid down, nor could she be certain the whole chamber was even accessible anymore. It could be blocked by the magma they had encountered.
She decided to start with the smaller number of portals within the rear of the vast camp chamber itself, selecting one farthest from the gathered tents. She’d only be able to observe these portals, but observation was the first step of any experiment. She needed to know the ground she’d be standing on. If there were any new worm holes in the back of the cavern, they might be worth exploring.
The light was low here, but her eyes were good. Consistent with all the others she had seen, the portal was oval and about the size of a standard doorway. The mists inside spun slowly, following a circular pattern. The colors were primarily shades of gr
een, the direction of the spin changing at somewhat regular intervals.
Wanda flipped to the next page of her notepad, losing herself in the study of the phenomena. She could imagine her father doing the same, for a moment wondering what it would be like to compare notes with him.
“You work hard to study in secret.”
The female voice came from behind her, Wanda dropped her pencil in surprise, watching as it rolled out of sight into the darkness. She felt a flash of frustration at being caught off guard.
The tall form of Merin stepped out of the shadows, looking at her with an expression Wanda interpreted as bemused. She took a moment to calm her breathing before responding.
“Merin. You startled me. I was lost in my work.” She fished into her satchel for another pencil, hoping she would not hear other voices behind her. Hopefully Merin came alone.
“Yes, I imagine I did,” Merin said, stepping into Wanda’s view as she leaned against the side of the cavern, standing close to one side of the swirling mist. “You expected no one to see you. Perhaps you are doing more than studying the portals? What about your friends?”
“They were just my guides up the mountain,” Wanda said. It was a necessary correction for both.
“I see,” Merin said. “Yet you do have a common purpose, no? You all come from the same Out, and to there you must return. The girl came for her brother, and the man seeks to aid her. Now I see that is not what you came for, is it?”
Wanda shook her head. There was no reason to keep secrets, especially from Merin. There was apparently much this woman might know.
“I came for this,” Wanda said, her fingers caressing the cold, damp wall of rock surrounding the portal. She was careful to keep her hands on the stone and away from the swirling mists. “My home, it has been . . .” She paused, a catch in her throat robbing her of speech. “My nation has been conquered. I seek the means to restore it.”
“Then we are much alike. I too have a home that has been taken, and I too must find a way back. It is well that we have met, we may aid each other. Sisters of the same cause, no?”
