Fractured Everest Box Set

by D. H. Dunn

  Right next to her, the large eye of the mistwhale stared back at her in the moonlight, looking like a dinner plate put on its side. The canoe Val was working to untie was attached to the massive, roundish creature by ropes and nets, a matching canoe on the other side of the beast.

  Nima could not tell if the mistwhale was happy or nervous, but the fog erupting from its many pores was only making things harder. The ropes and wood she stood on were damp and slippery, and visibility was becoming poor.

  “No sign of the guards,” Tanira whispered. “Near as I can determine through this fog.”

  Tanira also balanced on one pole as it floated in the water, though she made it look much easier than Nima was finding it. She supposed balance might be part of her knight’s training.

  “The rope is fighting me a bit,” Val said, wrestling with a knot. “Zel is better with these lines than I. There, I almost have the canoe secured.”

  Nima thought the strange craft looked a lot like a hat for the roundish shape of the whale. Two wooden canoes were attached, one on each side of the whale’s head. Or body? To Nima, the body and head seemed to be the same thing. Val had already swum around the beast and secured the canoe on the far side.

  “Done,” he said, leaping in. He held out a hand to Nima, who took it as he helped her onboard. His hand was warm despite the night air. The canoe platform was narrow, but more stable than Nima had expected.

  With a quick vault, Tanira deftly leaped from her pole across the water, landing in the canoe as if it were meters wide.

  “Show off,” Nima whispered with a smile.

  Tanira grinned and shrugged, quickly taking a seat at the rear of the craft.

  “Haste, Val,” Tanira said. “The guards will return soon.”

  “I still don’t see the point of guards if no one will fight,” Nima muttered.

  Val knelt forward, the crystal on his head pulsing. After a moment, the blue crystal on the front of the mistwhale pulsed in time with Val’s. Nima felt a thrust from behind, and they quickly pushed away from the structure of poles and lines. In front of them only the moon reflecting on the sea’s horizon.

  “I do not understand how this is going to work,” Val said. His crystal continued to pulse, the whale’s matching. Nima had worried Val might need to focus on guiding the creature, but he seemed to be able to speak as well.

  “Trust in Nima,” Tanira said from behind her. “It is a good plan.”

  “Well, thank you, but it isn’t a plan,” Nima said. “It is an idea. We’ll need to come up with a plan when we get there.”

  “How will we do this?” Val asked. Nima watched him place one hand outside the wood of the canoe, dragging it absently in the water. Nima could smell the salt of the sea stronger here, the mist from the waves mingling with the fog coming from the many holes atop the whale.

  “These Thartark don’t expect you to do anything like this,” Nima said. “So, I don’t think they will have any lookouts or guards. No one has ever stood up to them. I’m hoping we can stay off shore on this whale here.” She rubbed the skin of the whale, it felt like wet leather, reminding her of a sow left out in the rain. “We can watch them from there and maybe find a weakness.”

  “That might be logical,” Val said. “It is hard to think in such ways.”

  “Don’t forget,” Nima said with a laugh, “we have a knight with us. The Thartark cannot stand against that!”

  Nima grinned and looked back at Tanira. The woman looked off into the distance for a moment before a small smile crossed her face, though her eyes did not seem to share the emotion.

  The mistwhale surged tirelessly out into the ocean, setting a breakneck pace for what felt like hours.

  Nima had quickly moved to the bow of their small canoe. The waves crashed upon the front of the vessel, sending sprays of foam and seawater into her face, Nima laughing with delight each time.

  The dark slowly gave way to light, the horizon growing brighter as the whale surged on. Nima gasped as the sun crested above the waves for the first time, a ball of flame rising over the rolling azure sea.

  The sky was nearly as blue as the water, no land or vessel in sight other than their own. The wind blew through her hair as the foam from the waves danced upon her smiling cheeks.

  This was where she needed to be, at the forefront of the adventure. It was glorious.

  She looked over her shoulder at her companions, Val smiling back. It was a small grin, but it was getting bigger each time she peeked back at him. For a time, his view was locked back on Caenola, Val seeming certain that an angry army of fishermen would show up in pursuit. Judging by what they had seen of Val’s people, both she and Tanira had thought that possibility unlikely. With Val as an exception, the people of Caenola seemed to have little initiative.

  “Too willing to accept their lot, too fearful of danger to change it,” Tanira had said. Nima had seen plenty of Westerners judge her own people and their culture, yet it was hard to disagree with Tanira.

  The knight had stayed at the back of the canoe, at times peppering Val with questions about the mistwhale and the island of the Thartark, other times remaining quiet and practicing her vow of the Line. For the past hour, she had been peering into the water with one of her blades in her hand.

  She suddenly thrust the blade into the water, pulling it back with a fish impaled on its tip.

  Nima clapped, Tanira standing steadily on the canoe’s rocking surface for a mock bow. The pink-and-green fish wriggled at the end of her weapon, its length as long as her arm.

  “That is a good trick!” Val said as Tanira sat. She removed the fish from her weapon, dropping it on the deck where it flopped and wriggled.

  “I have been watching them. This kind, they come to the surface often. I have been waiting to see if I could catch one. It is a shame I have no fire with which to cook it.”

  “Cooked fish?” Val asked, making a disgusted face. “I can’t imagine eating a fish cooked. Sea greens of course, but not fish.”

  “Fish were rare in my village,” Nima said. “There was no river nearby, and I have never had ocean fish. I’ve never even seen an ocean!”

  “Neither have I,” Tanira said. “There is lore that my world has them, but I have not seen them, nor do I know any who have.”

  “Yet you have spoken of climbing great mountains, of seeing the whiteness atop them,” Val said. “All I have ever known is the sea, the great forest and the caves on the lower mountain.”

  For a time, they spoke of the various landscapes of their worlds, the conversation slowly drifting away along with the clouds in the sky.

  Val moved to the center of the canoe and spent time with his hands on the whale’s side, whispering something too low for Nima to hear.

  “What are you doing, Val?”

  She noticed that his crystal was pulsing, the light increasing and falling in steady intervals.

  “I am communicating with the whale,” he said. “Keeping it on course, assuring it that all will be well.”

  “You can talk to it with your mind?”

  “Something like that,” Val said. “I can hear its thoughts, and it can hear mine. It is something some of my people can do, but only with the mistwhales.”

  Nima wondered what it must be like to be able to hear another’s thoughts in her head. Sometimes she thought she knew what Pasang or Drew had been thinking, but to truly communicate without speaking seemed amazing.

  Tanira went back to looking out across the ocean from the rear of their craft, her mouth moving as she traced her tattoo with one hand, her other gripping her silver knife.

  As the sunset gave way to the dim purple of the evening, Nima noticed a new light on the horizon. At first it bobbed and flowed, sometimes visible and other times not. After a few minutes it became persistent, a thin point of yellow light that seemed to go straight up into the sky.

  “The Pillar,” Val said. He had crept close to Nima and was peering over her shoulder. She could feel his bre
ath on the back of her ear. “I have only heard tales of it.”

  “What is it?” Nima asked, staring at the sight. It seemed to be a tower of light, unwavering as it split the sky and headed to the stars. The horizon was now too dark to see its origin. Val shifted even closer to her as he allowed Tanira more room at the back of the canoe.

  “It marks the island of the Thartark,” Val said. “I have dreamed of it often, wondering what it might truly look like.”

  “Did the Thartark construct it?” Tanira asked from behind them. “Is it some sort of beacon to guide their ships?”

  “No,” Val said. “It is a mystery to them as well. They have named it the Pillar, but they do not know where it came from or why it exists. There is a small peak at the top of their island and it emanates from there.”

  “This small peak?” Tanira asked. “Does it have a name? Do you know if they have climbed it?”

  Nima was intrigued by the idea of climbing the mountain. A mountain with a beam of light at the top! It was a shame that their mission to recover the Scrye would likely keep them from doing so.

  “They have not climbed it,” Val said. “They fear it greatly and believe it is the doorway to their underworld. It is odd to me that they would draw such a connection to light, but the sun and the heat of their island burns them without the oil they need from us. They do seem to favor the night.”

  “Sessgrenimath,” Tanira whispered, her tone reverent. She frowned as Nima and Val looked at her questioningly. “Related to my quest,” she said, looking down at the floor of the canoe. “I can speak no more of it.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Nima asked Val.

  “I asked the Thartark emissary when last I guided one,” Val said.

  “I am impressed!” Nima clapped Val’s hand, which rested on her shoulder. She held it there for a moment before releasing. “That is much bolder than most of your people.”

  “Thank you.” Val smiled. “I was just curious, so I decided to ask him. It gave me a little hope to learn that there is something the Thartark fear.”

  “They will fear more than that after we are done!” Nima said, striking the side of the canoe for emphasis. “They will fear you!”

  She waited, expecting Tanira to join her in her boast, but she did not. Looking back, she saw Tanira had moved back to the rear of the boat and was again reciting her vow of the Line, slowly tracing the tattoo on her forehead in the dim light of the Pillar.

  “I hope so,” Val said. “It is hard to imagine what will happen if we succeed. If we recover the Scrye from them, it could show my people that the Thartark are not invincible. The elders might be open to new ideas, even resistance.”

  “We will see tomorrow,” Nima said.

  Val’s hope was palpable, and it ran through her as well. She was coursing through the sea, on a boat tied to a whale, in the company of a knight and a brave man. It was the adventure she had hoped for, a story worthy of her grandfather and his books.

  There was one doubt growing in her, but it was one she did not want to listen to. She could feel it in the strange silences Tanira was starting to effect, in the darkness around the light of the Pillar. More than anything else, she could feel it in the press of the waves as they went by, bringing them ever closer to their goal.

  She had no idea how they would steal back the Scrye from the Thartark.

  When that goal presented itself, with luck she would see a route to it. As Val’s hand rested on her own, she felt strong. She could only hope that strength would lead them all together to the summit, and not into a crevasse.

  Nima woke to the sound of Val’s shouting. She was not sure what he was saying, and she could not recall falling asleep. Her last memory was looking at the light of the Pillar while the waves crashed over her, Val sitting next to her and doing the same.

  It was dawn now, and the brightness of the light hurt her eyes. She squinted into the spray of the sea, seeing a small, dark shape on the horizon. The island of the Thartark! Her heart quickened at the sight of it, even as a small blur on the distance. Val shouted again, words she did not understand. Struggling into a sitting position, she turned around to look behind her.

  Val was stroking the side of the mistwhale, shouting strange words into what might have been its ears. The crystal on his head glowed a steady bright red, the beast’s own crystal now matching the hue. Past him she could see Tanira standing at the stern, staring off to Nima’s left. She followed the knight’s gaze and the reason for Val’s shouting became clear.

  Pushing through the waves, much closer to them than the island, was a sailing vessel. It was larger than any of the fishing boats or mistwhale-led craft Nima had seen at Caenola. The gray sails were cast full in the wind, and she could make out thin, shadowed forms moving around the deck. Thartark she would guess, at least a dozen of them.

  Her heart began to pound.

  “Val!” she shouted. She didn’t need confirmation on her theory, she could see her answer in his dark eyes. “Can we outrun them?” As she asked the question, her mind was flooded with complications. Even if they could, where would they go? Back to Caenola?

  Val gritted his teeth, turning toward Nima and away from the whale for a moment. “Not if they stay with the wind! We’ve got to get the whale on a course that pits the winds against them.”

  “That would lead us away from the island!” Tanira shouted from the rear of the canoe. Her blades were out, though Nima couldn’t imagine what use they would be. Perhaps they brought her strength.

  Val was focused on the whale, and the beast’s course slowly turned away from the island and the approaching ship, heading into the wind.

  The breeze and spray whipped into Nima’s face, but she barely noticed. Her attention was on Tanira, blades in hand and eyes wide. A chill ran down her spine, the same chill she often experienced in the Khumbu Icefall, just before an avalanche.

  Something was wrong here, something more than the Thartark.

  “If you can hold this course, Val, you will escape them?” Tanira asked, her eyes intense as they fell on Nima. Her jaw was clenched, her hands trembling as they held her blades.

  Val rubbed both of his hands on the whale, the creature bellowing and leaking mist from the effort.

  “Yes,” he huffed. “I do not know where we will go, but as long as we keep the wind in our face we can outrun them.”

  Nima watched as a darkness came over Tanira’s face. She took a step forward, the sun glinting off the blades held in her shaking hands.

  “Stop the whale,” she said to Val.

  Val took a quick look back at Tanira in the aft of the boat, but kept his hands on the whale while shaking his head.

  “What?” he cried, “That is madness! They will capture us, all will be lost!”

  Nima gasped, not wanting to believe what she was seeing. Tanira stepped to the center of the boat, menace in her voice.

  “Stop the whale, Valaen, or I will have to kill you.”

  Nima stared at Tanira, just a few feet of canoe now separating them. Kill him? What was she saying? Her heart began to pound in her chest, her mind struggling to understand what was happening.

  The seas chopped and bounced as the mistwhale labored against the winds at Val’s urging. He still had both hands on the whale, his red crystal brilliant with light. “Nima!” Val shouted over the spray. “What do I do?”

  Nima took an unsteady step toward Tanira. The woman looked at ease balanced on the moving platform of the canoe. Her smile was gone, the light in her eyes that Nima had found so charming was out. She could see only darkness now, darkness and a determined clenching of teeth.

  “Tanira,” Nima said. She was forced into a half-crouch, holding on to the sides of the canoe as she advanced slowly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but let’s talk about this. I’m sure you don’t mean you’ll kill Val.”

  “I guard the Line,” Tanira said flatly, as if that was an answer. “Stop the whale.”

  “Don’t
stop, Val,” Nima said, taking another crouched step forward. She wished Drew were here, he might know what to say. Talking was her only chance, she couldn’t hope to fight a trained knight when she could barely keep herself in the boat. “Tanira, you seem confused. Something is wrong. Remember, we’re friends.”

  “I honor the Line.” Tanira took a step toward Nima. Her hands pulled back behind her head, the blades spinning in her fingers.

  Nima searched the woman’s eyes for some sign of hope but found none. Behind her, she could see the Thartark’s ship slowly dwindling in the distance, along with the island.

  “He is dead if he does not stop now.”

  “I am already dead!” Val yelled back. “This is my only hope to restore myself to my people.”

  Nima looked back at Val. His face forward, his hands on the whale’s skin.

  “Kill me if you have to,” he yelled back to them. “I will not yield.”

  For a moment, Nima could see a storm rolling in Tanira’s eyes. For just a second, her lip quivered, her hands stopped twirling their knives. She swayed with the movement of the canoe, staring past Nima at the Caenolan.

  “Tanira, please,” Nima said, forcing herself to a standing position, her legs wobbling in the boat. “We are your friends. Trust us.” Perhaps she could be reached, perhaps this could be resolved.

  Nima’s stomach clenched with worry as she watched Tanira’s reaction. The knight kept looking forward, her knives starting to twirl once again.

  “I trust the Line,” Tanira said quietly. Her face hardening again as her gaze swung back to Nima.

  Nima put out her hand, reaching for Tanira, hoping to touch her and remind her that they were friends.

  Tanira reacted faster than Nima’s eye could follow.

  Nima’s upper thigh exploded in pain, Tanira’s silver knife suddenly embedded there. Nima dropped to one knee, her other hand clutching her leg.

  She looked up at Tanira, tears welling in her eyes. How could she? Isn’t she a brave knight? Wasn’t she my friend?