by D. H. Dunn
“There was no way to know.” Val put his hand on Zel’s shoulder. “The Tempest has never pushed the water past the forest before, let alone into the caves.”
Kelzin slapped Nima on the back, her frail webbed hand making little impression but bringing a smile to Nima’s face.
“We never had my boy and Nima before!” she cried, her cracked voice carrying into the wind. “Oh, if only Oli could have seen this.”
“See the forest underwater?” Zel asked, scratching his head.
“No,” Kelzin said, keeping one arm around Nima while she put the other around her son. “See that perhaps he was right. Change, events that have not happened before, perhaps they can be a good thing.” She sighed into the wind. “Were he here, my husband. There are things I would say to my Oli.”
Zel nodded, looking out into the storm. “What happens after this Calm could be different too. I think . . . I think I am happy that I do not know what is next.” He stood, walking toward the cave entrance, folding his arms. “I am getting quite cold, though. I am not as accustomed to air and adventure as you two are. I will head inside, perhaps arrange for some dinner.”
“Perhaps you could arrange to help an old woman find dinner as well?” Kelzin asked, putting her arm out.
Zel took her arm with a laugh and the pair walked back into the depths of the cave, leaving Nima and Val alone with the storm and the Scrye.
“Change,” Nima said, looking down at the small child. Though the wind still blew around them, the baby looked peaceful and safe, as if she felt Nima’s arms could protect her from anything. “I wonder if we can change what will happen to her.”
Nima became aware that Val was sitting right next to her, his shoulder against hers. He leaned in to look at the child, pulling the cloth hood a bit more over her face.
“Perhaps, as my mother said. There are many truths I have been taught that have been proven false since I have met you, Nima. Many new possibilities seem open to me now.”
The Scrye blinked back up at them, no longer suckling on the milk fruit. Nima set the drained rind of the fruit aside, the child burping loud enough to be heard against the wind.
They laughed together, the Scrye’s eyes moving back and forth between their faces.
“If we are to change her fate, perhaps we should start with her name,” Val said. “It no longer seems fair to call her the Scrye. To my people, the Scrye is a goddess whose purpose is to tell us when the Tempest is here. It is now all around us.”
“A name?” Nima said, pushing herself a little closer toward Val, enjoying his proximity. The child continued to look at Nima, the dark eyes showing her own reflection. “A name for a goddess?”
“We make our own choices, right?” Val asked with a chuckle. “This girl’s options are now as open as yours and mine are. We define our future, so let us help define hers.”
Nima looked out into the storm, the wind pushing the clouds into shapes that were both dark and beautiful. Beneath them the sea pounded against Varesta’s lower reaches, introducing itself to a new land. Varesta was similar to Everest, home of the goddess Chomolungma, and yet so different. Perhaps Varesta needed a protector of its own.
“Lhamu,” Nima said, looking down into the girl’s eyes again. Her eyelids were dropping as she continued to stare up at Nima. “In the language of my people, it means ‘goddess,’ just as you said.”
“I think it is perfect.” Val reached out again, running one finger across the child’s cheek. “Lhamu, it is well to meet you.”
“Lhamu.” The raspy voice of Val’s mother came from behind them, full of happiness. She held a bowl of steaming vegetables in her hands, the aroma reminding Nima of the stews she used to get in Dorjee’s tent back in Nepal.
“It is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Lhamu looked up at Nima and Kelzin, the infant’s tiny mouth opening in an enormous yawn.
“Do you think an old woman could hold the child?” Kelzin asked. “There are many good stories I could tell you, Lhamu.”
Nima smiled and offered the baby up to the old woman, her trembling, webbed hands accepting the child eagerly.
“It is getting cold out here,” Nima said. “Perhaps you could take her inside the cave and tell her your tales? Tales from our elders have great power.”
“I would be honored.” Kelzin said with a smile, the crystal on her head brightening. “I know - I shall tell you the tale of when Val saw his first mistwhale, little one.” Lhamu nestled into the old woman’s arms and together they walked back into the cave.
Val and Nima sat quietly for a time, no sounds save the winds and the waves crashing into the mountain far below them.
“It may be several weeks or months before the Calm comes,” he said. “What will you do next? I never really asked you why or how you came here, but you have changed all of our lives. Will you leave now, go back to your own world?”
Nima took a deep breath, feeling the cool evening air filling her lungs. The idea of going back to Nepal, even if it were possible, hadn’t even crossed her mind.
“Well, I don’t know how to get back to my world.” Nima smiled, placing her hand on Val’s. “But, if your people would have me, I think I’d like to stay. If I am wanted?”
“It is . . . what I would want, Nima. I would want that very much.”
Nima looked at Val, seeing the last rays of the sunset peeking through the mixture of clouds to reflect in his dark eyes. She leaned toward him, moving instinctively closer until her lips touched his. She felt his hand on her cheek and he pulled her closer. Losing herself in the kiss, a new warmth passed through her.
She kept her eyes closed and reveled in the moment. She had never imagined kissing a man, never thought of having the feelings she could sense growing within her for Val.
She had hoped this world would provide her an adventure, but now she had found something else. Something she had never expected.
She enjoyed the closeness, the softness and safety of being this near a person who cared for her, new possibilities opening up to her mind.
Perhaps this could be her future. The people of Caenola had great change in front of them, maybe she could be a part of that change. Maybe together, she and Val could find an answer for Lhamu, maybe that could change too.
Perhaps she, Val, and Lhamu could build a life here, something she could never have imagined doing back in Nepal. One word kept echoing in her mind as she found herself holding on to Val, leaning into him.
Perhaps.
A sound caught her attention and she allowed her eyes to flicker open, just for a moment but it was enough.
A shape was moving out of the cave and toward the mountain edge. Dark clothed, it kept to the shadows. The shape was heavily bundled and carried a large pack. It was too tall to be any Caenolan.
Nima broke off the kiss, Val’s hand still on her cheek.
“Tanira,” she said, directing her voice to the opposite edge of the ledge where Tanira froze in response. “Where are you going?”
The cool comfort of Val’s hand fell away from her cheek. Nima could see Tanira had her waist pack on as well, knives sheathed at her belt, and gloves on her hands.
“I am sorry,” Tanira said. “I did not mean to interrupt. I was simply going to get some air.”
“You are dressed differently,” Val said, standing.
Even in the low light of the sunset Nima could see enough detail to note the heavy boots, the wool cap hanging out of her pack. The back of Nima’s neck began to tighten at the sight of Tanira’s obvious unease. Something was wrong here.
“Val is right. You are dressed for climbing, two full packs, climbing gear. Where are you going?” Nima took one step closer to Tanira, the woman backing up an equal measure.
The tall woman put up her hands, her gaze shifting to the ground. “I am sorry, Nima. I have to go, I must leave. I did not wish to prolong or complicate things with a farewell.”
Tanira looked back up from her feet
into Nima’s eyes, a look Nima was beginning to recognize. An attempt to see if Nima was accepting what she was being told.
She did not. She could feel the frustration growing inside her again, her mind bringing her back to the canoe, back to a dagger flung at her by someone who claimed to be her friend.
Someone she had trusted completely, but she could not afford to do so anymore.
“No,” Nima said. “You simply wanted to leave without explaining yourself.”
“Explaining myself?” Tanira’s eyes widened, her cheeks filling with color as she spread her arms wide. “I must explain myself to you now, Nima?”
“You have not been honest with me before. You never really explained why you attacked me and left us with the Thartark.”
Tanira took a step closer. “I rescued you from the Thartark! You two would not even be alive if not for me.”
Val laughed, standing at Nima’s side. “You mean you rescued her,” he said. “She rescued me, and saved the Scrye and got us back to Caenola.”
Tanira glared at Val. “I warned your people--”
“And injured Zelquan when he got in your way.”
“I helped you against the grun in the forest--”
“And lied to us about your intentions.” Nima took a step closer to Tanira. “Whatever you took from Sessgrenimath--”
“Sessgrenimath!” Val interrupted from behind Nima. The sun had finished setting, the dim evening light casting the three of them as shadows against the side of the mountain. “That was another thing you did not tell us about! Freeing that creature is what is causing this stronger Tempest, forcing my people higher on the mountain than they have ever been, greater risk than we have ever seen. To say nothing of what happened to the Thartark.”
Tanira scowled back at Val, her outrage apparent despite the low light.
“You mourn the Thartark? Your enemy, who has plagued your people for generations is now defeated! Homeless, no longer a threat. The cycle is broken. Your father would have been pleased with that outcome!”
Val stayed at the edge of the ledge, the sun’s remaining light casting him in a crimson shadow.
“You did not know my father or what would please him! That is not our legacy, our wish, or our doing! It is yours. We wanted to resist, not exterminate.”
“Then you are fools!” Tanira spat her words. “Fools to live under their boot. You resist by defeating them, not waiting for them to act! When you see the threat, you respond. That is how you protect those you care for, Caenolan. Not by cowering or by talking. By acting.”
Nima took another step forward, she was half the distance across the ledge to Tanira. She put her hands out, hoping for some opportunity to resolve this. The fire in Tanira’s eyes was growing, yet she was still here. Was she here because she wanted Nima to stop her, or to win some sort of moral argument?
Nima needed to change the conversation.
She looked at the full packs Tanira was wearing, even fuller than she had seen before. This was not a person who was coming back.
“Tanira, whatever you took from Sessgrenimath, you still have it. I am sure it is in that pack over your shoulder. What is it? Is it something to protect your people?”
Tanira’s hand went to the large pack, turning away from Nima protectively.
“No. There is nothing left to say here. I am through arguing with you.”
Tanira took a step toward the far side of the ledge, where the climbing route to the summit began.
“Tanira!” Nima shouted, running toward her. She stopped when the woman turned and glared at her, one hand running back to the blade at her belt.
Tanira’s capacity to hurt people, even her friends, in the name of her Line had been proven.
What have I helped her do? Who will be hurt next?
Yet there still might be time. Time to talk to her, understand more about this Line and why it was so important. Maybe she could still keep her from hurting anyone else.
“Tanira, please.” Nima tried to lower her voice, trying to stabilize the intensity in Tanira’s eyes.
She felt her own tension rising despite herself, her breathing quicken. She knew her next words were likely the last chance she would have to prevent Tanira from leaving. If she did, Nima wasn’t sure what she would do.
“I can’t let you leave until I know more about what you plan to do. You are not leaving just to leave, you are still on your quest. What do you intend? Don’t tell me it is for the Line. I don’t want to hear about the Line. I want to hear from you. From my friend!”
Tanira turned away from the route, taking several steps toward Nima and stopping just in front of her. One hand was on the hilt of her blade now, shaking as it gripped the handle.
Nima felt a mixture of shame and frustration rising inside her, her hopes to calm the situation fading as rapidly as her heart pounded.
“You? You cannot allow me to leave?” Tanira’s eyes were wide, her lips pulled back in anger. “You think you can prevent it? I have spared you until now Nima, tried to honor my debt to you. That debt is paid. If you block the Line I will--”
Tanira whirled suddenly as Val emerged from the shadows behind her, reaching for her belt. Her blade flashed out in a blur.
Val fell in an instant, clutching his stomach. On the ground around him, the snow quickly turned from white to red.
“Val!” Nima screamed, rushing past Tanira to his side.
She knelt in the snow, rolling him onto his back. The whole front of his tunic was damp and red. Gently, Nima moved his head into her lap. Something green was leaking out of his mouth.
She was screaming, she knew she was, but it felt like someone else was doing it. The crystal in Val’s head was glowing, but the light was dimming quickly.
His eyes were open, still blinking. She felt his webbed hand take hers, gripping her fingers weakly.
There were words above her. A voice. Tanira, stammering.
“I--I did not,” the words from Tanira said. “He was trying to--I did not mean for this--”
Her words bounced off her, meaningless.
“Val!” Nima yelled again, squeezing his hand harder. This could not be happening. She was shaking, trembling against the wrongness of it all.
“Nima!”
A new voice, not Tanira. Her mind struggled to process what was happening. She looked up, tearing her view away from Val with a lurch.
Tanira was gone. A lone figure stood in the middle of the snowy ledge gaping at the two of them. Zelquan.
“Get help!” Nima yelled at him. “Zel, get help now!”
She turned back to Val as he started coughing, more of the green fluid coming out of his mouth in spurts. She pulled off her cloak, putting it over his stomach. He grunted in pain, the cloth immediately soaking in his blood.
“Help!” she screamed, looking out into the long shadows of the sunset, not knowing if Zel or anyone else could hear her. Her mind struggled trying to determine what to do. She wished anyone could be here to help. Drew, Wanda, Pasang. Even Ama.
A hand touched her cheek, she looked down to Val’s smile.
His face was so pale, the green tints now gone white. His drying scales were clearly visible, thick, emerald trickles of liquid now coming from his mouth. The light from his crystal was so dim it was difficult to see.
“She was . . .” His voice was weak, muffled and wet through the fluid filling his mouth. “She was going to hurt you.”
His hand fell slowly from her face. She squeezed his other one tightly, her view of him becoming blurred by tears.
“I could see it.” He coughed again. “It was like she said. I could not wait. I needed to act, to protect you. I was too slow.”
“Val, just hang on. Zel is getting someone. Getting help. You’re going to be all right.”
He made a sound, a small bubble forming in his mouth. It may have been a laugh. He was smiling, his eyes squinting at her.
“I do not.” He coughed again. “I do not think it matters
.”
She stroked his head, feeling the dryness of his skin under his hair. She was frozen and wanted to run. Trembling with both fury and fear.
She was losing him.
“Val, please.” Her voice sounded no stronger than his. Weak and useless against the growing darkness around them.
There was pressure from his hand again. His fingers interlocking with hers.
“Lhamu,” he said. “Take care of her. She is part of our journey. Bring her with you, take her from here. As we planned.”
“I will,” she said. “I promise.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, her chest was heaving. Her mind brought up images in rapid succession, falling on her like an avalanche.
Wanda laughing with her, climbing through the icefall on Everest. Then her face covered in anger, smashing Kater’s head against the red crystal, shattering it in an explosion.
Kaditula telling her she would make a good scout, smiling at her as he called the worms. Telling her to tell Merin he loved her as he died to save them.
Her mother glaring at her through the window of her room, going to tend to Nima’s chores, not knowing she was walking to her death.
They were gone, and they were never coming back. This was not one of grandfather’s books.
He coughed again, his face now as white as the snow. His crystal contained only a ghost of light inside; so dim its color was unrecognizable.
His eyes closed, then opened again.
“Val,” she sobbed. “Please don’t leave me. Please. I just found you.”
His hand squeezed hers again, he grunted with the effort. When he spoke, it was just a whisper.
“This is the time we had. It was good. My best time. There is another shore for me. I leave this one with a good view. Looking upon you.”
Shaking, his hand reached up to touch her cheek with one finger.
“My sun,” he said, smiling. “My sun setting over the sea.”
His hand sank slowly back to the ground. His eyelids closed once, then opened again. The dim light in his forehead went out, leaving Nima alone on the ledge in shadow and darkness.
Chapter 29
The stars had come out, peeking through brief patches in the clouds as they sped by. Somewhere above them, the moon shined, but the aggression of the Tempest’s departing storm kept it hidden.
