by D. H. Dunn
At the far end of the plain, nearly directly opposite Drew was a structure. Perfectly smooth and triangular in shape, it appeared to be a pyramid about ten feet tall. In the center of one of its walls was an opening, also in the shape of a triangle. Bright, orange light shone from the opening, bright enough that at this distance Drew could not see what might lay inside.
Footsteps in the snow led from where Drew stood directly to the pyramid. If Sinar had been here, this was the only sign he had left. There was no evidence of a battle or other magical event.
Merin crested just after him, he heard her confused gasp. Upala joined them, breaking the silence.
“By the Hero,” she said, her voice filled with a mix of wonder and awe. “The temple of Orami Feram! It is real. By the Hero, it is real! In truth this is Sirapothi!”
Snow kicked in Drew’s face as Merin suddenly ran toward the opening of the pyramid.
“Merin!” Drew and Upala yelled in unison. If Merin heard them, she gave no indication. He put his hand out to help Upala up to the summit.
Once on the surface, they ran after her. Merin was already halfway across the plain, her figure becoming obscured by the driving wind and ice.
Drew scanned the snow in front of him, a habit he had developed in the Khumbu even if there was little chance of a crevasse here. As he grew closer to the orange light of the pyramid opening, his eyes were drawn to one of the small hills of snow, about midway across the plain. There was something about the shape of it that caused him to slow to a jog, then stop completely.
Drew’s mind clicked the strange shapes under the snow together, the realization that the mound was a person coming to him all at once.
He ran to it, kneeling down at the snow mound, noticing the figure faintly shivering from within.
He reached into the snow, grabbing the prone body by its back and pulling it forward, the snow falling away to reveal a face he thought he might never see again.
“Nima!” he shouted.
He pulled her close, seeing the blueness just setting in on her skin, her eyes shut. Putting his ear near her mouth, he could hear her faint breath. She was alive, though from the looks of her she had been beaten and then left for dead in the snow.
Upala ran up next to him and kneeled with him. “Alive?”
The winds whipping the snow around them as he held the small Sherpa. He nodded. “Not for long though. We need to get her inside whatever that is. The temple of your hero.”
He saw the concern in Upala’s eyes and shared it. Sinar was in there somewhere, the man who had come all this way just to kill Nima and in the end walked right by her.
“I can warm her!” Upala shouted over the wind. “But not here. She’s too far gone!”
Drew looked at the open entrance to the Hero’s temple. He didn’t want to give the Manad Vhan outcast another chance at his target, but there was little choice.
A second set of prints were fresh in the snow, evidence that Merin had already run into the temple as well.
He gently picked Nima up, cradling her in his arms. Upala took off her outer cloak and wrapped it around Nima as they walked toward the triangular opening of the temple. The bright-orange interior beckoned even as a golden spear of yellow light streamed into the sky from the pyramid’s tip, bound for whatever purpose, Drew couldn’t care less.
The inside of the Hero’s temple was not what Upala had expected. The ancient texts had been very vague on the actual details, but she had imagined something grand and triumphant, huge columns and sweeping ceilings. Something worthy of Orami Feram and his amazing deeds.
Perhaps that lay farther inside, but the entry chamber was little more than a large triangular room with an opening out to Varesta on one wall, and an opposite wall with dozens of darkened passages. The light source was coming from a large, orange crystal affixed into the room’s ceiling. It gave off a small amount of warmth, but not enough to help Drew’s friend.
Drew had quickly taken the woman to the far wall, nearest one of the many dark passages.
“Can you produce fire at this altitude? Enough at least to warm her I mean?” his voice echoed through the room.
Another concern. Upala looked back at Drew, care and worry written all over his face. He was not worried about Sinar or Merin anymore, only his friend.
“I do not know.”
Again, Drew had come up with a use for her Manad Vhan abilities she had not considered. A way to help, not hurt. She took off her gloves and began to focus. She pushed a small amount of energy into her hands, Drew nearly jumping as the fire shot from her fingers.
That was unexpected. On her home world, she had been able to occasionally call small amounts of fire into her hands, but only at the highest altitudes. Here on Sirapothi her abilities seemed somehow intensified, more powerful.
Extinguishing the flame, she bit her lip and concentrated, trying to will less energy, less power. She thought of candles with the wicks nearly spent, of the low glow of a log near the end of a long burn. She felt her fingers and palms warm, a slight red glow coming to her flesh but no flame.
Kneeling down next to the woman, she put her hands upon her, starting with Nima’s own hands. Drew began to remove Nima’s outer clothing, to expose more of her skin to Upala’s warming touch.
As she ran her fingers over the Sherpa, Upala began to sense more of the woman’s self. It was a slow process, like seeing something out of the corner of her eye.
Nima was someone who believed in goodness and decency, but she had been hurt recently. A loss marked her, a pain and anger that Upala could sense was in conflict with Nima’s core. Upala wondered if what she was experiencing was a version of what Sinar had done with Drew. His strange ability that allowed Sinar find a path to woman, hoping to travel to her world so that his own might end.
She heard a soft cough, Nima’s eyes fluttering.
Drew took the woman’s hands into his own as Upala began to move her heat to other areas. She realized as she looked at Drew, she felt love for him but not the manic passion of the rasi sakta, not the artificial drive that had been pushed into her. She saw the decency in the man and her heart still beat powerfully with the thought of him, but the thoughts were her own. She smiled.
“Val!” Nima suddenly shouted, making a weak attempt to sit up. “Val!” Her voice echoed through the temple as she repeated the name.
“Nima.” Drew clasped Nima’s hand with both of his own, his own tone lower. “Nima, it’s Drew. I’m here, little sister. We’ve got you.”
The woman’s eyes fluttered again, then her lids closed. Color was beginning to return to her face, calming Upala’s nerves slightly. She looked over at Drew, needing him to focus. For the moment Nima was safe, but there was more here to worry about.
“Drew, Sinar is in the temple somewhere.” She looked over her shoulder, at the wall containing at least a dozen passages. The crazed Manad Vhan could be down any of them, just waiting in the darkness for the right moment. Upala said a silent prayer to the Hero that he hadn’t found Merin.
“Yeah,” Drew said, his eyes still on Nima, whose breathing was becoming steadier. Even as a healthier tone was returning to her skin, the bruises on her face were becoming more obvious. If Sinar hadn’t attacked Nima, someone else had.
“Was Sinar not planning to kill her?” Upala whispered, hoping the unconscious Sherpa would not hear her. “How could he just walk by the only reason he is here?”
“I got an idea of how his abilities work when he and I were . . . connected.” Drew whispered back. She watched as his eyes bounced between looking at Nima and looking at her. “I think he can sense her if she is awake, he’s drawn to our conscious thoughts. Just like he found me back on your world. Whoever laid Nima out and let her be buried in the snow . . . well, that’s the only reason she’s alive now.”
“The only reason she is alive now is you,” Upala said, putting her hand on Drew’s. It was cooler than hers due to the heat she was still gently pushing into her
flesh, but it was strong. “Merin, myself. We all owe you, Drew. Not only have you helped me use my abilities in ways I never thought of, you have help me see myself and the world differently.”
He reached up, brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. His eyes looked sad, though she was afraid to ask why.
“Nima saved me before,” Drew said. “She’s like a sister to me. You’ve saved me, Merin has too. You’ve all given me a reason, something to move on from . . . from mistakes I made. A new chance.”
An echo shot through the room from one of the many passages in the far wall, the sound of metal scraping against stone.
“Sinar will be back there,” Upala said. “We cannot afford to leave your friend alone in her state. When he comes for us, do you have a strategy?”
Upala looked around the room as Drew thought, trying to see it with eyes different than her own, Kater’s perhaps. No obvious tactics came to her mind, Sinar’s power seemed to be overwhelming.
“I don’t know,” Drew said. “He’s got more experience at this than you and certainly more than me. There’s two of us though.”
“Approach him from different directions then?” Upala asked. “He is used to fighting Rakhum, perhaps he is inexperienced fighting someone who can combat him. Still, I was no match for him when I encountered him in the library.”
“If we’re lucky, he won’t be expecting that I can help you.” Drew laughed. “Assuming I can. I guess we’ll just have to try and--”
Drew was cut off by Nima’s sudden cry. She sat straight up, her eyes wide and her hand pointing behind them. As a pair, Drew and Upala turned towards the sound, certain what they would see.
Sinar stood at the entrance of the darkened passageway, his legs in a wide stance and both his hands aflame. He gave them a wide grin, his white teeth dancing inside the darkness of his beard. All ideas and battle strategies evaporated in Upala’s mind as he stepped forward. She was frozen, uncertainty and doubt flooding her thoughts until she saw the light-blue energy shining from Sinar’s chest.
He’d been run through with a long blade, its shaft glowing with magical azure light. Sinar locked eyes with Upala, his smile widening further as blood trickled from his mouth.
“Finally,” he said in a throaty gasp, then slid off the blade and crumpled to the floor at their feet.
Behind Sinar was a woman clad in what looked like an energy field of shifting colors, conforming to her body like armor. Her dark face wore a severe expression, the intensity of her eyes piercing even the distortions of the shield surrounding her. Upala had seen that intensity coming from similar eyes, on the bridge of Nalam Wast.
“Tanira,” Nima whispered from behind them.
Upala watched as the woman took one hand, tracing the shape of a triangle on her forehead as she advanced on the trio, blue sparks cracking from the Hero’s Blade.
The agent of the Line had come.
Chapter 32
Since regaining consciousness, Nima found she could not hear much more than a murmur over the ringing in her ears, but she could still see clearly in the strange, orange light of the room she found herself in.
She felt safety in Drew’s proximity, even if she couldn’t imagine how he could possibly be here. Seeing the strange woman Upala at his side, some magic of that woman’s world must be the answer.
She could not make out what was being said, and her muscles felt far too tired to move, leaving Nima little option but to stay slumped against the cold, stone wall and stare at the impossibility in front of her. The last person she ever wanted to see again, looking both the same and completely different from the woman who had killed Val and defeated Nima so convincingly, leaving her to die on the summit of this other world’s Everest.
Nima gaped at Tanira as she stood in the darkened corridor leading to the depths of whatever this place was, the fallen body of another man at her feet. The same features were there, the face of the woman she had laughed with while running from grun, and sailed on a mistwhale with, but the look was of a person transformed.
In one hand she held a glowing, blue blade, the same sword she had run the man through who now lay on the ground. The other held a strange object, it looked like a large, silver ball with several crystals sticking out of it. Attached to her belt was a glowing, yellow plate of some kind, Nima could make out runes and inscriptions upon it. She recognized it as the same item Tanira had stolen on the Thartark’s island.
While Tanira had on the same dark, leather outfit she had worn before, her whole body was now outlined in some sort of bluish-white energy, small particles that floated like dust around her. Through the azure field Nima could still see the triangle painted on Tanira’s forehead, the symbol glowing with the same bright-blue energy.
Most important to Nima was what Tanira had laid on the ground. A small brown leather satchel, Val’s pack, upon which she could see the imprint of an island. She stared at the pack intently, but could see no movement. Her heart told her Lhamu was still in there, she had to be.
Tanira kept her eyes on Drew and Upala, not once did her gaze move Nima’s way. Whether this was because Tanira was ashamed or because she did not view Nima as a threat, didn’t matter. It created an opportunity, and one Nima was going to take.
She was going to get Lhamu back.
Drew and Upala were standing a few meters away, their backs to the same wall Nima sat against. The pair were shouting, at Tanira or each other, Nima could not tell. To Nima’s left, the small opening that led to Varesta blew fresh, cold air in, the narrow space channeling the winds and increasing their velocity. Directly across from them, Tanira advanced out of the darkened passageway, leaving the large pack in the dim light.
With a cry loud enough that it pierced the chaos in her head, Tanira ran at Drew and Upala, the glowing, blue sword held high.
Seeing her chance, Nima forced her hands and knees forward, aching muscles pulling her toward the alcove, the first step of inching around the combat. She prayed she could reach the child unnoticed. Val may have died, but Nima would not let his last wish die with him.
Ignoring the pain in her hands, she took a breath and crawled forward, turning to see a crimson field of energy engulf both Drew and Upala like a shield, Upala projecting the field from her hands while Drew somehow spit fire from his own.
Had she taught Drew her magic? Nima hoped they all lived long enough for her to ask.
Drew’s fire seemed to have no effect on the bluish particles that surrounded Tanira like armor, simply rolling off her like water. With a swing of the sword, Tanira attacked Upala’s shield, shattering it like glass.
The wind coming in from the narrow opening gusted behind her, snow blowing in as she shifted direction and began to crawl faster.
Glancing quickly to her left, she could see that Upala had recreated her shield of red energy. Tanira was hammering away at it, shouting. Cracks were beginning to form again, but for the moment, the barrier was holding.
Nima peered ahead and began moving forward past a wall of darkened passages. There were so many she could not count them all, dozens of openings that each led to stairs and mysterious depths inside the mountain. Tanira had come here, opening the door by using Lhamu and whatever she had stolen from the Thartark’s Pillar. All to acquire the armor and sword she now wielded, treasures for her Line.
Why she was attacking Drew and Upala, Nima couldn’t guess.
Her heart began to pound painfully as she approached the shadowed hallway from which Tanira had emerged, leaving the pack with Lhamu behind. One hand in front of the other she crawled, too afraid to look over at the conflict.
She prayed to Chomolungma to protect her and keep her safe. Just long enough to reach the baby was all she hoped for.
When she reached the pack, she released a breath she felt she had been holding since starting her crawl. Gently and carefully she pushed open the flap, relief washing over her when she saw the small face inside. Lhamu’s eyes were closed but her cheeks were a heal
thy hue and her tiny chest rose and fell with a normal rhythm. In the center of her forehead, her crystal gleamed a bright white.
“I’ve got you, Lhamu,” she whispered. “You’re safe.”
Nima resisted the urge to take the child out of the satchel and race with her down a hallway, whichever one was closest.
But there was no way to know where those hallways led. She needed to get Lhamu back to the Caenolans, back down the mountain. The path to the temple’s exit was blocked by her friends’ battle with Tanira.
She had reached Lhamu, but there was no way to get her to safely back to her people. Not while Tanira’s battle barred the way.
She gently pushed the pack farther into the passageway’s depths, more out of the light. She could not run, could not leave Drew and Upala to face Tanira alone. Should the knight of the Line defeat them, neither she nor Lhamu would be safe either.
She had to help Drew and Upala, if they still lived at all. Her heart back in her throat, she pushed her creaking joints into a standing position and turned to face the main room.
Tanira had Drew and Upala pinned down against the wall near the alcove exiting the temple, Upala just barely able to keep her red shield of energy up against the repeated strikes from Tanira’s sword. Drew continued to shoot fire through the shield, but his flames looked smaller, less potent.
Through the crimson distortion, Nima could see exertion on their faces, the heaving of their chests. They were wounded and exhausted, they would not last much longer.
Tanira was hammering away with the sword with one hand while swinging the silver ball on a chain with the other. The crystals attached to the ball were glowing brightly, Nima sensing that if Tanira struck the shield with that weapon the last thing protecting Drew was likely to collapse.
Tanira had taken Val from her. She was not going to take Drew as well.
