by D. H. Dunn
“Is there an issue with the Voice, for you?”
“Violent and irrational,” the Thread said, wings flapping with additional force as the words formed. Tanira grabbed onto its fur even tighter. “Difficult to control. Disrespectful of Terminus and those who are her elders. I would release all twelve of my brothers and sisters before her. She is where she should be.”
“Our target is no more my choice than it would be yours, Dragon. It is the choice of the Line, and part of our bargain.”
Tanira studied the horizon, scanning for the distinctive peak of Ish Kalum, a lone pyramid of stone thrusting into the sky. She had never seen the mountain with her eyes, but she had been drawing it from memory since she was a little girl. Based on the Thread’s estimate of nightfall, it would be some time before the mountain was even visible, but she was anxious.
As enjoyable as the flight was, the needs of the Line were a whip at her back. Once those needs were met, the whip would be gone and that would be a blessing greater than a thousand flights in the clouds.
“I am afraid of the height we are at,” Reylor said, his voice quivering. “I-I cannot open my eyes. I knew this would be part of my task, yet there was no way to prepare for it. No way to know.”
“There is no shame in that, Reylor,” Tanira said. “The Line has asked me to do much for which I was . . . unprepared.”
She expected the Thread to comment, but the Dragon stayed silent. Perhaps it did not wish to join a conversation between two Rakhum.
“Yet the Line chose you,” Reylor said. “I begged Garantika himself to allow me into the Order. Showed him that I carved the symbol into my forehead myself. I expected him to kill me, just for revealing I knew it existed.”
Her father? It was odd to hear him spoken of this way. When she attained the title of End her father had revealed to her that he himself led the order, but it was still hard to picture him in command of men and women, other agents.
Though she was told of the existence of other members of the Line, she had only ever seen him.
“What drove you to this?” The idea of being in the Line by choice was difficult to process. If one could choose to be in the Line, then it seemed one could choose to leave it. Yet their cause, her cause, was unmistakably just. The evils of the Manad Vhan were without excuse or tolerance.
“My brothers worked in one of the Nalam Wast digsites, just as I had been assigned to when I came of age.”
“They were killed in a cave in?” It was a common story. Her father had told her of the many Rakhum killed in cave-ins that happened at the old Manad Vhan temples where Kater and Upala had their Rakhum slaves unearthing their treasures.
“No, though there was indeed a cave in,” Reylor said. “One of the higher digs at Lobuche, not far from the summit. My brothers were both off shift at the time. I remember how happy mama had been, knowing her boys had been spared. When they reported for assignment that morning, Lord Kater himself was there. He wanted the remaining shifts to dig out the treasure room, to save the artifacts.”
“But not the other workers? The ones who were trapped in there?”
“If they were on the route to the treasure chamber, yes. Otherwise they were to be left, ‘let the bones of the mountain take them,’ in Lord Kater’s words. My older brother, Terray, he refused. He marched past the dig commander and went right to Lord Kater, looked him in the eye. In the eye! Told him he would do no such thing.”
“Kater killed him.” It was not a question. Her father had told her much of the Manad Vhan’s casual brutality.
“Burned him right there,” Reylor said, his face flush with anger. “Right in front of everyone. Said that was to be an example for any Rakhum that might challenge Lord Kater’s priorities. Sadly, one other person did.”
Tanira bit her lip, picturing a smaller Reylor in the doorway of his home, being told his brothers died for a scroll. Even worse, they died because they valued the lives of other Rakhum over a scroll.
Killed by their god, for paper.
“The next day, with two brothers dead, I started looking for another way. This has been going on for thousands of years, there must have been someone else willing to stand up to these ‘gods.’ It took me a long time, but I found out the truth and . . . here I am.”
“With fortune, your kin shall be avenged yet,” the Thread said with a solemn tone, surprising Tanira with his speech. It banked to the right, gently adjusting its flight and dipping lower. The peaks below them streamed by, a blur against the speed of the Dragon.
“They shall!” Reylor shouted, letting go of the beast’s mane for a moment to raise his fist in the air. “The Line and the Thread have come together. We have nothing to fear.”
“No, little Rakhum,” the Thread said, flapping its great wings again. “We approach the Voice. We may yet risk Terminus himself. There is uncertainty ahead and perhaps foes behind. We have everything to fear.”
The Thread was right, there were many unanswered questions ahead of them. She wondered what Reylor’s secret was, and why had it been kept from her. She wondered how difficult the Voice would be to control.
Most of all, she wondered if there were indeed foes behind them. Upala and the new male Manad Vhan had been left on Varesta with Nima, but there was another portal there. It was guarded and inactive, but it would be foolish to assume they could not get past it. She had underestimated Nima before.
Her mind brought her back to the lush forests of Sirapothi, where she had run laughing from a rampaging Grun, Nima and Val at her side.
Her friends, who never suspected Tanira would be days away from killing one of them and abandoning the other.
Cost upon cost, piling upon her heart. Betrayed eyes and cut throats, all in the name of the Line. Each one a stone on the road behind her, and a hand at her back. If she were to cause so much pain, it had to be worth it in the end.
Tanira set her jaw, watching as the sun sank lower in the sky. Ish Kalum and the Vault of the Voice could not come soon enough.
9
Upala looked around in the dim light of the cave, her vision blurred by fatigue. She blinked against the distortion, the shapes around her slowly revealing themselves to be her companions.
That one flame of worry extinguished itself as she made out the forms of Drew, Nima, Merin and Kater, each slumped on the ground around her, but breathing.
Alive, at the least. They had done it. Some were stirring but no one seemed fully conscious yet except her.
The shambling shapes of the Yeti moved forward, blocking any exit from the small cavern.
She could see the many crystals lining the creature’s backs, a spectrum of colors glowing and pulsing as they advanced. Her heart pounded in her chest, her fear for Drew, for the others intermixing with the crushing fatigue from the portal translation. Soundlessly the massive beasts moved forward, a wall of white fur that undoubtedly wanted revenge for Sinar’s actions as well as her own.
She tried to call fire to her hands, but little came except a warming of her palms. She was back in Aroha Darad, and back at a lower altitude. She could shield here, but little more. Reaching down to try and tap what reserves she might have, she was only able to call forth a small shimmering field of red energy, hardly enough to cover even herself.
The shield collapsed around her as her strength gave out. Upala fell onto her side, the cold stone damp and wet against her cheek.
“Drew. . .” It was a whisper. The cavern grew darker as the Yeti moved forward, blocking out the light behind them and leaving Upala in near darkness. All she could see were the colors of their crystals, all she could feel were the vibrations of their heavy feet on the stone.
There was movement out of the corner of her eye. A figure stood in front of the Yeti, at first obscured by the dim light.
The Yeti froze, halting their advance just a step away from the small shape in their midst. Each one then dropped to one knee, head bowed. Upala watched as the crystals on their backs changed color, all
phasing to a blinding white that lit the room as the Yeti stood and encircled the figure.
A hand landed on her shoulder from behind and Upala yelped out in surprise. She knew the touch without looking. Drew.
“What is going on?” he asked.
She did not have a chance to consider how to explain as the circle of Yeti opened, the creatures lining up and facing them. In their midst was a kneeling girl, were she Rakhum Upala would have judged her to be in her mid-teens. She was no Rakhum though, her blue skin and lightly scaled face looked back at them, huge, dark eyes framing a brilliant, white crystal in her forehead.
“Lhamu!” Nima shouted, limping as she ran forward. The girl’s head turned toward Nima, wide dark eyes reflecting the many colors of the crystals around her.
As the Yeti moved to encircle Lhamu, Merin launched herself forward, reaching Nima and pulling her back just before the charging Sherpa could collide with the wall of white fur.
“How?” Drew said, pushing himself up.
The same question ran through Upala’s mind. Kater had aged during his time in the Under, but that had been the result of his healing being removed by that region’s strange dampening of Manad Vhan magic.
She supposed it could be an effect of Lhamu’s race. Her studies had made no mention of these Caenolans on Sirapothi, but Nima had said there was an entire society of them there. Yet another mystery.
“Let me go!”
Nima struggled against Merin, Drew limping over to help. As she tried to contain the Sherpa woman, the burns across Merin’s left side were painful to look at, her clothes seared away and leaving the wounds exposed.
Upala forced herself into a kneeling position, giving one quick glance around the room. Kater was slumped next to the portal exit, looking as inert as the magical gateway. His eyes blinked, but he was either too exhausted or disinterested to react to the scene in front of him.
She rose to her feet, her stance wobbling as if the stone were made of water. Drew had his arm around Nima, Merin having sat again. Nima’s face was bright red, and she still demanded Drew release her, though she did not struggle with him.
One Yeti stepped away from the circle, turning to walk toward them. Her heart fell at the sight, panic spreading through her in waves from the pit in her stomach. These were the same creatures Sinar had immolated before her eyes, and they likely blamed her for the horrible crime.
Upala barely had enough energy to keep herself on her feet, the rest of them seemed in worse condition. They could not stand against even one of the creatures, not and keep everyone safe from harm.
Raising its massive paws, claws as long as Upala’s hand, the Yeti did the last thing Upala had expected.
“I am the Speaker,” it said. “I have been selected to address you.”
The Yeti’s voice was muffled and low, as if the sounds were coming from underneath several layers of snow. Looking into its face, she could see the bluish lips underneath the mass of white fur struggle to form the words. He looked as large and imposing as any of his race, with no distinguishable marks or indications of individuality. The crystals lining his back and shoulders continued to pulse a pure white in time with the other Yeti.
“The speaker. . .” Upala said, struggling to understand what was happening. They wanted to talk?
“Let Lhamu go!” Nima yelled, the Speaker turning its head toward the small woman, still being held back by Drew.
“We protect the Link,” he said to Nima. There was little tone to the words, his voice devoid of violence or peace. “This Link is the Foretold, and we protect her. That is our rocha.” The Speaker said “rocha” as if the meaning should be obvious, yet Upala had never heard of it.
“No! She needs me!” The Yeti took two steps toward Nima as she finally pulled free of Drew. She ran up to the Speaker, repeating herself, “She needs me.”
“You are the Arrived, the Link does draw strength from you. She is struggling with the translation, the loss of connection. You may be with her, once we have remedied this condition.”
The large group of Yeti moved out of the chamber, taking Lhamu with them. As Nima attempted to run past the Speaker, the Yeti reached out with one enormous hand and plucked her off the ground.
Drew ran forward with his fists raised, stopping when the Yeti gently placed Nima back down in front of him.
“No combat is needed,” the Speaker said, his deep voice calm. “Though your patience is required, Arrived. Access to the Foretold will be permitted.”
“But what do you want with her?” Upala stepped in between the Speaker and Nima, hoping she looked more imposing than she felt. Drew continued to attempt to calm Nima down, but Upala was unsure of how successful he would be. Right now, the Yeti were not attacking and the only hope they had of keeping everyone alive was to keep it that way.
The Yeti looked down at her, looking at her with the same dark eyes she had removed from Yeti skulls many times. She felt exposed, her past always in front of her.
“Sentenced, you ask questions yet there is much you must answer for.”
Sentenced? She supposed that was their title for her, one she could not argue with. “You translated along with the Arrived and the Foretold. Your party also includes the Trusted. This grants you a truce with the Yeti, so long as you do not interfere with our rocha.”
“Rocha? I do not-”
“It means their calling,” Kater said, his voice sounding weak and tired. He still sat slumped against the wall of the cavern. “Near as I have determined, it is like a divine quest for them, one they decide together.”
“You are correct, Trusted. To preserve the Foretold is our rocha.”
Merin laughed, a scornful sound. “If you call Kater ‘Trusted’ I am not sure we should trust you.”
“Your trust is not required, Respected,” the Speaker said to Merin. He turned back to Nima, who still glared up at him with balled fists. “Your care for the Foretold is admirable, Arrived. We share it. The translation will be difficult for her, we are assisting her with that transition. In a short time, you will be taken to her. Will you accept this delay?”
“I don’t guess I have a choice,” Nima said, folding her arms. “But I want to know what is going on with her. Why is she older? Is she all right? Will she know me?”
“All things have reasons, Arrived, therefore all things have explanations. We shall share our knowledge with you when we bring you to the Foretold.” The Yeti turned toward Drew, who had his hands on Nima’s shoulders. “We would title you Unstable, and would wish to examine you as well. You have much in common with the Foretold.”
“Me?” Drew said, taking a step back. “Why would you want to examine me? What does that even mean? What do you mean ‘Unstable’?”
“Speaker.” Upala put as strong a tone as possible into her voice, trying to recall the times she had seen Merin or Harliss use a similar tone. She struggled toward as diplomatic a phrasing as possible, but she was so tired. ”This is all very confusing to us. We expected you would attack us. We are very happy you have not, but do you intend to? Are we safe here? Do you intend to let us leave? What do you want?”
The questions poured out of her with embarrassing haste, but she needed to know. Somewhere outside this cave Tanira was already at work.
“Intend, Sentenced? We intend nothing that would go against our rocha. Cred rocha! As long as your actions are in alignment with the Foretold, you have a truce with the Yeti.”
“Did he answer your question?” Drew asked. “I can hardly tell.”
Upala pondered the meaning of the Speaker’s words as another Yeti appeared in the chamber opening. It looked indistinguishable from the Speaker. Even with all the Yeti she had dissected she had never found a difference between one and another. The newcomer paused for a moment, then turned and backed a few steps out of the room, standing half in shadow.
The Speaker addressed Nima.
“Arrived, you may be taken to the Foretold. Unstable, we would desire to exam
ine you. There is much about you that is questioned.”
“And the rest of us?” Merin asked. She spoke through clenched teeth, brandishing her burned arm at the Speaker.
“We would ask that you remain here until the Arrived has spoken with the Foretold. You are injured, we may be able to offer succor as well as sustenance.”
Upala stepped in front of Drew and Nima. Taking Nima to see Lhamu was one matter, but Drew being examined as well?
“We will not allow our friends to be harmed.”
“Do not be provocative,” the Speaker said, his voice flat. “If we wished harm, harm would have occurred. No harm will come to those who are on the side of the Foretold and our rocha.”
“I’ll be all right,” Drew said, leaning over to her. “It’ll help me keep an eye on Nima and maybe I’ll get some answers too.” He leaned in, giving her a kiss on her cheek. “Be right back.”
Nima sprung forward, quickly walking alongside the Speaker as he left the room. Drew followed behind, taking one last look back at Upala before sliding out of sight into the darkened passage leading out of the cavern.
As if the string holding her up had been cut, Upala slumped to the ground, falling to her knees in exhaustion. Whatever might come, whatever Tanira might be up to, they were home. It was a small comfort, but it was all she had.
The Speaker had brought Nima to a tiny room, she guessed about ten minutes’ walk from where the portal had deposited them. She saw no other Yeti except the Speaker during their journey, which was so filled with twists and turns she doubted she could find her way back.
Lhamu lay on a stone platform, covered in a blanket of thick, brown fur. Nima stared at her from the entrance of the small chamber, her mind struggling to work out what she was seeing. Even after all the impossibilities she had witnessed since the Under, this was the hardest to accept.
Drew had attempted to stop and stay with her, but the Speaker had been insistent that Drew accompany him. Drew managed to give Nima a small hug before he was guided away into the darkness, leaving Nima alone outside the small open room that contained Lhamu’s sleeping form.
