by D. H. Dunn
She pulled her shield violently down toward her, forcing the golden Dragon that clawed against its surface toward the ground along with it. It turned, as she knew it would, streaking at her yet again. She braced herself for its vocal attack, though she could still hear little but ringing.
As it descended toward her, she let the shield above it dissolve. There was a momentary respite, a brief second where she did not have to focus on maintaining the energy barrier. She could feel the hundred hurts of her body, each calling out for her attention. The exhaustion in her limbs and mind, the need for sleep, for peace.
She waited until she could see the glint of the setting sun on the Voice’s eyes before she brought her shield up again, this time as a thick wall directly in front of her. The Dragon slammed into the barrier at full speed, treating Upala to the sight of its long, golden snout pressed up against its surface before the wall was driven back by the force of the impact, colliding with her as well.
She fell to the ground on her back, her energy wall dissipating as the golden Dragon passed over her. It swiped her with its rear claws again as the long snake of a body passed, slicing into her belly and upper thigh. It was superficial, but it added to the chorus of pain that sang through her like a choir.
Upala could feel the trembling of the ground, a shuddering as if the mountain itself was going to fall upon her. A white mist passed in front of her like a cloud, the lead vanguard of the approaching wave of snow. Debris and wind pushed over her, almost obscuring the golden form of the Voice as it weakly pushed through the air for escape.
“No.” Upala had wanted to shout, but it came out a whisper. “No, you do not.” The dirt underneath her was vibrating, there were only heartbeats left before it hit,
Reaching out, she created a new crimson shield directly above the Dragon. She then pulled the barrier down as hard and fast as she could, pinning the beast like an insect caught under glass and bringing it down. Directly on top of her.
As the Voice fell upon her, Upala was only able to somewhat roll to her side before it collided. New pain exploded in her face, in her hips. It was everywhere.
Her shield collapsed and she took one look up toward the sky, her view partially obscured by the Dragon’s leathery wings. There was a flash of white as the wall impacted, and then the world became very dark and impossibly heavy.
For a moment, she was rolling with the snow, caught with the debris. Upala then sensed herself coming to rest. Her left arm was pinned behind her back, while her right pressed into her chest. Her legs had been pulled painfully behind her, as if she was kneeling in the air.
The pressure upon her was tremendous, she was being flattened, crushed under a moving mountain. She could barely move her lungs to breathe, for all the oxygen that might be present.
She opened her eyes, but there was nothing. She may have been blinded, or she may have been too buried for light to reach. She supposed it didn’t matter.
She could hear nothing but ringing, felt nothing but weight and pain. She was frozen, as much a part of the land now as Ish Rav Partha itself.
She reached inside herself, calling for her energy to bring fire to melt the snow, or a shield to push against the weight pressing down upon her.
She found none. Whatever reserves she had found with her she had used up to keep the Voice in the path of the avalanche. Inside, the source of magic she had felt all her life seemed barren, lifeless.
There was no movement she could detect in the snow. No sign if the Voice had survived. She felt deeply tired, even through the pain of all her injuries, the call of sleep was strong.
She would run out of air soon, some part of her mind understood that. Yet that would not kill her, if not for her injuries from the Voice she might have survived for years or decades under the snow, centuries in which her mind unhinged but her body persisted.
She would bleed to death. The acceptance built inside Upala, coming in pulses like her exhaustion. Here, underneath the snow on the borders of Rogek Shad she had been given an opportunity. A second chance to make right, in a small way, some of the wrongs she had wrought upon the people of this community. It was not enough, but it was all she had.
She wished only that she could have met Drew in a happier time, an earlier time. Perhaps then she could have avoided the irony of being a Manad Vhan who had misused her seemingly limitless years. Even a few minutes more, a few more touches.
She saw light breaking through the darkness, the world of death calling to her. She wondered what it would be like, what mysteries it would contain.
Will my parents be there? Will Drew join me there some day?
The light now alternated between white and red, a muffled sound reaching her ringing ears. Something that sounded like speech, accompanied by a scraping noise.
The red became clearer, the white became brighter. She thought she felt a hint of air, fresh and cool, leaking in from above. Then the red passed right in front of her face, glowing and magical. The crimson energy of a Manad Vhan shield, used like a scoop to push the snow away.
The shield vanished after removing the last of the snow. She gasped, pulling cold, crisp air into her lungs. Her eyes blurred with tears as Drew’s grinning face filled her vision.
He spoke, and though his words were impossible to make out through the constant ringing in her ears, she smiled all the same.
He was here, and he had brought her a second chance. He reached in for her, his strong hands gently moving behind her back to help her into a sitting position. He knelt, his worry and concern clear on his face.
He was covered in bruises and blood, just as she knew she was. Some would heal, others might not. Yet he was still whole, he was still alive. For Upala, that would be enough.
Beyond him there was little but snow in all directions. The broken structures and victims of the Voice’s rampage had been buried by the avalanche, giving the fields a clean, healed look.
A look that was a lie, and did nothing to erase her shame. Those were her people buried under the wreckage and debris, along with their homes. She may have been able to save some lives in her final actions here, but that did not change what she had done to put these people in the Dragon’s path to begin with.
She saw the broken form of the Voice half embedded in the snow, its upper body and one leg out in the open. Its head lay on the ground at a painful angle, the neck snapped and the eyes unmoving. At least the Voice would speak no more.
“I am all right,” she said to Drew.
It was a lie, but they both knew that. Her words sounded wrong to her, muffled like they had been spoken under a blanket. Drew held her, keeping her upright as he embraced her. She could feel her bones resetting, her tired muscles repairing themselves, the comforting warmth of her healing matching the safety of his embrace.
Her wounds from the Dragon would not heal magically, but they could be bandaged to heal on their own in time. She suspected there was little hope of her hearing returning, but if that was all she lost it was a price she’d happily pay.
Her vision growing clearer, she could see the Speaker walking over to them, ripped cloth in his hands. He looked ragged, nearly as bad as Drew, yet still he came to assist her.
“I thought I lost you,” Drew said. He pulled back from their embrace to look her in the eye. “I thought I missed my chance to tell you - I love you.”
She heard him, she heard those words through the din in her ears. Aching but not broken, she bent forward and kissed him with as much strength as she had.
“I love you, as well.” she said, breaking off the kiss. He had indeed helped her find a second chance to do so much more good, but also a second chance to live a better life.
The Speaker said something, pointing overhead. His low voice was harder to make out with clarity than Drew’s, but what he pointed at was clear. Three large Dragons fly by overhead, their shadows passing against the reddening sky.
Upala recognized the Thread, but the other two were none of the beasts they
had seen so far. Yet the danger they represented was as obvious as the fear that ran through her like a current.
The idea of three more Dragons to face crushed the hope that had been building inside her. It galled her with its impossibility.
Have we not suffered enough? What more could we do?
They were headed for Nalam Wast, where Nima, Kater and Lhamu were. She saw Drew’s eyes following their flight, and then looking down at her with concern. He’d likely want to protect her, just as she wanted to protect him. They were both wounded, exhausted and out of energy. The Speaker looked just as worn down.
They all needed healing and rest, but they did not have that luxury. She put her arm out for Drew, surprised as how much effort that simple action took.
“Help me up,” she said, her voice sounding muffled in her ears. “We still have work to do.”
30
To Nima’s surprise, getting the attention of Terminus had proved quite difficult.
Her first attempts had failed, as she had expected. The great beast had lumbered throughout Nalam Wast, knocking down stone buildings and canvas tents as it screamed Kater’s name and continued to search for him. Nima had first tried yelling out to the Dragon, but she doubted anyone would have heard her over all the calamity the destruction was causing.
Seizing the rubble all around her as an opportunity, she had next tried lobbing a few rocks at the one of creature’s heads.
Nima had pretty good aim after many days on the farm competing against Pasang in games of ‘who can hit the potato off the vine’, but Terminus’ twin heads were always too high, and her stones just bounced off the dark, heavy scales of his back.
What had gotten the Dragon’s attention was Lhamu.
The Caenolan girl had run out into the street, calling Nima’s name. Not looking for help, as Nima originally worried, but looking too help.
It was, after all, what Nima would have done in the girl’s place, so she should have known. Just like Tanira hanging by one hand off a ledge, Lhamu wasn’t going to let her face Terminus alone.
She was sure the Dragon hadn’t heard Lhamu, but his pair of heads both swiveled around when her glowing head crystal came into view.
“You!” It bellowed from one head as it twisted its body toward her. “Caenolan! You dared to touch my mind?”
Nima ran toward Lhamu as the thundering footfalls of Terminus began, the creature charging through rubble of its own creation as it surged after her. Nima grabbed the girl’s hand, the Caenolan fixed in the middle of the road staring at the beast’s charge.
“Come on!” Nima yelled, her hand closing tightly around Lhamu’s webbed fingers and yanking her into an alley. There was no doubt in Nima’s mind Terminus saw them run down the side street, but maybe she could lose him with a few more turns.
“I was. . .I was going to help!” Lhamu yelled, now releasing Nima’s hand and running confidently alongside her. There was another alley way to the left, Nima headed for it with Lhamu right behind.
“I know,” Nima said. “And you did, but now we have to not die!”
What was her plan for that exactly? Nima wondered.
She had no idea. They to stay ahead of the beast, but they couldn’t lose him entirely. Through quick flashes while running in the street she had seen plenty of people still in Rogek Shad across the river. Merin and Trillip were still trying to evacuate that city while its counterpart was being crushed by Terminus.
Nima led them through one street after another, trying to alter her pattern without circling back to where they had been. Every several seconds there would be another crash behind her. Other than the river, Rogek Shad had so few landmarks, it all looked the same and she was starting to get confused. There was just one row of boring single floor stone buildings after another.
They turned another corner, Nima realizing they were paralleling the river again and nearing the bridge between the two cities.
On the Nalam Wast side, she could see the bridge’s two tall stone towers were both heavily damaged. The left one was leaning a bit toward its twin on the right, reminding Nima of the ice pillars she had seen in the Khumbu Icefall back on Everest.
An idea formed in her mind. She was pretty sure it wasn’t a good idea, but it was all she had.
“Stay with me and get ready to climb!” she yelled at Lhamu, a new eruption of sound and debris behind them letting Nima know Terminus had rediscovered their path. That was good for her plan, though it still felt bad.
Her heart pounded in time with her feet slamming on the dirt path , and she wished anyone else was here who could help. Drew and Upala might be dead, Merin and Trillip were helping evacuate, Kater might have died back there in that abandoned building.
They were on their own.
Her eyes scanned the left tower as fast as she could, the ground now shaking with the approaching Dragon. She saw the hand holds and foot holds she’d need, they were as clear as diamonds to her. The building was in sorry shape, but that too was part of the plan.
A shudder ran through the structure, the impact of the great Dragon upon a nearby building echoing through the city.
“Watch my hands and feet!” she called to Lhamu. Only a few more steps. “Put yours where I put mine!”
She didn’t wait for an acknowledgement, there wasn’t time. One last step on the ground and she leaped toward the left tower, her hands catching the exposed wooden support shaft she had seen.
She pulled herself up with one arm, swinging her legs around to get her boot in the toehold she’d chosen. She didn’t need to climb much more, the structure was only about four stories high. Pushing up with her legs, she got both hands around the cracks in the stone she had spied on the floor of the lookout platform on the top of the tower.
She pulled herself up, feeling the tower sway backwards as she did so. She could only stay up here for a few seconds. Looking down she saw Lhamu’s glowing head crystal first, then the girl’s face, serious and determined. Nima reached down, widening her stance to steady herself as she pulled the girl up on the wobbling space.
She gripped Lhamu’s hand tightly.
“Get ready to jump!” she said. “Toward the river!”
The Umbuk River raged alongside them as the massive form of Terminus closed directly ahead. This tower was about to fall, Nima could tell just as sure if it were back in the Khumbu. She just needed to wait one more second to let the Dragon get close enough and hopefully the stone structure would fall right on it.
She could see the twin heads of Terminus bearing down, stretching on its long necks, four red eyes bearing down on her. Each step shook the tower further.
She counted down in her head, wishing she had said more to Drew, just in case.
The twin maws of the beast opened, Nima staring down a pair of dark tunnels leading into the Dragon’s interior.
“Now!” She pulled Lhamu to her right, angling for the river. Her feet left the tower’s stone surface, her altitude dropping immediately. There was no way to look begin her, but she heard the structure collapsing and a satisfying set of painful roars from Terminus assured her that her plan had worked.
The raging waters came at her at tremendous speed, Nima only having a second to pull a gulp of air into her lungs and close her eyes before the cold water pulled her under.
Her brother Pasang had loved to swim and would jump into the small local river every chance he got. To Nima, the water always made her feel bulky and uncomfortable, like a rock stumbling along, being taken where the water wanted her to go.
The Umbuk was taking her, but there was nothing stumbling about the strength of its current. She wobbled and bounced around in the icy water, trying to get some traction with her arms but the river’s turgid flow kept twisting her. She was tired, her arms and legs felt like stones attached to her body.
Nima felt the fear build slowly inside her. Could it be that after all her adventures and risks, that this was it?
Had she finally taken the one leap t
hat was too far, as her brother had warned her, jumping past where neither her luck nor even Chomolungma could reach her?
Then a firm, webbed hand gripped on to hers. A powerful force tugged her against the current, yanking her up above the surface of the water. Nima’s eyes stayed shut as she pulled air into her lungs in huge gulps. By the time she became aware that she was not going to die, she was already on the river’s shore.
She opened her eyes, the weight of her cold, wet clothes like boulders on her chest. Through blurred vision she saw Lhamu kneeling over her, concern and worry clear on the girl’s face. Nima forced a slight smile onto her lips and saw Lhamu mirror the gesture.
“Glad you can swim,” Nima croaked. She knew there was more to be worried about, but she was out of energy and out of ideas. Even moving was a struggle.
“Glad you can climb,” Lhamu laughed. “I was worried that-”
“Nima!” A familiar voice rang out, Nima propping herself up on one elbow to see Merin running toward her. Trillip was close behind, past him she could see the tents and yurts that comprised Rogek Shad. Crowds of people still scattered around, some of them looking aged or sick. Merin’s body blocked Nima’s view as she knelt to embrace her.
Nima put a weak hand around the woman.
“So brave,” Merin said. “So brave. Kad would be proud of you.”
“Look!” A panicked cry came from out of Nima’s sight. Trillip’s voice. Merin moved and stood, horror building on her face. The ground trembled; she heard the impact of massive feet onto the river. She turned knowing what she would see.
Terminus marched toward them, walking through the Umbuk as if its mighty current was meaningless. One head glared straight in her direction, the other head shook back and forth, several wounds visible on its face. The collapsing building had done more to Terminus that she could have hoped.
It would heal the damage in time, of course, but by then it would be too late for them. One Dragon’s head would be enough. Terminus marched forward, increasing its speed, eyes now fixed on Lhamu as it roared.
