by D. H. Dunn
“You . . . you be careful,” he said. “If you need me, I’ll find a way to get to you.”
“I know you will! You did once already!” Nima laughed. “I know you are always on my rope. If I need you, I’ll give it a tug.”
They both stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Drew could hear the wind outside faintly, tearing over the mountain. He knew Upala and the Speaker were waiting for him, just as Lhamu was waiting for her. Yet his feet felt nailed to the floor.
“I don’t want to accept that this is it,” he said. “I can’t believe that I’ll never see you again.”
Nima came closer to him, standing on her tip toes so she could kiss him on the cheek. “Then choose not to believe it,” she said, giving him a wink and a smile. She pointed to her forehead. “I plan to see you every day.”
Nima turned away, walking slowly back toward the hallway, taking the initiative to end the goodbye. Breaking trail toward the next chapter of her story. He spoke to her one last time, one last thing that he needed to make sure was said.
“I love you, little sister.”
“And I love you, big brother.”
Then there was nothing left to say. Drew turned and walked down the short passageway that led out of the Vault, for a moment still able to hear Nima’s footsteps as she went in the opposite direction. He slowed his pace, listening to her boots hit the stone as they grew softer and softer, until he could hear them no more.
The light outside was dimming, bathing the hallway in an orange light. Outside, Upala waited for him, and beyond that a series of limitless possibilities. A world that was almost completely unknown to him, abilities he was still discovering and a lifetime that seemingly no longer had a limit. Before Everest, before entering the Under and meeting Upala, these prospects might have terrified him. Now, he had a guide, a partner, a companion.
He began to walk again toward the sunlight outside. Nima was heading to her home and Drew smiled, realizing he was doing the same.
36
“It was better to be true, than to be strong.” - Maurice Herzog
April 27, 1952
Annapurna, Nepal
5,200m above sea level
Nima stamped her feet in the cold snow of Annapurna, noting the snow here seemed slightly flakier than Everest. The great mountain was several hundred kilometers to the east of the peaks she knew, but the same stars still graced the cold, early morning sky.
She rubbed her gloved hands together, the heating tube she had shoved inside her coat still keeping her torso fairly warm. She was glad she had saved the heating magics Upala had sent with her through the past year, though as time passed it had become harder to think about her days on Aroha Darad without becoming sad.
Nima pulled one breath into her lungs, relishing the freshness even if the oxygen content was low. She was proud that she was not very winded. Some of that was due to her Sherpa blood, but they had also used Kater’s blink tubes for much of the ascent, so she supposed that was a factor too.
The star-filled sky was perfectly clear and crisp, with a bright moon that competed with Lhamu’s head crystal. The girl looked back at her through her myriad of scarves and her goggles, pulling her mask off after a moment.
“I can’t believe we are really here!” Lhamu said. “Annapurna!”
Lhamu had become obsessed with the mountain since reading a news report about the first ascent of an eight thousand meter peak the previous year. Nima had been amazed at how quickly Lhamu had picked up reading since coming to Earth, but she was surprising in many ways. Nima herself was reading now too, though she freely admitted to lagging behind the Caenolan.
When the time had come to choose a place to bury ‘the artifacts’ as Lhamu always called them, the girl had begged to put them on Annapurna. Nima had initially resisted, given the mountain’s incredibly dangerous reputation. After seeing the picture in the news article Lhamu had showed her though she had relented. Something about the legendary peak just seemed right.
Her brother Pasang had argued in favor of Lhotse, or Ama Dablam. Both peaks were closer, but Nima always trusted her instincts, so Annapurna it was.
They had planned to go the previous spring, but due to her father’s failing health she decided to wait until he had passed. This had allowed Nima more time with Lhamu, and more time with Awa. Most of the time wasn’t that good, he was old and weak and usually did not know she was there. Yet it seemed important to wait until he passed.
She still recalled the strong embrace Pasang had given her when she departed. He had not asked Nima for her plans after this task was complete, he knew she did not have any. Yet he seemed to know, as much as she did, that she would not be returning.
Awa was gone, and Pasang’s future was financially secure. There was nothing left for Nima back there.
Now there was just this mountain, and the task at hand. Powerful items from that other world, the one that now existed on the other side of a cold, stone oval on Everest. Where Drew and Upala were, where Merin and the Speaker were.
The last place she had seen magic.
The shelf they stood on was about half way up Annapurna’s hostile north face, where it would be buffeted by chilling winds most of the year. The climb to reach this spot included a treacherous, ice covered rock wall, nearly vertical and dozens of meters high.
If they had not possessed the ability to blink their way up the mountain, Nima was sure they never could have reached it.
Given the frequency of the avalanches here and the mountain’s deadly reputation, it was as good a place as she could think of to protect such dangerous items.
“I think this is a good spot,” Nima said. Lhamu nodded and dropped her pack. Nima did the same, she would be glad to be rid of the weight, physically and mentally. Lhamu fished a small shovel out and began digging into the snow.
Nima laid the items on the ground one at a time—Kater’s helm, the shoulder piece of the Hero’s armor, and the heart of the Dragon Terminus. The heart used to be in a box, but once they had crossed back into their world it had shrunken and hardened, now looking like a small black stone. She watched as Lhamu continued to dig, thinking of the incredible journey these items represented.
Memories of Kad and Merin, and their times in the Under, Kad being the first person from another world Nima had ever seen. Or so she had thought, until learning Carter had been Kater. The faces flashed before her, a spinning wheel of memories happy and sad. Vihrut and Jang. Upala and the Speaker. And especially Drew and Val.
The slight wisp of a cloud crossed in front of the large face of the moon. It would not be daylight for several hours, Nima judged that pre-dawn morning would be the only safe time on Annapurna’s avalanche-prone slopes. She felt no worries about the mountain, as they had plenty of time before dawn and the blink tubes would make the descent easy.
What did make her uneasy was her uncertainty about what they would do when they arrived at the bottom of the mountain.
Disposing of these items had been a task in front of her for more than a year. She had thought that she and Lhamu would roam the hills of Nepal and explore the Himalayas, yet it had not worked out that way.
Part of the issue had been Awa, and part of it was the difficulties of keeping Lhamu secret. The ascent of Annapurna in 1950 by French climbers had triggered a worldwide interest in climbing Nepal’s great peaks, with more Western visitors arriving by the day. She might have tried to get her fellow Sherpa to understand or even accept Lhamu, but Westerners with their money and their cameras had made Nima too fearful of exposing her.
There was more though. Coming back to Earth, she had felt changed. Like Pasang, she had retained her ability to understand anything said to her in any language, a skill Pasang was already putting to benefit as an interpreter for many of the new climbing expeditions.
But the world that had once been sharp and full of mysteries seemed dulled now, like a knife that had been used too much. Outside of Everest itself, nothing seemed to hav
e any magic about it like what she had seen in those other worlds.
This world now seemed like paint that had been left out in the rain. The color was still there, but it was faded, muted.
There was a hole in her life where excitement used to be, not unlike the one they had just finished digging.
“How’s that?” Lhamu asked.
Nima looked and nodded, impressed. The white light from Lhamu’s headcrystal illuminated a hole in the snow that was already about a meter deep. Lhamu had surprised both her and Pasang with how strong she was, and she had adapted to the high altitude and climbing with ease.
“That’s great, Lhamu.” Nima picked up the items one by one and tossed them into the hole, saving the Helm for last. She thought back to when she had worn it, wondering what had happened to the Thread and the other Dragons, to Merin and the Speaker. She hoped they were well, which was all she could do.
She knelt, pushing the excess powder into the hole while Lhamu did the same with her shovel.
As the white snow fell upon these last connections with the amazing worlds she had seen, her eyes began to blur with tears, her memories taking her back to all she been through.
Despite the cold of the mountain, she could feel the heat of the damp forests of Sirapothi, running from a grun with Tanira and Val, laughing on an adventure with a knight.
Though she wore gloves to protect her from the mountain’s bitter cold, somehow Nima could still sense the warm touch of Val’s hand. The bright crimson glow of his headcrystal still shone in her memories like a sun. She could almost feel the press of his lips on hers, the promise of a future that never came to pass.
She closed her eyes her tears froze upon her cheeks, her mind showing her mushrooms and caverns, walls of shining portals that led to a thousand worlds, all the amazing vistas of the Under. She saw Kad’s broad smile, recalled the strong bravery of Merin and Wanda’s fierce sacrifice, her last words to Nima in her ears even now.
What will do you, Nima?
She did not know to do, and now had no one to ask.
The person who would know was not here. The man who had become the friend, the advisor, the big brother she had always needed was a hundred worlds away. Finally happy, finally free of the guilt that had weighed him down since the day they had met.
An arm came around her shoulder, and she leaned into Lhamu as she allowed herself a few more tears. She felt the touch of snowfall on her skin, Chomolungma perhaps giving her a blessing.
Nima’s task was done. Her adventure was over, but it had been one her grandfather would have been proud of. That was more than she ever thought she would have, and it would have to be enough.
Silently, she and Lhamu began to push the remaining snow into the hole with their gloves. In moments, there was little evidence the mountain had ever been disturbed. Nima knew that the first good avalanche would likely bury the items further, sealing them off from ever being found.
“Well, that’s that, I guess,” Nima said, smiling wistfully at Lhamu. She had no idea what to do now but descend, and even less idea of what to do after they did. She turned, about to look down the mountain to gauge their descent route when Lhamu’s voice rang through the cold morning.
“What is that?” she cried, pointing above them.
Nima turned and followed the girl’s gloved finger to a spot a few hundred meters farther up the mountain. For a moment, she saw nothing but the darkness and the snow that blew from Annapurna’s constant wind. Then, her eyes picked out the slightest tint of color.
Just a spark, a flickering hint of green, like a firefly somehow up on the mountain. Nima blinked and it was gone, but it was replaced seconds later by a quick flash of red. Then blue.
“Please tell me we are going to find out what that is,” Lhamu said. She had already pulled her pack back on and was looking up the side of the peak.
Nima smiled. “How could we not? We’re here after all!” She felt that little fire light inside her, the one she had been missing. Something was here, here on the mountain. Maybe this was why she had been so drawn to it.
She looked up the side of Annapurna, catching another flash of light above her, this one yellow. There was some sort of ledge above them, maybe fifty meters she guessed. It was blocking whatever was causing the colors, but there was a clear route to it.
“Come on!” she said, clipping her rope to Lhamu’s belt and pulling her oxygen mask back on. She briefly considered using one of their remaining blink tubes but decided against it. As excited as she was, this could be nothing. Even a shared hallucination she supposed. They needed those tubes for the trip down or they’d be caught on the mountain when the sun came up.
She dug her ice ax into the angled route before her, feeling her crampons catch into the hard surface with ease. With steady movements, she ascended the hardened wall of ice, Lhamu close behind. She felt powered by some new energy, something beyond adrenaline. It was as if she were communing with the mountain, rushing up its side with the peak’s blessing.
After only a few minutes she pulled even with the small plateau, planting her ax hard into its flat surface and pulling herself up. Nima stood, facing a new wall of ice that seemed to stretch at least another hundred meters straight up the side of Annapurna. She pulled her goggles off and looked around the landing just as Lhamu arrived.
There was nothing.
Nothing but a plain, flat area of snow about ten meters across and a solid wall of ice. There were no sparks or energy, no magic. No reds or blues, no greens or yellows. No colors except the black of the sky, no sounds except her breath inside her oxygen mask.
Nima pulled her mask off as she heard the clink of Lhamu unclipping her rope from her belt, the girl’s boots crunching in the icy snow as she came to stand beside her.
“I don’t. . . I don’t understand,” Lhamu said, her own mask now in her hand. “I thought-”
Nima felt like she had been kicked in the stomach, all the energy she had gained during her sprint up to this ledge now washed out of her. She had been sure there would be some exciting something here. Something to lead her on, something to give her a new hill to climb. A new spark.
She turned back, looking out over the star-filled sky. Below in the darkness was the same Nepal she had lived in all her life, the Nepal she had returned to after her adventures. A Nepal that was part of a world with metal wars and atom bombs, a world of money and the people who wanted it. A world where the questions were getting less interesting. A world with no Dragons, no magic.
She sighed. Their job was done, they had completed their task. There was nothing left to do but descend the mountain and try to decide what was next.
She picked up one foot, then heard a sound behind her. A crack, faint but clear, like ice breaking.
She whirled as the colors began to show from behind the wall of ice, a myriad of red and blues, greens and yellows. There was a second crack, and a third. Small trickles of water now ran down the rapidly disintegrating, frozen surface, revealing an oval of mist, a swirling rainbow of color.
”A portal?” Lhamu gasped. ”Where does it go?”
Nima nodded, a grin forming on her face so fierce it almost hurt. A portal! Somehow here on Annapurna, a portal!
She had no idea where it might lead, but she knew what was on the other side. Magic. Surprises. The impossible. The colors she’d been missing from her life this past year. She looked over at Lhamu, who grinned back at her, the rainbow of lights from the portal reflecting on her face.
“Should we?” Lhamu asked, her body visibly tensing with the same excitement as Nima. “Can we?”
Nima laughed, the sound bouncing off the side of the mountain. Even Drew might have questioned this decision, but fate had provided her with the one companion who wanted to make this leap of faith as much as she did.
Nima slapped Lhamu on the shoulder. “Why wouldn’t we, little sister?”
Together they walked toward the shimmering oval of light, little arcs of colored ligh
tning dancing around its edges. Its misty interior gave no hints to where it might lead. Revealing none of its secrets.
Perfect.
She ran now, her boots pounding onto the mountain’s surface. The portal was only a few steps away, Lhamu matching her stride.
Nima pushed her boot into the snow before tensing for her leap, knowing it was likely the last time her body would ever touch the Earth. She left the ground as she jumped for the portal, Lhamu right beside her. In front of her was the swirling colored mist and on the other side would be the unknown.
Mystery and adventure.
Nima grinned, her heart singing as she passed through the magical gateway, knowing at last she was finally home.
Acknowledgments
At last, the summit is reached. Yet like any good expedition, it took the hard work, love and support of many people to help put me in the position where I might be able to compete this trilogy.
I’d like to highlight the contributions of:
My first reader: Aimee Kuzenski
My editor: Joshua Essoe
My cover artist: Holly Heisey
There is not enough words to express my gratitude for my wife’s consistent support, understanding and love as she helped me craft a group of stories that I am very proud of. She is my partner, my friend and I’m very fortunate to be on these crazy journey with her.
Additionally, I’d like to thank my friends and family for their support during the two years it took to get these three books into the world.
Most of all, I need to thank all of the wonderful readers I have met during this first year. Thank you so much for taking a chance on an unknown, independent author and his (admittedly) unusual take on a fantasy trilogy. If you enjoyed these stories, if they made you smile or gave you a few hours where you got to exist in another place – then I’ve accomplished what I set out to do.
