White Devil Mountain (12 page)

“Tell me something, Doctor: does it hurt when you die?” Lourié asked in a trembling voice as Vera lay over him like a shield.

“It’s all right,” she said to him kindly. “It’ll all be over soon.”

Silence enveloped the white world. The next time the killing lust coalesced, death would be unleashed, falling down upon them.

“Damn it all!” Crey groaned. Did he still vainly cling to an urge to fight?

The darkness increased in depth.

A scream rang out. At the same time, the reports of rifles echoed in the air.

“What’s that?” Crey twisted around with the agility of a beast.

Something had appeared on the snowfield ahead of them—where the mountain folk lurked. Crey could see one spot where the darkness was unnaturally heavy. Another scream resounded, so mindless it changed the looks on both Dust’s and Vera’s faces.

“Please, help me!” someone cried in a human tongue. “Don’t come any closer—stay back—nooooooo!”

The cry was cut short, and a single gunshot echoed across the snowfield. And then—stillness.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Crey inquired in a low tone. He didn’t know how, but the mountain folk had been wiped out in the blink of an eye—that much was certain. But rather than rejoicing, this was cause for whispering. How he knew that, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s coming!” Dust said.

“What is?” asked Vera. Beside her, Lourié too had his eyes peeled.

“The darkness. Look.” Crey seemed to understand.

A faint darkness enveloped the group’s surroundings. A still-denser darkness was slowly closing on where the mountain folk had been. Whatever lay within it had wiped out the mountain folk. It had dealt with cannibals of unparalleled wickedness in mere seconds. At the very least, it seemed unlikely to pay them a friendly call.

“Doc,” Dust called to the woman, keeping his voice low. “Take care of that kid.”

Perhaps realizing that the man wasn’t talking about defending him, the boy’s face went as white as a sheet.

II

“Do you know what it is?” Crey asked, sounding tense for the first time.

“I don’t wanna think about it—”

Dust’s reply wasn’t really an answer at all, but it pointed Vera’s mind at the impossible.
It can’t be. It just can’t.
But it was something that could throw a shadow across the sun, and use the darkness while slaughtering humans.
It can’t be.

“Jump for it, Doc!” Crey shouted.

“Huh?”

“If that’s what I think it is, you’re better off dead. Plus, Lilia’s at the bottom of the ravine. She’s a dirty dealer, but she’d probably help you folks, at least.”

“Yeah, do it,” Dust advised her.

“Okay, but only if you guys do, too.”

“I ain’t too taken with the idea of splattering in the ravine,” Crey replied, his eyes focused straight ahead. “Besides, turning tail without a fight’s as good as suicide. That don’t sit too well with me. If you’re taking anyone with you, make it your bodyguard over there.”

“As soon as I’m dead, jump for it.” Dust’s eyes, too, were trained straight ahead. There was no question he was an excellent bodyguard.

“I can’t do that. Dust—I . . .”

“There’s no way around it. As far as the business with my daughter, sorry about that—but at any rate, my job here is to keep you safe.”

“Five yards off. Hurry up and get going!”

Dust got up. “You’re up next!”

“Leave it to me!” Crey thumped his chest. Still, there was something untrustworthy about the man. In the fateful moment when their lives hung in the balance, there was no telling whether or not he’d come through for them.

The heavens howled. The darkness enveloped Dust.

“Stop!” Vera cried out.

Her cry was coupled with a shout of “Don’t go!” from the diminutive figure that dashed from her side—Lourié.

“Mister!” The tone of the boy’s voice spoke volumes about a bond that he’d apparently forged with the rough giant of a man during this trip. His tiny form was swallowed by the darkness. Or rather, the boy plunged into it on his own.

At the instant pitch blackness closed him off from the world, Lourié stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t due to the cold, nor was it out of fear of the omnipresent black that plastered his field of view. He was paralyzed to the very marrow of his bones by a presence that radiated darkness. And it wasn’t so much a
something
—it was
someone
! A short distance from him, he sensed Dust’s presence. But there was someone else in the darkness!

So good of you to come.

Those were the words Lourié’s ears caught. He couldn’t quite tell if it was a voice or the sound of the wind. But he felt certain that the words came from the other presence. Was it a man, a woman, or the wind? That he couldn’t say. And yet, he felt quite distinctly that the source of that voice or sound was shrouded in delight.

So good of you to come.

He heard it again.

I’ve been waiting. Waiting for young blood brimming with life. My child, I shall catch your blood in a golden goblet and drink it dry.

“Who is that?” Lourié finally managed to ask. “Who . . . Who are you? You called me your child—I don’t know you!”

My children number in the millions
, said the presence.
Now, you shall join their ranks. Consider it an honor.

“Stop it!” Dust bellowed, but he seemed a million miles away.

“I came up here in search of my father. You—you’d better stay away!”

Suddenly, the presence stood before the boy. He couldn’t even speak. Thought itself eluded him. It was as though the daunting mass of a rock wall loomed before him. No interest as to the nature of this being stirred in him. Its very existence was too strange.

Come.

What was that supposed to mean?

A part of Lourié’s anatomy suddenly stopped. At the same time, the presence quavered. A slight abnormality had occurred in a star that’d formed over the course of hundreds of millions of years. It had been introduced from the outside.

This time the boy heard it clearly
. Interesting
, the presence murmured. The voice held clear surprise—and a ring of being deeply touched.
You should see this, too.

Lourié felt something heavy come to rest on his shoulders. Were they hands? His body turned like it was a sheet of paper.

And Lourié saw. He couldn’t tell how far off it was. But he was there. The figure in black had a rifle in one hand and was staring his way in a manner that could only be called quiet. But how beautiful was the face below that traveler’s hat! It was the unearthly air that radiated from every inch of him that made it seem so. The snowstorm abated. No fear. Even the wind stopped. Intoxicating. D.

I recognize him as my foe
, the voice declared close to the boy’s ear.
A foe for which I, Duke Gilzen, would search the entire world.

The next instant Lourié found himself standing alone, whipped by the wind and snow. A number of voices were calling his name. He felt neither relief nor excitement. The wind struck his cheeks, and snowflakes melted against him. Oddly enough, he didn’t even feel the cold.

“Are you all right?”

That was Dust. His rough hand caught the boy’s shoulder, shaking him. Both head and body wobbled.

“I’m fine,” he replied.

“Are you okay, Lourié?”

That was the doctor, Vera. Her face was right in front of his. She was peering at him intently. Her worried expression changed.

“That’s odd.” Reaching out one hand, she lifted his eyelid. There was no pain. He didn’t even shed a tear. She took his right hand. “His pupils are dilated. And he doesn’t have a pulse.”

Dust’s eyes glinted with curiosity.

Vera put her hand under the boy’s nose, waited about three seconds, and then shook her head. As she gazed at Lourié, she wore a look of terrible solitude and loss. She stated plainly, “This child is dead.”

“Nonsense!”

Even Crey raced over.

Dust conducted the same tests as the doctor, saying, “I can’t believe it, but it’s true. The kid . . .” Not surprisingly, he couldn’t bring himself to say the rest: . . .
is a corpse
.

“But you can speak, right?”

“Yes,” Lourié said with a nod.

“And it seems you can move your body. How about your senses?”

“I’m not cold.”

The doctor pinched his cheek. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

“Nothing at all.” Vera heaved a sigh. “I really shouldn’t be saying this, but what the blazes is going on here?”

“Squirt, can you remember anything?”

Lourié had already prepared himself for that question. “
He
came up to me—and all of a sudden, I just stopped.”

“
He?
” Dust furrowed his brow. While he’d been enveloped by the same darkness, apparently he hadn’t seen anything.

Lourié closed his eyes. He wasn’t tracing back through his memories; he was guarding against the waves of terror bearing down on him.

“Huge like a rocky mountain, and cold as a wall of ice . . .” he mumbled. Both his voice and his body trembled.

After a bit, Vera murmured, “A Noble, then?” It was a solid conclusion.

“Is that what lived up on this mountain?” Crey ran his fingers back through his hair. “You mean the one who ran the whole Frontier back before we had it divvied up like we do now? I heard he was a real demon, so mean other Nobles would look away. As I recall—”

“He was banished for defying the Sacred Ancestor, attacked, and sealed away deep in the earth,” Vera continued. “I haven’t heard any rumors, but the aircraft that crashed on the mountain . . . Could it be . . .”

They all stopped moving. Horrifying memories gave them the expressions of the dead. They were ultimately revived by the boy.

“But we’ve got
him
on our side.” His voice had such a ring of hope to it; it was easy to forget the wind-whipped snow. “He’s a lot bigger than the other guy, and a lot stronger, and much colder—and yet so much warmer, too.”

“Who’s that?” Crey asked, his features twisted in mock puzzlement.

“Don’t play dumb,” Dust told the outlaw, grabbing him by the elbow.

“You got me there.”

“He saved you, didn’t he?” Vera inquired gently.

“That’s right.” The boy nodded.

“Then he’ll probably help you again. I’m sure he must know a way of turning you human again.”

The boy knew it, too. No matter what became of the world, there was always hope. He realized that in the darkness.

The wind and snow that lashed them were merciless. Yet a mysterious feeling of goodwill enveloped the four of them. It was almost a sort of warmth.

“Anyway, shouldn’t we set up camp or something?” Crey suggested, coming back to reality.

“You’re right. We’ll freeze out here. And we’ve got to come up with a plan for getting over that ridge.”

“Keep an eye on the kid.”

Dust had just walked over to where his gear had been set down when Crey called to him, “Hold up.”