White Devil Mountain (7 page)

Shrugging his broad shoulders, the man said, “If you were of a mind to, you could climb it from anywhere. Only you’d be stranded before you’d climbed fifty yards, I kid you not. Every place but here the rock goes straight up more than a hundred yards. What’s more, you’ve got an overhang at the top. Oh, what have we here?” On seeing the lady doctor and the giant of a man racing closer, the middle-aged man furrowed his brow. “Those two climbing too? Well, good luck with that!”

When he turned to face D again, the young man in black was already through the doorway. As he listened to the snow crunching under the hasty footfalls of the approaching pair, the man looked up at the sky above.

The light had dimmed. Clouds had formed. And on seeing the white flecks dancing on the slope before him, the man shuddered.

“So, the second that young fella went through, maybe the only clear day we’ll see all winter goes to pot? And now we’ve got snow, to boot. This is gonna be a snowstorm. A hell of a time to be climbing Mount Shilla. Who in blazes is this guy?”

“Looks like they’re following us,” the hoarse voice remarked when the Hunter came to a sign marking two thousand yards above sea level.

It’d taken D less than an hour to climb that far. Mount Shilla reached 3,657 yards above sea level. It was a little less than twenty-five hundred yards from the village of Mungs to the top of the mountain.

“Another fifteen hundred yards—compared to the Great Mountains of Madness in the southern Frontier, that’s child’s play . . . but they don’t have any Noble castles on ’em, I suppose. From here on out, there’s a route, but no path. The monsters out in the snow are probably limbering up their tentacles. If we reach the aircraft and there are wounded up there, we won’t be able to bring ’em down. We don’t even know if Duke Gilzen is still shut in his coffin or not.”

Through this gloomy commentary, D silently gazed at the mountain peak. His whole body had already been plastered in white. While it wasn’t exactly a blizzard, in another five minutes the wind-whipped snow would probably earn that name.

Setting down the pack that’d been over his shoulder, D opened it and pulled out a red paper bag. It was a heat pack intended for mountain climbing in winter. Sticking it inside his coat, D looked off to the right—and up at the snowy path that continued all the way to a rocky ridge. The path was lined on both sides with white rocks. Atop one of those to the right was a creature whose white hide was flecked with black spots, clearly poised to pounce. Had D caught its faint snarl? Or had he merely sensed its presence?

A stark flash of light shot from D’s right hand, searing through the cold air. Piercing the snow panther’s hide, it struck a rock a few yards distant.

“Oh, so it vanished, did it? Look for the black spots.”

Still in the act of reaching for the hilt of his longsword, D became a statue. His eyes squinted to a thread-thin line. At the focus of his gaze—an area of white snow about ten yards ahead—black dots came into view, and D moved forward with slow, almost gliding actions. The instant it was at his feet, D’s right hand flashed into action.

The unique snarl of a carnivore rang out, and bright blood scattered on the snow to D’s rear. Returning a sword devoid of even a drop of blood to its sheath, D turned around for a look.

The foe he’d slain with a single blow, guided not by sight but by instinct, was slowly taking shape on the white snow. Its form, semitransparent like a jellyfish, had been cleft in two in a manner that could only be described as exquisite, but the beast didn’t have a single black spot on it. The black dots still lay scattered in front of D, undisturbed. They were to draw the attention of the creature’s prey, allowing it an opportunity to strike them from behind. This was something only a creature able to blend in with the snow could do, but the trick hadn’t trumped D’s superhuman senses.

“By the way,” said the hoarse voice, “that snow panther wasn’t after us initially. Which means—”

The beast’s target had been off to D’s right. Where the strange rocks were lined up.

Silently, D began climbing the snowy trail.

“Hey, are you just gonna ignore ’em? From the sound of the breathing, it’s a human!”

D must’ve noticed that from the moment he first encountered the snow panther. But the young man was ready to ignore the person and move on.

Chortling, the hoarse voice said, “I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t just like you. Just make sure you won’t regret this later, you hear?”

“The doctor’s coming up behind us.”

D extended his right hand. The wooden needles he’d hurled at the snow panther had struck the strange rock beside him. Four needles were clustered within a half inch of each other. Grabbing the lot and pulling them out, D took one of the needles and threw it again. It was aimed at the same rock the snow panther had been facing.

There was a strident sound, and the needle split in two. That was followed by the clink of a sword returning to its sheath, and then a figure stepped out from behind the rock carrying something wrapped in a battered thermal cape.

“Is that how you always say hello?”

Taking her hand away from the sword on her back and using it to support the worn cape as she smiled at the young man was none other than the Huntress Lilia.

The watchman for this route up the mountain had said no one had been there since daybreak. Lilia had undoubtedly gone over the gate before that.

Before she could get another word out, D said, “The village doctor will be along shortly. Have her look at that kid.”

The fighting female made a surprised face. “You knew it was a child? He’s got some scratches, so was it the smell of his blood that tipped you off, I wonder? After all, you’re a dham—”

Lilia held her tongue. D had already turned his back to her. Flustered, she called after him, “You know, it’s great that you’re really focused on your job and all, but do you just intend to run off and leave the kid to the women? Huh?”

Lilia put her right ear against the bundle in the cape.

“And on top of everything, he seems to know you,” she said. “He keeps calling out, ‘Mr. D! Mr. D!’ ”

D didn’t halt. He’d already covered more than thirty yards.

“Give it up, sonny. I didn’t think he was as cold as all that. Though for a pro, that’s perfectly natural, I suppose.” Crinkling her brow, Lilia set the figure wrapped in the thermal cape down on the ground. “He threw that needle of his to mark your location, but I cut it down. If I leave you out here, they’ll be able to see you. Look! See those two down there? They’ll be here in another seven or eight minutes. If anything weird jumps you in the meantime, you’ll just have to chalk it up to piss-poor luck. I’m a pro, too.”

And then, making a looping cruciform gesture that those in the western Frontier believed warded against bad luck, she headed after D without a backward glance.

The wind and snow had begun to intensify.

New Life

chapter 3

I

A
t midday the snowstorm started in earnest. As the wildly dancing snow of the blizzard denied even D his sight, the hoarse voice groaned, “This ain’t good. I bet you can’t see three feet in front of us!” Its languid tones were torn away by the wind. “I’m getting sleepy, too. There’ll be trouble if we don’t find us someplace to sleep.”

“I slapped on a heat pack.”

“That little thing doesn’t count for squat. It’s the temperature outside that’ll decide if we live or die.”

It was most likely already five degrees below zero or worse. D’s form was dissolving into the blizzard, and the snow was now up to his knees. If a normal human didn’t find shelter under these conditions, they’d freeze to death inside of five minutes. Even for one descended from the ageless and undying Nobility, walking was becoming physically impossible, with his speed now less than ten yards an hour. While pressing on wouldn’t be impossible, it would be pointless.

D surveyed his surroundings. Turning toward the mountainside, he put out his left hand. Immediately a sleepy voice responded, “Walk along the side of the mountain about fifty yards. There’s a cave.”

He reached it soon enough. The cavern was elliptical, looking to be twenty feet high at its highest point and over six and a half at the lowest, though it was half-filled with snow. It was rather deep, and the snow no longer gusted in when he’d ventured five yards from the entrance. Before long the wind would probably change direction. At any rate, this was the best D could do until the blizzard had blown itself out.

D continued toward the rear. The cavern was quite deep. Though there was no trace of any creatures lurking there, it would be too dangerous not to check anyway. Once he’d been attacked, it would be too late.

About ten yards in, his progress was checked by a rock wall. He pressed the palm of his left hand against it, and the hoarse voice quickly responded, “It’s okay. It’s the real deal.”

The Hunter turned and was about to go back the way he’d come, but halted. A shadow stretched out before him. Only half as dark as an ordinary shadow, it was that of a dhampir born of both human and Noble lineage. And strangely, there was no light there to cast any shadows. D had already slipped into combat mode. His right hand came up naturally, no doubt ready to shoot for the hilt of his longsword in the shortest possible time. Yet two seconds passed without any tension or killing lust. D turned around.

Where the rock wall had been the cave now continued on, and five or six yards ahead of the Hunter flames blazed. A campfire. Sap bubbled to the surface of the roughly broken tree branches. There was no one there. The area behind it was blocked by the cavern walls.

“Seems we’ve fallen into a psychological attack.”

It was unclear what, if anything, D made of the hoarse voice’s words, for he was emotionless as he approached the little fire. He hadn’t needed the hoarse voice to tell him someone had launched a psychological attack. The question was—how had he fallen for it? Whatever lurked in that cave on the snowy mountain, it had gotten the better of D’s instincts and his superhuman senses. Was this why the place was called White Devil Mountain?

He held his left hand out over the flames. They were hot. Slowly he lowered it again. Though the hoarse voice didn’t cry out, the Hunter felt the heat all the way to his bones. It seemed to be a real fire. However, his left hand didn’t react to it.

D put out his left hand again—and at that instant the scene all around him distorted. The howl of an enormous beast shredded the snow and wind, and a gigantic white form filled the cave. The snow that whisked into the air from the thud of the fallen body mixed with fresh vermilion, and it fell like rain on a huge, twitching white carcass.

D gave a light shake of his head. He was throwing off the scant vestiges of the illusion beast’s glamour. Its titanic maw was still open, with more than ten feet separating its upper jaw from the lower one. Each of those bore a pair of huge, yard-long molars. The form on the whole resembled the mouth of a hippopotamus. Yet the head and body combined only reached a length of six and a half feet. D saw several dead branches at the back of its lower jaw. It must have used those branches to convince humans who entered the cave that they were seeing a fire. And that was how it invited them right into its mouth. Because it showed humans in the snowy mountains the first thing they desired, the beast probably also possessed a slight ability to read minds.

Snow and wind broadsided the Hunter. The whole cave had been an illusion.

“That was a close one, eh?”

On the snowfield off to the right, a figure swaddled in a winter coat had just gotten up. He identified himself, saying, “It’s Crey. Remember me?” When he showed the Hunter the knife in his right hand, it was wet with fresh blood. Apparently even his thick gloves didn’t impede its use. He pulled off his goggles and tugged down his muffler, and sure enough, there was the face of the outlaw.

“Did you collapse on the way up here?” D asked. The man’s sudden rise from the snow must have garnered his interest.

“That’s a hell of a way of putting it. I came this far on my own ’cause you told me I was outta luck. Not bad, eh? My coat’s got a thermostat, and you can even toss on the hood and use it as a sleeping bag. Hell, you could sleep out in cold like this for twenty-four hours straight, no problem. It’s the latest thing, ordered special from the eastern Frontier. Speaking of which, you’re not wearing a winter coat, are you?”

Pounding the chest of his own bulky coat, he continued, “It’s bad enough that illusion beast pulled you in, but I’m surprised you can even walk in a snowstorm like this without a winter coat, goggles, a muffler, or anything. You guys with Noble blood are a breed apart!”

“Are you the one that killed it?”

They were alone on the snow-whipped expanse. Nevertheless, a grin rose to Crey’s lips at that odd question.

“Damn straight. Only it wasn’t just me. It was them, too.” The outlaw gave a toss of his chin to the snowy trail to D’s rear.

Before D could turn and look, three figures came into view—in a perfect line of small, medium, and large sizes. To be precise, there were actually four of them. A tiny figure bundled in a winter coat was strapped to the back of the giant, Dust.

“That was a close call, D.”

Her mask was pulled down, but Dr. Vera still clutched a rifle. Judging by the size of the sighting mechanism, it was undoubtedly equipped with a digital-imaging virtual scope. Just point it in the right direction and it would deliver an image clear of fog or gusting snow—making a precise sniper shot possible even when those factors reduced visibility to less than three feet. It was unclear whether or not D had noticed the bullet hole that had appeared in the head of the illusion beast.

“You owe us, D,” the tall, lithe figure beside the doctor—Lilia—said patronizingly.

“It’s okay. Think nothing of it.” Vera smiled at him. “I’m a doctor, but I was forced to take a life.”

“Don’t sweat it, Doc. Our selfish friend Mr. Sexy Pants here brought it on himself. He tried to be cool and go up alone, but he just ended up walking right into an illusion beast’s mouth and needing his bacon saved. Sure you haven’t forgotten the basics, D?” Lilia said, staring daggers at him through her goggles.

II

The sound of a running shower could be heard, mixed with a whistled melody.

“That’s ‘The Nobles’ Moon.’ A very popular tune in the Capital more than a decade ago.”

As she shared that tidbit with D, who was leaning back against one wall, the doctor trained a look of boundless compassion on the face of the tiny figure lying in bed. Lourié’s face was red and puffy, and his breath as hot as fire.

“I’m amazed one so small climbed as far as he did in this snow. He set out before dawn. Must really have had a good reason, wouldn’t you say?”

Apparently Lourié hadn’t told the doctor about his father yet. No doubt his poor equipment and his exhaustion had brought on his high fever.

“By the look of him, he’s coming down with pneumonia. I have some medicine with me, but it’s not likely to work on something this serious. Now it’s just up to his own strength.”

“This is one of the Nobility’s portable refuges,” D said in a flat tone. Vera’s cheeks flushed. The young man’s voice was that gorgeous. “It should be stocked with medical supplies.”

From off in the distance, Lilia called out in reply, “I bought this refuge from a traveling merchant. The medicine and weapons were sold separately. Too rich for my blood.”

Vera dropped her gaze. She had an uncommon number of wrinkles for her age, and her expression suggested she was about to earn more.

Merchants who specialized in buying and selling the Nobility’s things—everything from everyday goods to weapons and magical apparatus—met several different kinds of welcome out on the Frontier. In impoverished villages, the merchants might be killed or at least robbed of their wares, while in wealthy villages they would be paid whatever price they asked. The merchants were also in the habit of changing their goods in an effort to maximize profits. Take this refuge, for example: some merchants might throw in the weapons and medical supplies at no extra cost.

“In any case,” the doctor continued, “why did he come up here all alone? If nobody tried to stop him, there’s not much we can do about that, but if someone goaded him into it, I’ll curse them for as long as I live.”

“Will he make it?” D inquired.

“As I just said, it all comes down to the boy’s constitution. If we had just one of the Nobility’s nutrient supplements, he’d be all set in five minutes’ time, but all we can do here is sit back and watch.”