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#3
APR 15 |
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“The Whisper of the Mountain”
The mountain rose against the horizon, ominous and monolithic, blotting out the sun as it sank away from the world. From the base, it appeared as if the earth was being split in two, divided from below by a single invader striving for the skies. It was an awesome sight to behold and, for Jakita Wagner, it was a refreshing experience to be reminded of how small she was.
Ahead of her, a faded path passed into the dense fauna, swallowed by the overgrowth but no doubt climbing toward the rocky crags that climbed across the meridian line. Storms raged above that invisible divide; thunderheads and great mists swirling in impossible vortices. Somewhere amidst those clouds lay the peak, and only the strongest of men knew its secrets.
She had to admit she was impressed by the ferocity of the place, perhaps even enthralled by the prospects of it all. Without turning her gaze from the mountain, she asked, “You brought him here?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Elijah responded.
From behind her, she could hear as he brushed away the dust from his pristine white suit and found it strange that he would even bother. There would be no ease in this climb. The two of them would have to get dirty, they would have to test themselves to the physical limit, and if they were lucky, they would not be forced to bury the other one. Though, that did add a bit of allure.
It was precisely for that reason that the Drummer had been left behind. A monster in the information superworld, Drums would only have served to make their ascent that much more difficult. No, it was better to occupy him with the ongoing investigation while she and Snow saw to this foreign project.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she reminded Snow, setting her mind to task and marching toward the jungle.
In the snide tone that always echoed in his voice, Elijah responded, “I gave you sufficient answer for the question you asked.” He paused. “Now, if you mean the question you implied – well, that is a different matter entirely.”
Frustrated by the man already, she thrust her hands forward and ripped aside a twist of vine as thick and strong as steel cable. “I want to know how you managed to lug a dying man up this hillside. I want to know how you managed him – not to mention the medical equipment he’s permanently attached to – all by yourself. You’ve surprised me before, Elijah, but I’m not naïve enough to believe you accomplished this on your own.”
“Never claimed anything along those lines,” he replied, not skipping a beat. “The fact of the matter is, I owe you nothing by way of explanation. I could have pissed a river that flowed uphill and let him flow up the mountainside like the Baby Moses – for all it matters. You’d have no choice by to believe me. Those are, after all, your marching orders, are they not?”
For this, Snow earned a brief look back over her shoulder. “Trust and belief are too entirely different things. I trust in what you have to tell me because trust is solidifies our chance to succeed. Doesn’t mean I have to believe anything that comes out of your mouth.”
“Still bitter about your father?”
“You could say that.”
“Maybe now it’s time to let that go,” Elijah said, and from the tone of his voice she could tell he was leaning more toward order than suggestion.
She decided to let it lay there for now. Time permitting, she would come back to this moment and beat the information from him with her bare hands if she needed to. But, for now, she would have to live with the knowledge that she had never known her father – known in secret superhero circles as Lord Blackstock – beyond seeing renderings of his face in the annals of the Planetary Guides and listening to the tales told by one Doctor Axel Brass. She would have to cope with the idea that Snow had secreted this knowledge away from her, lording over it until he determined what time was right for her to know.
Lashing out with her foot, she kicked footholds into the sheer of a cliff face and dug her fingers into the centuries old rock, carving a path that Snow could follow up the mountain. “There are storms circling the top and a hellish terrain blocking the rise. How the hell did you get him all the way to the peak?”
Elijah snapped his tongue against the back of his teeth, and she could hear the chiding, grating sound above the din of her rock-carving. “You’re looking at the problem in the wrong light, Jakita. Why is it that you think I would have failed in my venture? When have I ever proven unreliable?”
“Well, there was that one time when you were mind-washed by the Four,” she reminded him.
“Completely a part of my plan, and a successful addition to such, I might add.”
Overhead, the sun strove to break through the dense canopy of foliage, only to be rebuffed and mocked for its efforts. Thin shards of light were permitted entrance periodically along the path, providing the only refuge from the faux-night of the jungle and the haunting surrender that came with it. Still, it was enough to help her spy an overhang jutting out above them.
Gripped tight into the rock, she let her body relax and become a mass of dead weight held in place only b what meager holds she had made for herself. When her mind reached perfect ease, she counted to three and then re-energized every muscle in her body. Kicking off the rock and using her hands to thrust downward simultaneously, she rocketed upward, covering a good hundred feet in three seconds flat. Securing her hold on the ledge, she turned back to Elijah and yelled out, “Give me a moment and I’ll pull you up.”
As usual, his retort was less-than-appreciative. “That’s mighty kind of you. Perhaps you could also send down an umbrella to catch the sordid crap you just kicked down at me.”
A thin smile crept across her face and she huffed slightly, glad for any misery should inflict upon the man. Recompense for her own hardships of late, she supposed. “Keep up the bitching and moaning, and I’ll leave you to rot on that cliff face.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
“I made it upward before, didn’t I?”
“Question is…do you want to do it again?”
And that was enough to cease his prattling, at least for the moment, and what glorious silence it was. Turning away from the cliff, she strode into the jungle in search of a suitable length of that steely vine. Alone for the moment with her thoughts, she wished that the Drummer were here. If nothing else, he could have acted as a buffer between her and Elijah, could have distracted her from wondering what other lies their boss had lies their boss had been telling them through the years. And beyond that, the fact that he tried to implicate the Drummer in the ruse, saying that he would have known just as much – it made her sick to even think of it. And yet, the whole situation plagued her every thought.
Worse, she wondered if she’d ever be able to let it go again.
Shan Líng leaned over his charge, examining the rise and fall of the man’s chest, content that his breathing seemed regular and unhindered. It had been a rough three weeks – even on this mountain of miracles – and there had been times where he was unsure whether or not the patient would survive another day. And yet, time had a way of assuaging his fears, and the patient had made amazing progress in such a short time.
Stepping around to the bedside, Shan Líng dipped a twist of gauze into the bowl of steaming waters, and then wrung the excess moisture from the cloth. He took great care in swabbing the sweat from the man’s forehead and cheeks, letting the natural heat of the cloth and the herbal vapors seep into the man’s skin. The topical was an age old recipe, composed of herbs that had long-since disappeared – or never existed – beyond the single mountain.
As he worked, bioluminescence dripped from his skin, bright and angelic as it seeped and faded into the darkness. It was his body’s natural reaction to the darkness, a glow to stray away the shadows and keep his body attuned to the world around him. In the daytime, it was different, with the luminescence replaced by darkness that rose like steam from a glassy, morning lake. Action and response, pure and simple.
Pacing to the window, he looked out upon the mountain and released a contented sigh. “They shall be here soon,” he said, adopting an encouraging tone. “Your friends have begun their ascent. I suspect it will take them little time to arrive in our midst.”
His charge remained quiet, but Shan Líng could see the eyes searching him out in the darkness. With a smile, he tried to reassure his charge, “You look at the situation from the wrong angles and assume that they left you here so as to forget about you. You could not be farther from the truth. As always, your safety was first in their minds, and placing you here – with me – allowed you time to recuperate away from the scornful glares of your enemies. That is the true nature of love – to keep safe that which you cannot cradle on your own.”
The rain beat down upon her head, stinging like tiny daggers against the surface of her skin. She found this particularly amusing. Pain didn’t typically register with her, and even though this was nothing more than a nuisance, it was still worth noting. Perhaps it was something to do with the mountain itself, somehow linked to its proto-mystical nature. She wasn’t quite sure, and with the Drummer half a world away, she would not get the satisfaction of a straight answer.
Turning back to Elijah, she noticed that he had discovered a different way to deal with the downpour. As the drops approached him, they passed through an aura of cold, hardening into icy crystal and then shattering entirely. Scoffing, she asked him, “What is it about you, Elijah? Why do you have a goddamned answer for everything?”
“If I did, Planetary would have no purpose,” Elijah shot back. “I make due with what I have, and I take those small pieces and turn it into something that works. That’s the secret of getting yourself through the world. There’s no such thing as completion. There’s just this façade of being control of your life. And in the end, that’s what gets you by.”
“Nothing’s ever that simple, Elijah.”
“Odd. To me, that seems to be anything but simple. In fact, the simplest way would be if everything came together accordingly with the way you thought it would.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “No, this seems to be more a way to explain things so they settle with us. Basic bullshit to drown out the worries. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, that’s the way it is.”
Flattening her back against the cliff wall, she stepped tenderly around a corner and found herself standing before a lush oasis. Behind her, Elijah scuttled around the cliff face and then stopped. Indicating the dense fauna and tumbling waterfalls, Jakita decided it was time for some answers. “What is this place, Snow? How the hell does it go from being Hell on Earth one minute to being Heaven the next?”
“It’s one of the last refuges on Earth. Legend always portrayed it as a city, a vast metropolis where miracles were worked, tucked away in a secluded valley somewhere in the Orient,” Elijah explained. “Lore always has a way of bending the truth to its needs, and in this case, the disparity of assorted tales served to protect this from being found.”
“But not from you.”
A sly smile spread across Snow’s face, and he nodded. “Very few truths in this world can stand up to my scrutiny. Frankly, I’d have it no other way.”
She shook her head at this – his habit of giving answers without really giving answers. It annoyed her to no end how he could preach about the finding of secrets and exposing the underbelly of the world, and yet, he still kept so much to himself. It just rang of hypocrisy. “So that puts us where?”
"Shangri-La. City of myths,” Elijah answered. He said it in a near-whisper, as if voicing the name of the city rang with such power. “The mountain means many things to many people, and no two experiences are the same. Everyone finds their own way to the peak, or they become disenfranchised and give up their search. Either way, the mountain holds for each of us something new, something different. And this is why I cannot guide you to the peak. You have to find your own path.”
“Choose your own adventure, huh?” Ahead, she could see the shadow of the peak rising in the distance, and it made her hopeful that the trip was coming to an end. Strangely, the sore spot between herself and Snow no longer seemed as burdensome. “Sounds like another defense mechanism.”
“No, the mountain has something else in those regards.” And Elijah followed Jakita into the shrubbery that had encroached upon the cliff, the foliage the hid the last bit of their journey. “Something less subtle and much more dangerous.”
Atop the mountain, Shan Líng stepped out from the ramshackle house and into the storm. The rains parted away from him, shying away from the brightness that emanated from his skin. Pausing just within hearing distance of his patient, he said, “I have spent many a year in this place, guarding it and preparing for what comes with the fall of each night. It is a restless existence, but one that holds me in both enthrallment and resignation. It is duty, curse, and lifelong dream – all rolled into one.”
The black man lying inside the house seemed not to register, but Shan Líng knew the man was listening. What else could he do, after all?” Outside, the storm clouds seemed to congeal, coming together in a large thunderhead and filling the sky with black.
Shan Líng seemed unbothered by this. “Every night it begins like this. First, there come the shadows. And then the dark things from the shadows. These are but the harbingers.” He paused for a moment. “What follows next is unspeakable in its horror. It is evil without name, and it is the purpose by which I am forced to fight a battle that has been waged for longer than generations can remember.”
Trailing back into the house, Shan Líng returned a wet cloth to his patient’s forehead. “And it will continue long after I have departed from this world. Once a century, a new guardian is chosen, and my time is drawing to a close. Even now, a six-year-old child sits unaware, half a world away. It is his destiny to succeed me, and with time, he too will feel the calling to this place. When he arrives at my doorstep, my journey will be completed, and he shall assume my mantle. My century shall close.”
A sharp scuffle resounded from behind him, and Shan Líng turned with only the slightest show of alarm. He smiled at the white-haired man and the Amazon as they entered his abode.
Snow extended his hand in greeting and shook firmly. “If only it were so simple for the rest of us born to the Century. Some doors, it seems, never close.”
“You too shall know your time, Mr. Snow,” Shan Líng returned and then smiled at Jakita. “I trust you found your path without too much hardship. You appear to be a woman who is well and truly capable.”
Jakita smiled at this, and Shan Líng was pleased to see it was genuine. She glanced sidelong at Elijah and said, “There were some difficulties, but those had nothing to do with the mountain. They should be worked out in time.”
“I am pleased to hear as much. As you can tell, the mountain gives bounteous rewards to those who are righteous enough to ascend its peak,” Shan Líng noted. He did this without turning toward his patient. Clearly, he meant something else. “Also, you will find that your friend is close to full recovery. He still lingers in silence, but I believe he will benefit from presence of those near to his heart.”
She glanced past him and a sense of relief fell across her face. Shan Líng smiled as he watched her take in the sight of her friend. Jakita seemed speechless for a short while, and then suddenly, she blurted out, “I still don’t understand why you brought him here, Snow. Wouldn’t the climb have killed him?”
“The mountain is both the safest and the most dangerous place on earth. It is located upon a thinness between worlds, and magicks bleed from many dimensions into this place. The mystical energies here are strong, and they have assured his recovery. Your enigmatic Mr. Snow was correct in bringing him here, to my care.” The luminescent radiation dripped from Shan Líng’s lips as he spoke, taking away Elijah’s opportunity to answer.
Jakita knelt at the bedside and slipped her hand around the patient’s fingers, and she squeezed as tight as she dared. “It’s been a good while, Ambrose. Bet you thought we lost you.”
The black man turned his head just slightly toward the sound of her voice. His eyes remained closed. In a hoarse whisper, he replied, “I had my doubts. After awhile, you start to lose track of how long you’ve been broken. Start to wonder if this is it.”
“We came back as soon as we could. It was just a long road,” Jakita assured him.
“Glad you did,” Ambrose responded, and with that, he turned back to the ceiling.
A few seconds later, his breathing leveled out into a sleep pattern. Shan Líng stepped to the woman’s side and offered, “It would be a good opportunity to begin your descent. I am sure you’re anxious to get home, and Mr. Chase, more so.”
As Jakita scooped Ambrose’s prone body into her arms, Elijah turned back to their host and said, “There are no words to express how thankful I am for your help in this.”
“There will come a time, Mr. Snow,” Shan Líng began. “And in that time, there will be great perils to face. This is not the only thin place in the world, and I fear the thinness may soon be exploited. I will not be enough to stand against it. I may call upon you then, and I trust that you will come.”
“You have my word,” Elijah responded.
Shan Líng nodded. He paced into a dark corner of the cabin and sat down. “Then what I have is good, and what you have it a second chance. Do not waste what opportunities come of this. For most, there is only a single attempt at life.”
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To Be Continued...
Next: In Planetary #3: Old Friends! Old Rivals! Hidden Truths! Ghosts from the past!
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