Chapter Fifteen

"A Dramok in the ground forces. A group commander, no less."

Conyod glowered at Vel as the Nobek shook his head as if to say what is the world coming to? As he'd feared, his parent clan's reception of his newest lover had been chilly. Tuher and Sema were distant, but they'd been polite enough to return Erybet's bow of greeting. Vel had accorded the slightest of nods to both the Dramok and Sletran. Lafec stood staring at Conyod's sweethearts, her expression openly sullen. She had yet to speak.

They wore worn, dirty work clothes. It was early in the day, so there was no reason for Clan Tuher to look so slovenly. When Conyod had stared at Sema's pants, crusted with straw and remnants of the mash they fed the kestarsh once a day, he'd shrugged. "Life on the ranch. Work doesn't disappear just because guests show up."

Unwanted guests, Conyod corrected in his mind. Sema and Tuher might have presented the least opposition against his life choices, but they'd make clear their shared opinion he belonged on the ranch under their watchful eyes, nonetheless.

Erybet hadn't reacted to his parents' obvious resistance to his presence. He smiled, spoke of his delight to meet them, and complimented the ranch. "This country is beautiful. It makes this military brat wish he'd had the opportunity to experience life off the base more."

Which had elicited Vel's comment hinting a Dramok had no place in the ground forces.

"My whole family was a part of Kalquor's defense. They forcibly retired my mother, of course, but we love it anyway. There's no more fulfilling career to my mind. This ranch is challenging my assumption, however. Conyod says your kestarsh are the most sought after on the continent."

"We've worked hard for our reputation. Conyod himself is an excellent trainer. We wish he'd chosen that route." Tuher's features were frozen.

Erybet met the other Dramok's gaze. "If I'm fortunate to win your son as my clanmate, I have no intention of keeping him from you. He'll visit as much as he chooses, no less. I hope to add to his life, not subtract others he loves from it. My first thought, my only thought, is to do right by Conyod in every area of his life I'm capable of."

Conyod's stomach churned as he waited for his parents' response to the bald statement. For a couple of heart-stopping seconds, there was none.

Then Lafec's shoulders sagged, as if she'd been handed an expected defeat. Her tone wasn't friendly, but there was no antagonism either when she motioned to Conyod, Erybet, and Sletran to follow her to the house. "Come in and let us offer you a proper greeting and refreshments, Dramok Erybet. We can take a few minutes from our chores."

* * * *

Dusk found the trio riding a trail beyond the borders of the ranch. Conyod and Sletran rode, at any rate. Erybet had to settle for clinging desperately to his saddle as his mount, a typically sedate mare named Adwal, let her displeasure known to be ridden by someone who had no idea what he was doing.

Conyod stifled a laugh as Erybet rocked precariously when Adwal's smooth gait was interrupted by a couple of kicks from her middle pair of legs.

"I know!" the hapless Dramok shouted at the mare. "I'm like a sack of gusasp, and you aren't a pack animal. I swear, I'm trying."

Dresk, whom Conyod rode, bumped his muzzle against Adwal's neck. Conyod sensed Dresk was offering both sympathy and a warning to the mare. Then the kestarsh stallion offered his head to Erybet to help steady him.

"Thanks," the Dramok said. He scratched Dresk between his pointed ears. "At least you accept me."

Dresk tossed his head in a nod.

"If the guys at the base could see you now," Sletran chuckled to Erybet.

"I'm glad they can't. My pride is taking a beating." He laughed though, in good spirits despite Adwal's hijinks.

Conyod believed between his parent clan and the kestarsh, if Erybet did decide to stick around, he was a definite keeper. Clan Tuher had maintained a polite distance while they and Erybet had gotten acquainted at breakfast, then during the riding lessons in the corral in the afternoon. Conyod consoled himself they'd treated his intended Dramok no worse than they did Sletran. As far as the beasts had been concerned, none of the mares had taken to Erybet's clumsy attempts to ride. As irritable as she was, Adwal had been the least troublesome, so when they'd decided to hit the trail for an hour, she'd drawn what she no doubt believed to be the short straw.

Erybet had remained cheerful throughout the ordeal. When the kestarsh's tricks during the riding lesson had elicited laughter from those who watched, he'd laughed loudest of all. His acceptance as the butt of the animals' abuse showed no sign of being forced. Conyod was certain his amused patience had gone a long way to earning Dresk's accord.

"How does it compare to combat training?" Conyod asked as Erybet held the grip hard when Adwal danced from side to side the moment Dresk turned away.

"Let's just say I'm glad this lady isn't able to shoot a blaster."

Conyod and Sletran howled as Dresk stared at Adwal until she steadied her stride again.

Sletran suddenly sat up straighter on his mount. "Who…what's that?"

Conyod gazed in the direction of his stare. A small shape in white flitted among the rocks in the foothills ahead, then disappeared.

He drew Dresk to a stop, and the others halted too. His heart pounded. "It was small."

"It looked like a child to me," Erybet said. "Who lives in this area?"

"No one. The ranch is the closest place for miles."

"If it is a child, it's late for him to be in an area where he could be hurt. Maybe he's the ghost boy the ranch hands told me about? Here's our chance to solve the mystery." Far from nervous, the Dramok appeared excited to glimpse the local legend.

"We should find out, especially if a kid's involved." Sletran spurred his mount and raced forward.

"Come on, Adwal. If you run fast, you might get your wish of me falling off," Erybet urged. Tossing her head, she took him up on the challenge and galloped in Sletran's wake.

Dresk went in motion despite Conyod not urging him to, chasing his mares. He easily overtook them and shortened his stride to stay close.

Conyod's gaze was on the mountain looming over him, but he wasn't searching for the figure that had damned near glowed in the growing dusk. His stare was for a certain outcropping stabbing at the sky about a third of the way up the mountain.

The Pinnacle on Mount Evar. It had been behind there where Ges' blood had been found after she'd limped home and Hoslek had disappeared.

The land started to incline. They were climbing toward the mountain. A scream welled in Conyod's throat. It was the closest he'd been to it since Hoslek's death, and he felt it reaching for them, eager to add to its monstrous tally.

"This is the spot where we saw whatever was here." Sletran drew up and began to circle the large boulders dotting the ground.

"A child could be in trouble," Erybet murmured to Adwal. "Let's help search."

She shot him a baleful glare over her shoulder as if to say of course we'll look, you idiot.

Conyod forced his gaze to relinquish its fascination from the Pinnacle, still many yards up, to inspect the ground in hopes of discovering tracks. The gathering gloom made it necessary for him to slip off Dresk's back to examine the rocky surface better.

Sletran ranged in widening circles, searching as he called, "Hey! Boy! Come out. Let us know you're okay."

There was no answer. Neither the rocky ground nor the sporadic patches of coarse knee-high grass offered Conyod any clues.

"It could have been an animal," Erybet muttered. "I saw those huge avians flying around earlier today. They're as big as a child near in his teens, and they're light colored."

"Tohiks," Conyod confirmed. Relief washed over him to have a valid alternative to a child roaming in the area. "It could have been one."

"It didn't look like a bird to me," Sletran said, but he brought his mount to a halt and studied the sky, slightly glowing as the sun sank behind the mountains. "No response to my shouts. It's getting too dark to search, thanks to the loose rocks and crevices that could injure the kestarsh if they step in them." He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed in a final attempt to elicit an answer. "Hey! If there's someone here, yell back!"

Only the singing nocturnal drils, waking to the sunset, answered him as the men waited in silence for nearly a minute.

"I guess it was a bird." Sletran appeared far from happy as he turned his mount's head toward the ranch. "Let's take it slow. It'll be dark before we reach the grasslands."

Conyod relaxed as they put the mountain and its mocking stone needle behind them.

* * * *

Conyod was awakened by loud voices and the thumping of running feet an instant before Sletran gripped his shoulder. "Something's up," the Nobek said unnecessarily.

Trained for military emergencies, he and Erybet were out of bed already. They yanked on their clothes. Conyod was only a beat slower as excited calls for saddling the kestarsh rang from the distant Tuher and Vel.

The trio hurried from Conyod's childhood sleeping room. The Imdiko knew from the feel of his parents' home no one was inside, and he led Sletran and Erybet outdoors.

The sun had yet to rise, but outdoor lights revealed a number of men from neighboring properties and the village had gathered on kestarsh near the corral. Clan Tuher and their ranch hands were already leading readied kestarsh, including Dresk, from the stables. Lafec whirled as her son and his friends hurried to her side.

"Shuttle crash up on Mount Evar. Emergency com channels recorded the pilot calling they were going down, then silence. The craft's emergency transponder must have been damaged because nobody can lock on its position."

"No sign of fire," Sletran noted as he stared in the distance where they'd searched for the ghost the evening prior.

"None. You're trained for rescue work, so Vel's assigned you to lead a party."

"I'm trained for rescues as well. If a kestarsh will cooperate with my pathetic riding skills—" Erybet began.

"In this situation, they'll do their job," Lafec said. "You'll take Adwal, since she knows best what to expect from you."

Conyod noted her attention swinging to him from the corner of his eye. He was staring at the mountain, which hung in menace as the first light of dawn lit its brutal face. Of course the shuttle had gone down there. The fucking peak was cursed, determined to destroy as many lives as it could.

"Tuher insisted they ready Dresk, my son. If you decide to stay here, I can use the help coordinating the search parties, emergency supplies, and readiness for when they return with the shuttle passengers." She didn't say survivors or bodies since it could go either way.

Or maybe the rescuers would come back emptyhanded, as they had after the search for Hoslek.

"I'll go on Dresk," he heard his thin voice say. "They'll need everyone."

"Conyod—" Lafec started to protest.

"We do need you. You'll join me and Erybet," Sletran said.

"That mountain—" Lafec tried again.

"Don't worry about me." Conyod pretended to exude the reassurance he needed as much as she did. "You have a job to do. Don't let me hold you up."

Protest was written on her features, but Lafec knew better than anyone what was at stake. She finally glared at Sletran and Erybet. "Watch over him. Be careful, my son." She hurried off, her mouth working as if to hold in a scream.

Conyod saw rather than experienced himself walking to Dresk and mounting him. He heard where Vel assigned them to search from an immense distance. He floated in a dream…a nightmare…behind Sletran and Erybet as they trotted toward Evar on the trail they'd traveled when they'd searched for the ghost.

We're venturing nowhere near where Hoslek was last known to be.He tried to reassure his mind, which unlike his numbed body was red-hot and frantic in fear. I'm not going to that spot. It's too far down from where a shuttle would crash. We'd see the vessel if it were there.

Nonetheless, the closer they approached the forbidding peak, the greater his disassociation from his body. In contrast, the hysteria in his skull climbed. Conyod fought to breathe normally. He tried to convince his pounding heart to steady. He did his best to force aside the grayness at the edges of his vision.

It's just a panic attack. Once we're climbing up, once we're past the level of the Pinnacle and nothing terrible happens, I'll be okay. Come on, Conyod, there are people up there who need help. Get control!

However, as they passed the level where they'd been in their search for the flickering shape of the night before, he couldn't ignore the fact that he was growing worse. His pulse thundered in his ears. His vision was tunneling, and he couldn't stop staring at the ominous Pinnacle despite not having to confront it. It filled his vision, a nightmare point jabbing the sky, hiding the very spot where Hoslek had probably lost his life…

"Conyod?"

The Imdiko gasped. Startled, he glanced at Sletran and Erybet. They'd stopped several feet ahead of him because Dresk had halted. The kestarsh was making distressed sounds, his long neck curved tightly so he could gaze at his rider.

"Hey. What's up? You look as if you're on the verge of passing out." Sletran trotted to his side and peered in his face. "Shit. I shouldn't have insisted you come. You shouldn't be doing this."

"I…I…" He heaved for air, his gasps bellowing.

"You haven't been up here in all these years, have you?" The Nobek gazed at him in wonder. "Not even once on this mountain. Of course it's too much, especially in an emergency of this nature."

"I…it's…" his gaze strayed to the Pinnacle.

Dresk shifted, pushing between the mares so Sletran and Erybet bracketed him. So they could catch him if he fell.

"You aren't going on," Sletran said, his tone firm. "Turn around, Conyod. Go to the ranch."

"Go home, Conyod." Erybet's touch was gentle on his shoulder. "There's plenty of assistance you can give there."

"But people need rescue. Dresk is the best at this." Conyod's numb lips finally formed a coherent sentence.

"It's all right," Sletran assured him. "Someone else can ride Dresk to search Evar. There were a few people left behind because there weren't enough kestarsh to ride."

Shame enveloped Conyod. It had been years since Hoslek had disappeared. Yes, there were those who got lost in the mountains, but hundreds climbed those peaks, including Evar, every year without mishap. He and Hoslek had explored beyond the Pinnacle themselves as small children and had come home safe and sound on dozens of occasions.

Why was he so panic stricken to climb Evar? Why did he feel like a child lost in terror?

"No one will think less of you going home," Sletran said firmly. "I certainly won't after what you lost here. There's no reason to be embarrassed."

"Me neither," Erybet reassured him, his smile as gently as his stroking fingers. "It's fine, Conyod. Go to the ranch and be careful as you do so. We'll see you later, okay?"

Conyod's pulse slowed. He couldn't deny the relief he didn't have to go up the mountain despite the humiliation of having fallen apart.

He was awash in shame, however. He, a psychologist, couldn't fight the phobia keeping him from facing Mount Evar. He hated that Sletran and Erybet were chancing the malefic peak without him, but to dare it was beyond him no matter how he feared for their lives.

His voice was rough, and he couldn't look either of his lovers in the eye. "You be careful. No heroics. Promise me you'll come down in one piece."

"We will. I promise." Sletran leaned to press a kiss to Conyod's forehead.

Erybet did as well. They rode off, leaving him behind.

As Hoslek had.

He watched them until they disappeared beyond the jagged outcroppings their upward trail hid beyond. His love for them and the terror the mountain would take them too shouted for him to join them. Wouldn't it be better to die beside them rather than go on alone?

The words to urge Dresk to follow them wouldn't come. He sat unmoving, hating the fear holding him prisoner from doing what he should.

"This goddamned mountain," he groaned. Dresk rumbled and tossed his head as if to agree.

Conyod glanced toward the distant ranch, just visible from his perch. The vague shape of a shuttle sped in its direction, flying fast. It was forced to circle in a wide arc above where the other shuttles were parked near the corral in order to slow enough to land. He guessed it must be family members of those who'd crashed on Evar. Perhaps a parent clan, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. Lafec would confront her own desperation from years ago on their faces. She'd dread having to watch them share the agony of loss that had darkened her years for so long.

He heard her despairing scream so clearly, he started. How could he detect it so far from where she was?

It's a memory.One that had dimmed and fallen apart. A long-ago memory, mostly lost but gaining in clarity and knitting itself together as he sat there. His heart galloped, as if the sound had carried across the miles as well as the last eighteen years.

* * * *

Conyod, age 7

"Ges is back, Mother!" Conyod shouted before running from the corral where he'd been waiting hopefully.

Sema on his kestarsh had come into view, and Lafec gasped. He led Ges by her bridle very slowly.

Hoslek wasn't on her. Conyod peered for a sign of his brother riding behind Sema, chastised and shamed for his misbehavior, which had led to every able-bodied soul who could search to do so.

Why wasn't the rest of the rescue party returning alongside them?

Lafec raced past Conyod, flying in a blur to her clanmate and presumably her son. She was steps from them when she suddenly screamed. The sound was awful, like nothing Conyod had ever heard coming from a person's throat. It went on and on, drenching the grassland beyond the ranch in grief and horror. Conyod's steps slowed as terror grabbed him at the dreadful cry, but he didn't stop. He'd wish often in the coming sweat-drenched nights he had.

Lafec dropped to her knees, still screaming. Sema leapt from his mount and raced to her to gather her in his arms. Though Conyod was several yards from them, he heard his Imdiko father say, "He might have gotten away. We've found no sign of him yet. He might have escaped, my love. Don't give up hope."

Though he'd left his mount and Ges behind, the kestarsh edged close to the pair. Ges' head was down and every step seemed arduous, unsteady. Her flanks swung oddly, so she swayed to the side. She stumbled and nearly fell.

Conyod saw the jagged marks marring her dust-brown coat. Her flesh was open and bloody against her muted hue, livid scarlet slashes revealing raw meat within. They were the sort of gashes he'd been shown on the few trees of the area and rocks. He recalled the warnings given by his fathers and mother since he'd learned to ride: "If you see these, a zibger is in the territory. Turn and come home immediately."

He halted in his tracks, staring at Ges' hideous injuries. An unbidden question fell from suddenly numb lips. "Did it get Hoslek?"

Fortunately, his voice failed before he could ask the other question screaming in his skull. Did it eat him?

Lafec uttered a bizarre sound, a cross between a shriek and a groan. She shoved Sema away and half-crawled, half-staggered to Conyod. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "You must never go up Mount Evar! You must never climb that mountain! Never leave my sight, Conyod! Never! Never!"

She kept screeching "never" as Sema struggled to pry her grip from the bawling child, who fought to tear free. When at last he and his father did manage to rip him from her grasp, Conyod ran to the house to hide. He ran to escape the sight of Ges lying on her side, dying of the horrific injuries.

More than anything, he ran to escape the fearsome creature his mother had transformed into.

* * * *

Conyod, age 25

He shivered and woke from the memory he'd mostly forgotten. For the past years, he'd easily recalled Sema leading the mortally injured Ges home. The vision of his mother collapsing on the ground had been a snapshot recorded in his mind, alongside that of his other fathers returning later without Hoslek. He'd remembered them pointing to the Pinnacle where they'd found the kestarsh's blood. But until this moment, he hadn't remembered Ges' exact injuries or his mother shaking him and screaming in his face during a grief-stricken fit of madness.

Which had sent him into panic whenever he'd dared to approach Mount Evar and the Pinnacle? Had it been the knowledge Hoslek had died there or the suppressed memory of his anguished mother, her beloved face transformed to a monstrous mask during the greatest horror of Conyod's young life?

He shivered again and realized the temperature was dropping. An unseasonable cold spell had been forecast, which had made the search for the crash survivors all the more imperative.

I should be looking too.Conyod gazed at the trail Sletran and Erybet had taken. His pulse quickened at the idea of following them…and Lafec filled his vision once more, rabid in her agony. His chest tightened in fear.

I can't go up the mountain. I shouldn't live trapped forever by her consuming grief either. I've never laid Hoslek to rest in my heart, and it's wrong. He deserves better than my regret and dread, which is what he's come to represent to me.

Hoslek's was the face of Conyod's pain instead of a brother he'd loved more than anyone else. It was a terrible memorial.

He turned from the trail leading up, facing the hated Pinnacle on the hated mountain instead of the way home. His chest refused to loosen, and his heart boomed.

"I think I have to do this," he told Dresk, who'd patiently waited as the minutes had passed. "I'm scared as shit though. I'm twenty-five-years old, and I'm shaking like a kid." He was nearly crying. Tears blurred his vision at the thought of going where his brother had likely spent his final seconds of life.

You must never climb that mountain!

The analytical part of his mind answered the hysterical shriek. If I don't go, I'll never regain the real Hoslek. Instead of the brother I adored, he'll remain a symbol of what went wrong in my life.

He sucked in a pained breath, verging on panic again. His voice came out in a sob. "Dresk, I need you to take me there. No matter how bad I freak out, I must see it for myself. You have to help me past this, or I'll carry it around forever. You do the walking, and I'll concentrate on not falling off. Deal?"

Dresk gazed at him over his shoulder. His expression was calm, as if to say I have you.

"All right. Straight ahead, to that spike of rock and behind it."

Conyod buried his fingers in the rough curls of fur on Dresk's neck as the kestarsh began picking his way off the trail, toward the Pinnacle. The Imdiko averted his gaze from the jutting target, training his eyes on the back of his friend's head. He glanced up on occasion to verify Dresk was going in the right direction. Kestarsh were smart, and Dresk was among the most intelligent of the animals Conyod had trained, but they didn't understand everything people asked of them.

Nonetheless, Dresk and Conyod had always been a well-paired mount and rider, their bond almost intuitive since Conyod had raised the beast from infancy. Dresk had witnessed his despair when it came to their destination. The Imdiko was certain he knew what was being asked of him.

For his part, Conyod concentrated on keeping the worst of the panic at bay. He fought to breathe regularly and to loosen his grip on Dresk when he saw his knuckles whitening. Dresk made no complaint. The kestarsh concentrated on carefully tested his footing as he climbed rises and hollows, kicking loose rocks from his path so he wouldn't tread on unsteady ground.

There'll be nothing to see. It'll be just another place, albeit the location where an unspeakable tragedy occurred. It isn't cursed. There isn't a vengeful ghost or death waiting for me.

Conyod rode where Dresk bore him, his head bowed forward so his long hair hid his peripheral vision. He ignored the urge to mark the boulders and crags they rode past. About halfway to their goal, he stopped checking Dresk's progress. The kestarsh continued to march to where Conyod had asked him to go, so he simply rode, held on and kept a steady mantra of encouragement chanting in his brain. Fear draped him and added to the desperate need to flee to the ranch, but he didn't tell Dresk to stop.

I have to do this. Once and for all, I have to see where it ended.

He became so focused on holding panic at bay, he was surprised when Dresk stopped and rumbled. Conyod lifted his eyes.

The pinnacle of stone marking the dread spot reared over him on his left. He was there. He was at the last known place Hoslek was believed to have been alive.

He sat atop Dresk and took a slow look at his environment. Grim gray rock, tufted here and there by coarse grasses, surrounded him. A large boulder squatted on his right…perhaps the stone where Ges' blood had been splattered. If so, there was none to view now. The hated Pinnacle stood high like a sentinel, casting its needle shadow on the ground.

It would have been a prime spot for a zibger to wait in ambush for a kestarsh and small boy. Hoslek might have been on top of the fierce feline predator before he'd known he'd ridden into danger. It could have been finished before he'd had any idea of what was happening…a quick glimpse of the shaggy striped coat of his attacker, then…nothing else.

There was no sign of a threat. No marks of a life-or-death struggle more than a decade and a half old. The air was still, the hush profound.

Conyod slid from Dresk's back. He walked the area, taking in the ancient notches of wear on the stones around him. He touched the pinnacle, which had served as his brother's despised memorial for him. For the first time, it wasn't hateful. It felt hallowed, imbued by a sacred sadness.

He went to the boulder and sat on it, facing the edifice. "Here I am, Hoslek. I finally made it to you."

Quiet answered him, broken only by Dresk's strong teeth snapping the tough grasses. The kestarsh was apparently satisfied Conyod was okay, and he grazed unconcerned.

"I'm sorry we argued the last time I saw you. I'm sorry I was such a brat. I looked up to you…my big brother. I was jealous, yes, because you were older and could do so much I couldn't. But I loved you. We all did, so much so, we never truly recovered when you were lost. Which isn't your fault. I hope you know that. None of it was your fault."

He drew a deep breath and continued. "I also hope you knew while you were alive how important you were to us. Especially to me. Not an event goes by when I don't wish you were there to share it. When I don't wish I could have done something to save you, to have kept you from riding off that day."

It grew colder, and the pinnacle's shadow shortened as the day marched on. Conyod hardly noticed as he talked and talked, sharing his heart at long last with the memory of the boy who'd been a ghost after all…a ghost he'd kept close for eighteen years, unable to let either of them rest until now.

When the words and the tears finally dried, Conyod glanced around his surroundings. Dresk stood dozing a few feet away, head sunk low, his magnificent black coat gleaming in the sun.

It was quiet. Peaceful. The stillness was a balm to Conyod's soul.

Dresk started. He woke and looked in the direction they'd taken to come to the place. A second later, Conyod heard what had alerted him: the sound of light footsteps. Conyod jumped off the rock and shot to Dresk's side, pulling his com from his belt and switching it on to the frequency the rescuers were using. Chatter told him they were still searching for the downed shuttle.

Now they might have to recover me too.A vision of a zibger springing from around the needle rock filled his mind, along with his mother's maddened scream of never go up Mount Evar!