Whiteout II: 9 (The Pact)

9. The Pact

     That night we were kept up by the chanting of incantations and red lights of fire as the site for the pact was created. We both took these matters very seriously, and sealing them in a matter of black magic was the only way to ensure true fealty. There aren’t many spells or rituals that I am comfortable using, but the one for a pact is fairly simple. It involves the drawing of a pentagram, lighting three candles made from human essence (yes I had them, no they were not all that hard to obtain), and two willing parties with the knowledge to recite ancient scriptures.

     The circle and pentagram were to be both drawn with fresh charcoal, which luckily we had from our dying fire. Manchester’s men just stood off to the side and watched with displeasure. Interesting that men who have just encountered a yeti are so keen on ignoring the true nature of things. Black magic is one of the easier concepts to accept. Most of us have seen something that we can’t explain, it’s easy enough to transfer that feeling to black magic. Where people usually run into trouble is facing a living, breathing monster in the flesh, and acknowledging its existence. I’ve seen a few nosebleeds from that one.

     The next piece of the ritual is spoken in a language that is thought to be dead. For ease of the story I’ll translate it for you. “Come, gather here spirits and bear witness, for on this night a sacred pact is being made. Two men will enter this unholy circle and swear their allegiance before you and all of the others who lie beyond! Look upon us with hungry eyes, for if either breaks this sacred pact I bestow upon thee permission to run forth and return him. I give thee permission to take me to the very gates of hell if it so pleases you.” I looked to Manchester.

     He stepped inside the circle. “I give thee permission to take me to the very gates of hell if it so pleases you. On this night I swear never to harm Nick Ventner until our courses are no longer intertwined. On this mission, and while we both still breathe, I will serve common cause with him and his men. This I vow before the undying eyes of ye spirits, and whatever else might watch from the unknown.”

     Only until the end of the mission eh? I had been hoping for a bit more protection than that, but it was going to have to do. As always we were short on time. “I swear not to harm Harvey Manchester until our courses…” Once we had both made our oaths we moved to opposite sides of the pentagram and knelt at the points. From our pockets we each pulled a knife. His was much larger and far more jagged than mine. Really glad he’s not going to harm me…

     “Let the ritual conclude with the spilling of our blood onto these now hallowed grounds. Take this offering as a tacit agreement between these men and the spirit world. Bind us in our lives and in yours, forevermore, until the conditions are met, at which point you will hold no claim to us.” Manchester and I slit our palms simultaneously and let the blood run into the circle. All of the candles went out in a flash and were followed by a cacophony of moans from the other side.

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“Wait, so you mean to tell me that you performed a black magic rite with The Manchester that bound you together in the spirit world?!” I had never seen such excitement from the man, it was very uncharacteristic.

“I didn’t stumble in my story did I?”

“No, of course not. It’s just all rather unbelievable isn’t it? Black magic, yetis, cults? The whole thing is like something out of a children’s story.”

“You read your children stories about the disembowelment of mountaineering guides? NO wonder they aren’t around to visit much.” I took a swig out of a fresh glass and savored the look of contempt he threw me. “Easy now pal. I’m only joking.”

“But you found a connection to the spirit world?”

“Oh yeah. It’s not that hard. The veil between their world and ours is one of the easiest to break through. There’s no group who want to communicate more with the living than the dead. We’re a sentimental bunch as humans, always leaving behind unfinished business.” I look around at the room ominously, eying the portraits of long-dead persons on the walls. It’s all an act really. In truth Manchester and I shook on the agreement and called it good.

There are many laws that bind people of our kind, and agreements between hunters are of the highest importance. They must be obeyed at all cost, or risk the repercussions of the masters. The handshake was all we needed to put the scare into each other. Besides, there hadn’t been time for a black magic ritual, but it made for a better story. An uneasy feeling grew inside me. The man followed my gaze to the portraits and grew uneasy as well.

“Did any of these men have any unfinished business when they left?” I ask quietly gesturing to the portraits around the room.

“All of those men have been dead for centuries. I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“That’s odd. This one is calling your name. I can feel his presence from the beyond. It’s strong. He’s very aggravated with you.” A bead of sweat drops down his forehead. He’s nervous, but not keen on showing it. “General Lazenby is it? Yes, he’s very angry indeed.” I had seen the name on the portrait as I walked in the door. The whole thing is an illusion to cover up my truly perceptive nature with a more spiritual approach to things. “What have you done to this man?!” I yell at him, conjuring the fiery demeanor of a born-again mother who’s just found out that her son experimented with sex.

“I didn’t do anything I swear!” He’s broken, yelling now. The sweat now runs into his eyes, stinging as it slides. The trap is complete. I relax completely and chuckle at the poor man.

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     “There you go Nick. I will be unable to harm you and you won’t be able to harm me. As we are partners, unwilling or not, we need to think ahead.”

     “Way ahead of you!” I took pride in the word choice. “We’re going to follow that beast straight back to its den! I’ve got the tracker on it. We’ll sleep now, wake up at first light and follow the tracker wherever it goes! Alright, good talk gentlemen. Goodnight now!” I turned my back to walk over to James and Lopsang.

     “Not so fast. We should leave now, follow the tracker as it moves. It likely knows the fastest way back to its hiding place.”

     “No, we should wait until morning when it is safe. Remember what happened to your colleague over there.” I said pointing to the blood stain that now served as a marker of his demise. Better marker than some people get up here.

     “What makes you think it’s any safer in the daylight? Blizzards can form at any time.”

     “Ah, but that’s just it, it doesn’t come during the day!”

     “What makes you think that it’ll continue the trend?”

     “Has so far. I say we stick with it. It’s short, simple, and easy to remember. Night then.” I walked away. Well, as much as I could. The alcove was small and didn’t provide much room for dramatic exits. James and Lopsang were huddled by the tent, trying to keep warm. My blood had been so warm that I had hardly noticed the temperature, but stepping away from the fight brought it crashing back.

     “Well, looks like we’re going to get cozy tonight.” We were down a tent as the other had been wrecked by the yeti as it barreled after Manchester’s worker. “Come on now, everyone in. We can’t afford to lose any sleep tonight. Tomorrow is the big day.” We all crammed into the tent and I popped open a small laptop that had been attached to the tracking beacon I put on the creature. The small screen illuminated with a topographical map of the mountains around us and a dim, green grid overlaying them.

     The computer whirred softly. I waited a few minutes and then it happened. *BEEP* repeating softly. The tracker had worked. At the cost of one life we now had a bead on where the creature was moving and how fast it was getting there. “Lopsang, James, look at this.” We all looked at the screen in amazement as the creature moved further up the mountain, past the Vikram Ice wall and up into the death zone, just below the mountain’s summit. There it stopped moving. I marked it on the screen.

     “That’s where we have to go. Right to the gates of hell to have a knock and find out what’s beyond.” ShangriLa was such a tempting promise that even the death zone seemed worth it. The Death Zone is so named because it is the area that the most climbers perish. It requires oxygen to ascend for most, and marks one of the most difficult climbing stretches on the mountain. “Do we have the gear to get up there?” I asked Lopsang.

     “Yes, but an ascent this late will be dangerous. We will have to camp one night more just above the Vikram Wall, and then make an attempt at it. There is no guarantee of markers up there. Most of the shaman never made it past this area.” He pointed to a long, sloping valley prone to avalanches. “It is possible that one of them did, but I cannot be sure.”

     “Well I guess we’re going to have to gamble then. Let’s get some rest, we’ll have to break the news to Manchester and his team in the morning.” The hard ground made sleep difficult, and the thought of The Death Zone even more. I had never wanted to be a climber. It all seemed to be far too much danger for not nearly enough reward. This place better be worth it, and Manchester better not slow us down. I faded into the inky blackness and fell into one of the more restless sleeps I have known.