Ammonite Stars (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #4-5 (50 page)

They finally decided that they would descend in two groups: Six and Diva would be the first, and Bennel and Tallen would bring up the rear.

The safest way to descend seemed to be for one of the two to go down four or five steps with a rope around them, while the other wrapped his end of the rope right around one of the steps, so as to have an anchorage if the leader fell. Then the leader would wind his or her part of the rope around their own step while the second person moved to join the first and then progressed four or five steps beyond that position. Although this was not a completely secure method, it would at least give them half a chance of survival.

They discussed the system with the other two, and then they all began to hang as many provisions as possible around their waists. They had no idea how far down they would need to go; from here there was no sign of a bottom to the abyss.

They were soon ready to take the first step down the chasm, but they looked back at the canths, uncertain how to leave them. Diva wished that they could communicate more easily with them, like the canth keeper sometimes seemed able to do.

“At the least we should free them,” she said. “They might need to move away from here, and they won’t unless we have set them free.”

Six sighed. “If we do that, they may wander away, and we might not be able to find them again.”

“I don’t think they will.” Diva reached up to stroke the neck of her canth, which lowered its head and nickered at her. She looked at Six.

Six considered their options, and then nodded. He walked to his own canth, and gently stroked it, just under the mane. “Abrogate,” he said firmly, into its ear, which flickered backwards and then forwards. “Abrogate.”

He could hear Diva saying the same word to her own canth, and waited. On Xiantha, this would be the sign for them to make their own way as fast as they could to the canth farm. Here, he had no idea what the word would mean. But Diva was right, the canths at least deserved the autonomy they wouldn’t have had otherwise.

They watched their canths for a few moments, but the two animals showed no signs of moving; they appeared content to be relaxing under the shelter of the cliff overhang. Finally, the two
Valhais
moved back to the edge of the abyss.

Six licked his lips as he peered once again over the brink of the drop down, wondering if he were completely mad. Then he nodded to Diva, who immediately stepped out onto the first stone step which jutted out over the sheer fall. All three men held onto her rope, using a nearby boulder as safety, until she had progressed five steps and wound her part of the rope around the flagstone.

“It’s not so bad.” Her voice drifted back to them with a strange ringing tone. “Some of the steps are narrower where they slot into the wall, and that makes them a good choice for an anchor.”

Six nodded to Bennel and Tallen, took the curls of rope in his hand, and, muttering something about Lumina, stepped out over the chasm.

The rock was horribly slippery, and much of it was covered with some sort of wet green slime which made it lethal. He found he had to balance his weight with great care so as not to fall. His heart lurched right into his throat as he made his way carefully down towards Diva, who was watching his progress with something akin to worry in her eyes.

As he negotiated his way past her, on the fifth step, their arms touched, and he felt a surprising jolt of electric awareness pass all the way through him. He turned towards Diva for a moment, and thought he saw the remains of a similar feeling in her eyes, then he was past her, and moving on downwards.

The very walls of the abyss were streaming with water, but were warm to the touch, which felt very strange. The water must have been only a few degrees below Diva’s normal blood temperature. It was hotter than Six’s, but the air temperature was much lower. It must be the tidal heating, warming up everything under the surface of the planet, thought Six, as he held his chilled fingers against the rocky surface, to take advantage of the warmth emanating from it.

Unfortunately the same warm water had encouraged the growth of the lichens which covered the steps, and they had blossomed in the unlikely heat, managing to withstand all the volcanic activity, making every footfall even more perilous for them.

Six fastened the rope around his fourth step, which was more appropriately shaped than the fifth, and waited for Diva to pass. He could see over to the other side of the chasm, and the steps continued there. He wasn’t sure if they were the very same steps, which actually doubled right around the curved surface, or whether this was another staircase, hewn by some long-gone civilization, ages before.

Diva slipped past him, with a quick touch of her hand on his arm, and continued down the stepping stones around the wall. He saw her slip, falter, and nearly fall. She recovered quickly, but his heart did not. It pumped useless adrenaline into his system for long minutes after she had righted herself, and made his hands tremble, much to his disgust.

When it was again his own turn, he pushed past Diva quickly. He didn’t want her to see how her near fall had disturbed him. He maintained his breathing steady, and ventured on. It was lighter now. At first he thought that his eyes must be getting used to the dark, and then he realized that the instellite walls were glittering more; they were casting a supernatural light around the rock face, which illuminated their path in ghostly rays. The deeper they went, the more the instellite lit their progress. It was uncanny.

AFTER TWO HOURS they decided to regroup, and rest. They sat down, one on each adjacent stone step, letting their feet hang over the edge. There was still no sign of the bottom of the deep crevice, and they knew that meant hours more struggle to get down.

“I hope there really is something down here after all this,” said Bennel rather despondently. He was not enjoying the descent in the least little bit.

“Of course there is.” Tallen’s lip curled as he regarded his rope partner. “What would be the point of putting all these steps in the rock if they didn’t lead anywhere? I think too much contact with the meritocrats has weakened your brain.”

Bennel held up a respectful hand to ask Diva not to retort to that. “Witling,” he began, “you have not been in this world long—”

Diva interjected a whisper suggesting that he wouldn’t remain in it long, either, but was prudently ignored by Bennel.

“—so you may not realize that things change. While I agree that when this was built it undoubtedly led somewhere, there is no evidence so far to tell us that the civilization existent in ancient times has survived until now. Nor do we know if the volcanic action of the planet has interfered in the chasm. We could find our way blocked at any moment.”

Tallen had swung his feet over and got up. He was now standing on his stone slab and looking very angry. “Witling? Who are you calling witling?” He slipped, nearly fell, and then recovered his balance. “I have more wits than all of you put together!”

Bennel’s eyebrows escalated so high they almost reached the canths, now left far above. “You are a sapling,” he said, and turned away.

Tallen was nearly jumping up and down on his slab with rage. “Take that back! Take it back! The Namuri permit nobody to insult them.” The stone flag began to quiver.

Six, who was on the neighbouring step of rock, reached back to touch Tallen’s ankles. “Sit down!” he told him. “There is enough danger down here, without you making it worse. You will fall if you keep that up.”

“I suppose you think you are better than me!” snapped Tallen.

Six shook his head. “No. But I’m not so hot-headed.” Then he caught the glint of Diva’s teeth out of the corner of his eye. “—Though I might have been when I was young, I suppose.”

“Were you?” Tallen was entertained. “That must have been a long time ago.”

Diva could be heard to draw in a sharp breath.

Six stared at him, thunderstruck, but since Diva was doubled up by then, and even Bennel was smiling, he decided to leave things as they were. For Tallen was right – the journey to Valhai as a donor apprentice was so far away it seemed shrouded in the mists of time. He felt suddenly sad for the years lost, and his mind went automatically to his sisters.

He tried not to think of them too much these days. He still felt betrayed when he remembered how they had chosen the Elders, and had actively tried to stop the no-names from winning the war on Kwaide. But he could remember how their lives together had been before he was forcibly sent to Valhai, when his sisters had been his loyal companions in the struggle for survival in the frozen wastelands of northern Kwaide. A picture of both of them dancing with pleasure at the first signs of spring came to him. He closed his eyes, and really did feel old. How could you feel old at 21?

Tallen had sat down again, aware that he had scored his point.

THEY RESTED FOR another few minutes, and then scrambled to their feet, to continue the journey down and down and down into the abyss. They were getting tired now, and that made it even harder to concentrate, to be as sure-footed as they could.

All went well until they were at last able to discern the end of the chasm. Spirits rose exponentially, and it was Bennel who made the first mistake. He allowed his eyes to hover fractionally too long on the gushing waters which were now revealed below them, hesitated with the foot he was about to place on top of the next flag, slipped, lost his balance, and plunged down, down towards the water, which was still hundreds of metres below them.

The rope snapped tight, and Tallen gave a startled yelp as he realized what was happening. He tightened his hold on the end of the rope, which was wrapped around the step, twisting it around and around his hands as he waited for the shock of the thin material as it took the weight of the Coriolan bodyguard.

There was an audible creak of stress as the rope tautened, and for a moment they all thought that it might break. Then it halted Bennel in his mad descent, and left him swinging violently backwards and forwards under the step where Tallen was standing.

Six and Diva made their way back to Tallen, as fast as they safely could. Six untied an extra rope he had been carrying and lowered it down to Bennel, whose face was green.

Bennel grabbed at the rope, and Six and Diva retreated some steps further down, until the rope was tight. Then they pulled together, slowly inching Bennel towards the step they had looped it over.

By this time all three of those who hadn’t fallen were straining at the effort. Tallen was still supporting the full weight of the fallen man, although the loop around the stone step attenuated a lot of the dead weight. Six and Diva were really stretched to pull that dead weight sideways, and their hands were quickly rubbed raw at the effort.

At last Bennel was close to one of the steps. He managed to grab a handhold on the rock face itself, and with an immense effort, hauled himself on top of the slab, where he lay sprawled, head down, unable even to pull himself upright.

The others sank down where they were, too. Six made sure Diva was safe, and then allowed himself to rest his head against the warm rock face behind him. He gasped in and out unevenly as he struggled to get his breath back.

Tallen was staring down at his own hands, which were raw and bleeding where the rope had burnt him. He seemed shocked, but he was pleased that he had succeeded in breaking the fall. There had been several moments there where he thought that he wouldn’t. He settled gently down, shaking slightly and still trying to catch his breath.

Finally, Bennel turned to the Namuri. “You saved my life, sapling.”

Tallen glared. “Then stop calling me sapling.”

Bennel nodded, and grinned. “You were as strong and supple as a thousand-year-old temaris tree. I will never call you sapling again.”

Tallen seemed pleased, and preened. “A thousand-year-old temaris tree, eh?”

Then Bennel turned to Six and Diva and bowed. “I will pray to Sacras that I may be allowed to live long enough to repay the great debt I now owe you.”

Six shook his head. “No problem, Bennel. You don’t owe us anything. Glad you managed to pull yourself up.”

Both Bennel and Tallen found his glib dismissal of the event rather insulting, but they held their tongues, contenting themselves with a conspiratorial glance of understanding.

“Now,” said Six. “We need to pick ourselves up, and get down to the bottom of this thing, before we stiffen up altogether and have to stay here forever.”