The voice was familiar, but Nenn didn’t have the time to find out who’d spoken.He had to harvest the fungi before night descended.
“Take care of him, Elder Qon.I will find a fresh cluster of russmar.”
“That is madness, young Nenn.The suns will set within an hour.It will take you that long to reach the crevice.”Elder Qon pointed to Tugo.“We might not even need it.”
Nenn glanced at Tugo whose face was pale, his eyes squeezed shut.White lines formed around his mouth where he pinched his lips.A study of his injury told its own story.
“I go,” Nenn said.
The first five steps locked his knees, then he pushed on, hobbling to the vast cavern below the lava pool.Two warriors were on guard, their gazes vigilant.Nenn didn’t pause to identify them, not having the time to peer through their iron helmets.Sheets of stone lined the side, ready for export.He slipped in through the broad archway.Along the winding ramp, he sprinted, desperate to reach his home two levels below Tugo’s, to not waste a second.
He burst inside, startling a yelp from his father asleep on his pallet.
“What is it?”he asked, sitting up.For once, his red eyes weren’t glazed over.
“I need…russmar.Tugo could lose a—” Nenn swallowed, yanking a coiled rope off a hook and looping it over his shoulder.
“You know where to go.”Father stumbled toward Nenn only to grab the empty pouch that sat beside the water barrel and shove it into Nenn’s hand.“Be prepared for anything,” he rasped before wrapping his arms around Nenn, his strength gone.
Nenn gathered his father close, wishing he could pour his life force into him and grant him a few more years.He ushered him to his bed and settled him.“You taught me well,” he said, offering a a weak smile.“Rest.I will not be long.”
He stepped back and waited a few precious moments for his father to drift off.After tucking a blanket over his sleeping form, Nenn sprinted out of his home, up the ramp, and into the suns’ fading light, veering right toward the rarely used paths up to the crevices.
Certain death lay ahead going that way.Young males used to believe mapping the widths and depths would garner them a nomination.After so many lives lost, the elders had forbidden to attempt it.He marched on, the rippling volcanic rock rolling out before him.Qon was right to point out the suns setting, but Nenn knew the way, having gone with his father many times.
When the path disappeared, he carried on, aiming for a boulder that looked like a fossilized tree with its top half missing.Ahead, dark, jagged scars came into view, scouring the mountain’s side.The one he needed was hidden in the valley of a ripple, wide enough for a male to slip through.A breeze cooled the sweat on his temple.He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the constant throb of abused muscles.None of his discomfort mattered, not when time did.
He paused beside a row of boulders and specifically near the one that looked like a distorted nipple, narrowing at the top.Tying a knot on the rope gave him a moment to focus his breathing, to gather his thoughts.
“Do not enter the mouth when worry is on your mind,” his father had warned.
Nenn hooked the rope on the nipple, then wrapped it around his wrist before peering into the darkness.Far into the distance, a glimmer of orange implied magma awaited him should he fall.He couldn’t let that thought control his actions.With a shake of his head, he fitted the pouch across his chest, the opening in the front for easy access.He turned, his back to the gap, then with his heels on the edge, he released the rope and repelled down.
The rope skidded through his grip, sending him plummeting.With a cry, he tightened his hand.Fire blazed along the skin of his palms.He jerked to a halt, the rope whiplashing then bouncing him until it stilled.A gust of heat flicked his hair back and made his eyes water.The stench of sulfur hung thick in the air.
Below his dangling feet gaped the Habqus Abyss.
He set his heels flat on the rock wall and scanned the area, searching for a glimmer of purple.Osnir must have abandoned him because he spotted nothing.With a grunt, he twisted to peer below, hoping something would guide him.To the far left, where a dribble of lava leaked down the rock, he caught the palest glow of lilac.He could be wrong, but he had to try.Already the sky above had darkened.Soon, only the magma below would light his way.
He dropped, caught himself, and sparked a hiss at the sting of rope against chaffed skin.The farther he sank, the brighter the bioluminescence, and the confirmation flooded his chest with warmth.There was a chance he could reach it in time.
A nudge on the rope not his doing had him glance up.White eyes peered at him.A banaari.
Fear seized his throat.He was alone and unarmed for the most part.Salvation from someone else wasn’t a possibility.
No, do not think about it.Focus on the russmar.His symbiotes spewed warnings: the rope could snap, the banaari would attack the moment he returned to the surface, or the russmar could shrivel up if he wasn’t gentle enough.
He willed them to quieten as he lowered himself, keeping his feet firm.Inch by inch, he descended, the heat from the lava trickle almost too much to bear.With a deep inhale, he swung himself over it, then slipped down until he was at eye level with a crack.Rows of yellow audinna sheltered the delicate purple russmar in full bloom.
He grinned.Perhaps Osnir was with him.
When he reached his hand into the narrow opening, something lunged at him.On instinct, he pushed himself away, slamming his back against the opposite wall.Two eyes peered at him while a gray tongue flicked out from a black body.
He laughed, relief pooling in his belly.Indeed, he was blessed.For this night, he might be able to entice his father to eat with fresh vibuy meat.
Whipping out his knife, he lunged across and thrust out, killing the lizard in an instant.A curse slipped from his lips at the ruined clusters of russmar around it.With a sigh, he skirted to the right and stroked the nearest plant, massaging it like he would a sore thumb.One by one, he worked along the ledge, gathering what russmar he could.When he had to blink to see better, he glanced up and scowled.The suns had set.
He sheathed his knife, grabbed the vibuy, then shoved it into the stuffed pouch.White eyes gleamed at him while he climbed, the wailing rumble of banaari growing louder even as a cool breeze bathed his face.
