something wrong?” Kari was looking at her oddly. Jena forced a smile, then reached for her water and took a long, slow swig, fighting to keep her hands from trembling.
She stood up. They had rested long enough. They had been in the mountain long enough.
Make the harvest. Find the light.
They were the Mothers’ words but today her reasons were her own.
“Get your gear. We’re going.”
Kari headed towards the opening in the rock.
“Not that way.”
“But there’s no other–”
“Yes, there is.” Jena let the fading light from her lamp spill into the space overhead. There was a current of air there, the faintest waft of a familiar smell.
Signs, if you knew how to read them.
“Up there?”
“It will be quicker.” Jena began to uncoil the rope.
Experience told her that before long the shaft would meet a wide fissure, an almost tunnel-like space sloping east-west. There were a few such passages in this part of the mountain, their walls smooth and accommodating, as if they had been hollowed out by the flow of rainfall or melting snow. If she was right, to go this way would save them hundreds of feet of slow, painstaking crawling.
She struck a fresh chip of mica and snapped it into her headlamp. After slipping the spent chip into a nearby crack, she reached through the opening, feeling for handholds. The sides of the shaft were jagged and rough, rocks jutting every which way. It was almost like the mountain was giving them a ladder.
The others moved to the centre of the cavern and roped in, falling into line behind her without a word.
It was the way, and so they took it.
THIRTEEN
Jena pulled herself into the shaft.
Hand over hand now, toe over toe. Below, the rope stretched taut then slackened by turns as each girl followed.
As the space angled to the left, it narrowed briefly; it took Jena a minute to negotiate the bend, easing herself around the twisting contours of the rock. She paused just above and waited.
Asha grunted as she manoeuvred herself through; it was some time before she emerged, rubbing a fresh graze on one elbow. She gave Jena a rueful look before perching alongside her on the opposite face of the shaft.
And now the others –
three
…
four
… Min passed through easily, Jena noted with satisfaction. Renae and Calla followed soon after and there was only Kari to come.
Jena reached for the next handhold. Below, there was a pause, the sound of muffled voices, and then the rope found its rhythm once more.
Now it was just upwards. Upwards and out. Their progress was steady but laborious and there were times when she came to a stop, waiting for the rope to slacken behind her so they could move on. She checked the impatience that rose in her at such times. It came harder to some; that was all. What mattered was that they got through.
Half an hour passed – perhaps more. They were close now; Jena could sense it. There was no smell or shift in the air this time, only the swinging of some internal compass. The shaft had risen far enough that they must be almost level with the wider passage. Just ahead, the way seemed to be opening out, spreading to make room.
It had been a tight climb but this part at least would be easy. There was a bend here, but it too seemed wide, angling out like an elbow. And once they were clear of the shaft there would be plenty of space around them. They could rest and stretch awhile, then push on. In a few short hours they would be home.
But as Jena hauled herself around the bend, her eyes widened. It was a cruel trick. For the rock to open out like that only to constrict even further than before, to close its throat upon them.
She had been right – the shaft came to an end here; just ahead she could see the point where it met one of the larger passages. But the way through was so narrow. A head’s width? A hip’s?
Jena glanced behind her –
beneath
her – to where the other girls waited. Could they descend from here, return the way they had come? Even
She stood up. They had rested long enough. They had been in the mountain long enough.
Make the harvest. Find the light.
They were the Mothers’ words but today her reasons were her own.
“Get your gear. We’re going.”
Kari headed towards the opening in the rock.
“Not that way.”
“But there’s no other–”
“Yes, there is.” Jena let the fading light from her lamp spill into the space overhead. There was a current of air there, the faintest waft of a familiar smell.
Signs, if you knew how to read them.
“Up there?”
“It will be quicker.” Jena began to uncoil the rope.
Experience told her that before long the shaft would meet a wide fissure, an almost tunnel-like space sloping east-west. There were a few such passages in this part of the mountain, their walls smooth and accommodating, as if they had been hollowed out by the flow of rainfall or melting snow. If she was right, to go this way would save them hundreds of feet of slow, painstaking crawling.
She struck a fresh chip of mica and snapped it into her headlamp. After slipping the spent chip into a nearby crack, she reached through the opening, feeling for handholds. The sides of the shaft were jagged and rough, rocks jutting every which way. It was almost like the mountain was giving them a ladder.
The others moved to the centre of the cavern and roped in, falling into line behind her without a word.
It was the way, and so they took it.
THIRTEEN
Jena pulled herself into the shaft.
Hand over hand now, toe over toe. Below, the rope stretched taut then slackened by turns as each girl followed.
As the space angled to the left, it narrowed briefly; it took Jena a minute to negotiate the bend, easing herself around the twisting contours of the rock. She paused just above and waited.
Asha grunted as she manoeuvred herself through; it was some time before she emerged, rubbing a fresh graze on one elbow. She gave Jena a rueful look before perching alongside her on the opposite face of the shaft.
And now the others –
three
…
four
… Min passed through easily, Jena noted with satisfaction. Renae and Calla followed soon after and there was only Kari to come.
Jena reached for the next handhold. Below, there was a pause, the sound of muffled voices, and then the rope found its rhythm once more.
Now it was just upwards. Upwards and out. Their progress was steady but laborious and there were times when she came to a stop, waiting for the rope to slacken behind her so they could move on. She checked the impatience that rose in her at such times. It came harder to some; that was all. What mattered was that they got through.
Half an hour passed – perhaps more. They were close now; Jena could sense it. There was no smell or shift in the air this time, only the swinging of some internal compass. The shaft had risen far enough that they must be almost level with the wider passage. Just ahead, the way seemed to be opening out, spreading to make room.
It had been a tight climb but this part at least would be easy. There was a bend here, but it too seemed wide, angling out like an elbow. And once they were clear of the shaft there would be plenty of space around them. They could rest and stretch awhile, then push on. In a few short hours they would be home.
But as Jena hauled herself around the bend, her eyes widened. It was a cruel trick. For the rock to open out like that only to constrict even further than before, to close its throat upon them.
She had been right – the shaft came to an end here; just ahead she could see the point where it met one of the larger passages. But the way through was so narrow. A head’s width? A hip’s?
Jena glanced behind her –
beneath
her – to where the other girls waited. Could they descend from here, return the way they had come? Even
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