Heights of the Depths by Peter David

of the prow.
    Instantly she heard those soft, eerie whispers between the Travelers, and the one closest to her started quickly toward her, noiseless as he moved. But he was not quick enough and suddenly Jepp was straddling the prow. It would have been a simple matter for her to throw herself over the side.
    “It’s your own fault,” she said. “You backed up when I approached you. So you placed yourself too far away to stop me from doing this. Return me whence you took me. Return me to Karsen. Return me or I shall throw myself over the side and drown, for I cannot swim, and whatever greater purpose is connected to your desire for me, it will never be fulfilled. Do you fear that prospect too, I wonder? Shall we find out?”
    For the first time, the Traveler spoke. It was soft, so much so that she could scarcely hear him, especially above the crackling of the sail and the splashing of the water against the ship.
    “Don’t,” he said.
    The simple word froze Jepp where she was. Her hair blew in her face and she brushed it away. “Why not?”
    “You’d be quitting.”
    “I’m not quitting. I want you to take me back.”
    Although she could not see the movement of his head, the hood that covered his head slowly shook back and forth in the negative.
    “So I have no reason,” she said, “not to do this. Not to kill myself.”
    “One reason.”
    “And that is?”
    “Karsen,” said the Traveler, “is not down there.” He spoke with what sounded like weary patience, and perhaps even the slightest   touch of sympathy, which she most certainly would not have   expected.
    The damning thing was that he was right. She knew that what she wanted more than anything was a reunion with Karsen. But Karsen did not wait for her below the waves; only death did. Death was the end of hope, and as long as she was alive, hope remained that she would be reunited with him.
    “You’re not going to turn the ship around, are you.” It was not a question.
    Again the Traveler slowly shook his unseen head within the hood.
    “Aren’t you concerned over what will happen to you if I die and you fail in your mission.”
    “No mission.”
    This caught her off guard. She tilted her head, studying him, wishing that she could see some hint of expression so that she might get at least a glimmer of what was going through his mind. “No mission? You mean…the Overseer didn’t send you to get me?”
    He shook his head.
    “Then why? Why did you capture me?”
    “Have to.”
    “But why?”
    “Cannot tell you.”
    “Is it a secret?” When she saw him shake his head again, she persisted, “Then why?”
    “Do not know.”
    And with that, as if she no longer mattered, he turned and walked away from her. His long, encompassing cloak swept noiselessly around his feet. The unspoken message he was sending her was clear: It was up to her to do what she wanted. If she was resolved to pitch herself over the side and sink to a briny doom, then it was to be her choice and hers alone. He was not going to hover over her and force her to keep living.
    Jepp felt slightly deflated over that, and even a bit embarrassed. She had spoken proudly, defiantly, made a threat that she was fully prepared to carry out. And now she was supposed to…what? Meekly withdraw herself from her precarious perch and go back to staring out at the water? How would the Travelers take her seriously if she backed off from her ultimatum?
    On the other hand, if I go through with it, then they’ll take me seriously but I’ll be dead and so will hardly be in a position to appreciate it.
    With a sigh, she eased herself back onto the deck and stood there, arms folded. The Traveler who had been walking away from her stopped, turned, and looked back at her.
    “I hope you’re happy,” she said.
    “Never,” whispered the Traveler and walked away from her, leaving her alone at the prow.
     
    ii.
    She dreams of a far   off land, and although she has never seen it before, she knows