The Descent

She  quit  singing.  Her  eyes  rode  up  to  his,  and  her  thoughts  were  easy  to  read.  She saw his daze, and it suggested  an opportunity. But  when  she  tried  prying  herself  from the wet  stone, her body refused to cooperate.

'Please speak  more clearly, animal man,' she said politely, in high dialect.

To Ike's  ear,  she  had  expressed  something  like  What?  He  tried  again,  reversing  his question and fumbling for the  right  syntax  and  possessive.  'Where.  You  own.  Mother. To be.'

She  snorted,  and  he  knew  his  attempts  sounded  like  grunting  to  her.  All  the  while she  kept  her  eyes  directed  away  from  his  knife  with  the  black  blade.  That  was  her object of desire, Ike  knew. She wanted to kill him.

This time  he  traced  a  sign  on  the  ground,  then  linked  it  with  another  sign.  'You,'  he said. 'Mother.'

She made  a  gentle  sweeping  motion  with  her  fingers,  and  that  was  his  answer.  One did not speak about the dead. They  became someone – or something – else.  And  since you could never  be sure who or what form that reincarnation might have  taken, it  was most judicious to give the dead no mention. Ike  let it go at that.

Of  course   Kora  was   dead.   And   if   she   was   not,   there   would   probably   be   no recognizing what was left. Yet  here  was  their  legacy.  And  he  needed  her  as  a  pawn  to trade  away  for Ali. That  had  been  his  working  plan.  Suddenly  it  felt  as  though  the  life raft he had crafted from wreckage  had just wrecked  all over  again.

It  was excruciating, the appearance of a daughter he had never  known, changed  into what he had almost been changed into. What was  he  supposed  to  do  now,  rescue  her? And what then? Obviously the hadals had taken  her in and made her one of them.  She had no idea who  he  was  or  what  world  he  came  from.  To  be  honest,  he  had  little  idea himself. What kind of rescue  was that?

He  looked  at  the  girl's  thin,  painted  back.  Since  capturing  her,  he  had  treated  her like chattel.  The  only  thing  good  to  say  was  that  he  had  not  beaten  or  raped  or  killed her. My daughter? He hung his head.

How  could  he  possibly  trade  away  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  even  for  a  woman  he loved?  But  if  he  did  not,  Ali  would  remain  in  their  bondage  forever.  Ike  tried  to  clear his  mind.  The  girl  was  ignorant  of  her  past.  However  harsh,  she  had  a  life  among  the hadals.  To  take  her  out  of  here  would  mean  tearing  her  by  the  roots  from  the  only people  she  knew.  And  to  leave  Ali  meant...  what?  Ali  could  not  possibly  know  he  had survived  the fortress  explosion, much less that he was searching for her. Likewise, she would never  know if he turned around and dragged this child away  from the darkness. Indeed, knowing her, even  if  she  did  know,  Ali  would  approve.  And  where  would  that leave  him? He had become a curse. Everyone  he loved disappeared.

He considered letting  the  girl  go.  But  that  would  only  be  cowardice  on  his  part.  The decision was his to  make.  He  had  to  make  it.  It  was  one  or  the  other,  at  best.  He  was too much of a realist to waste  a moment imagining the whole happy family could  make it out. He was tormented  the rest  of that night.

When the girl awoke, Ike  presented  her with a  meal  of  larvae  and  pallid  tubers,  and loosened her ropes. He knew it would only complicate matters  to restore  her  strength, and that the slightest guilt at having depleted the child was a dangerous moralism. But he could no longer go on starving  his own daughter.

Guessing she would never  tell it to him, he asked her name. She  averted  her  eyes  at the  rudeness.  No  hadal  would  give  such  power  to  a  slave.  Soon  after  he  started  her downward on the trail, though more slowly in consideration of her fatigue.

The  revelation  tortured  him.  After  his  return  to  the  human  side,  Ike  had  vowed  to keep  his  choices  black  and  white.  Stick  to  your  code.  Stray,  and  you  died.  If  you couldn't decide a matter  in three  seconds, it was too complicated.

The  simplest thing by  far, the safest  thing,  would  have  been  to  cut  loose  and  escape while  he  could.  Ike  had  never  been  a  believer  in  predestination.  God  didn't  do  it  to you, you did it to yourself. But the present  situation contradicted him.

The  mystery   of  it  weighed   on  Ike,   and  their   slow  descent   slowed  more.   The heaviness he felt had nothing  to  do  with  their  altitude,  now  eleven  miles  deep.  To  the contrary,  as  the  air  pressure  thickened,  he  was  engorged  with  more  oxygen,  and  the effect was a hardy  lightness of the kind  one  felt  coming  down  off  a  mountain.  But  now the  unwanted  effect  of  so  much  oxygen  in  his  brain  was  more  thoughts  and  more questions.