I watch as the three hunters unload the sled, casually tossing bundle after bundle of furs down to the bottom of the gorge. They fling things over with abandon, and then Bek grabs the rope and climbs down after. Harrec helps Pashov dismantle the sled, and they toss down the long bones, which will be re-used for other things, because the sa-khui waste nothing. Harrec then disappears over the ledge, and then it’s just me and Pashov and Pacy up here.
Pashov turns to me. “You go first. I do not like the thought of you up here alone while I am down below.” He holds his arms out for the baby. “Let us put my son in his carrier on my back, and I will climb down after you.”
I nod, trying to hold back my nervousness, even though the urge to throw up is growing stronger by the moment. I don’t like this.I don’t like the thought of Pacy going down the gorge, either, but I know that’s just my anxiety speaking. He’s going to be perfectly safe on Pashov’s back because Pashov won’t let anything happen to him. I tuck Pacy into the carrier and triple-check the straps. The baby’s in a good mood, waving his little fists in the air and babbling happily to himself. I wish I could be so carefree. I check the straps one more time, and realize I’m stalling.
There’s nothing I can do now, except go down the rope. I suck in a deep breath.
Pashov turns to me and cups my cheeks in his warm, warm hands. “You will be fine.” When I give a slow nod, he continues. “Take off your mittens so you can grip the rope tightly. Move as slowly as you need to. Brace your feet on the wall to help you move.”
“Got it,” I breathe.
I move forward to the edge of the cliff and grab the rope. There are knots tied every few feet, so it makes it easier to climb up and down, but my hands are shaking so badly and my palms are so sweaty that I nearly drop the rope.
“Stay-see?—”
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Really. I can do this.”
I grip the rope again, and then peer over the edge. There’s a scatter of bundles down on the snowy ground below, and Harrec and Bek are walking away, burdened with our things. I can’t stop staring at the ground, though. It’s at least twenty or thirty feet down, though my brain gets a little woozy at the sight. Twenty feet might as well be a hundred. It’s also a completely sheer drop. I wiggle one foot closer to the edge and try to figure out how to get my feet braced on the wall, like Pashov said.
My hands slip and my foot does, too. My body skids backward. Suddenly I’m flat on my stomach on the ledge, my legs dangling in midair over the lip of the canyon. A terrified whimper escapes me.
“No!” Pashov cries out. “No, Stay-see. Stop!” His hands grip my upper arms, and he hauls me back over the ledge. “Stop,” he tells me again. “There must be another way.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, trembling. I cling to his neck, burying my face against his chest as he holds me tight. “I’m trying.”
“I know.” He strokes my hair. “I know. Let me think.”
I cling to him. “I wish I wasn’t so afraid of heights.”
“You are who you are. Make no apologies for it.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I would change nothing about you.”
He always knows what to say to make me feel better. I burrow against him, clinging to his big strong body. He might not want to change anything, but I do wish I wasn’t such a coward.
“Hold still,” he tells me after a moment, and I feel his hands go around my waist. He pulls at the wide leather belt I wear and tugs it off. Surviving on the ice planet (for humans, anyhow) is all about layers, and I tend to wear several furs and then belt them tightly around my waist, going over it twice. That way the furs catch no wind and don’t let a cold breeze in.
He takes my belt and ties my waist to his, cinching the length of leather through the bone circle so we are roped together. Pashov takes my hand and puts it on his shoulder. “Arms around my neck and hold me tightly.”
“What are we doing?—”
“You are holding on to me,” he says. “And I am going to get us both down.”
But he’s already got Pacy. I’m going to be a dead weight on his front, and that’s going to make it hard for him to climb. “Pashov, I don’t know?—”
“I do. Hold on to me,” he says, and hitches me up a few feet off the ground, so now my feet are dangling.
I give a little whimper of fear and cling to his neck. He’s not leaving me with much choice.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
“Pashov!” I cry out when I feel his body shift. “I’m scared!”
“Do not open your eyes, then,” he tells me. “I have you.”
“Don’t let me fall!”
“Never. Trust in me, Stay-see.” I feel his big body flex as he moves. Oh god. Is he climbing down already? I fling my legs around his waist and cling to him with all my might. I try to focus on everything but the fact that I can feel his body sway, or that I can feel him grunt with exertion. That I can feel the muscles in his arms straining. Pacy babbles happily to himself, the burbling nonsense syllables sounding loud and uneven as they echo off the canyon walls.
Then…Pashov’s body thumps hard, and I feel the impact of it move through my body as well. I swallow a nervous little scream.
