Day of Honor - Michael Jan Friedman [3]
It wasn't a small hole, either. It was half the size of the cavern itself, and this cavern was even bigger than the one outside.
The lash of flame died down, but not the blood-red glow. That lingered, meaning the fire hadn't subsided completely. It just wasn't visible from where they sat.
B'Elanna looked at her friend. "You weren't kidding," she said.
"Of course not," Erva told her.
Then she started to move, her shadow looming large and dancing wildly on the cavern wall behind her. It seemed to B'Elanna that her friend was inching forward, trying to get a better view of the chute.
But after a moment, she realized Erva was doing more than that. She was moving to the side as well, where a narrow ledge circumvented the pit and connected with the cavern floor on the other side.
"What are you doing?" B'Elanna asked her.
"I'm going to the other side," the Yrommian explained. "It's lower there, and there's less of a lip. I'll get a better view."
"But it's dangerous," B'Elanna protested.
"Only if the flame dies down before I get there and it becomes dark." Her friend winked at her. "And if I hurry, that won't happen."
Before B'Elanna could stop her, Erva had gotten to her feet and sidled out onto the ledge. Pressing her back into the cavern wall, the Yrommian made her way along the side of the chute.
B'Elanna watched, spellbound. The ruddy light coming up from the hole in the earth made Erva seem
ruddy as well. Her hair gleamed like Klingon bloodwine, her eyes like dying suns.
"What's going on in there?" Dougie called from the next cavern. His voice echoed from one wall of the chute to the other. "I hate not being able to get in to see!"
You might not want to see this, B'Elanna thought. If Erva fell off the ledge, she would die. There was no question about it.
But the Yrommian didn't seem the least bit afraid. If anything, she seemed giddy with her nearness to the fire, all possibility of fear swept away in a tide of delight.
"Come on," said Dougie. "Somebody talk to me."
"Erva's going over to the other side," B'Elanna answered.
"The other side?"
"Of the chute," she added.
Dougie didn't say anything for a moment. "How?" he asked finally.
B'Elanna frowned. "She's walking."
"She can do that?"
"I guess," the girl said, trying to keep the doubt out of her voice.
Erva took a step, then slid. Another step, and slid some more. Little by little, she approached the far side of the cavern. Finally, to B'Elanna's surprise and elation, her friend came within a step or two of her goal.
Suddenly, without warning, the firechute filled with a rush of energy. The flame bounded off the ceiling and folded back on itself like a great and terrible
blossom, turning the cavern a hideous red with its fury. B'Elanna closed her eyes and pressed herself as far back into the stone as she could go.
But the fire found her.
She felt its scaring energy on her face, scorching her skin and superheating the air she drew into her throat, making her cry out with the pain. For a moment, she thought she had been burned beyond recognition, both inside and out.
Then the heat and the light diminished, and B'Elanna opened her eyes and felt her face with a terrible urgency. But to her surprise, her skin was still smooth, still in one piece. The burn she had sustained was no worse than the ones she got from being in the sun too long.
Swallowing, B'Elanna saw that her throat was okay too. Gathering her courage, she gazed across the chute.
She was prepared for the worst-prepared to find that Erva had fallen into the hole, or been burned to ashes by her nearness to the fire. But neither of those things had happened.
The Yrommian was on the other side of the chute, huddled against the cavern wall. She had wrapped her arms about herself and was trembling like a naiga spore in a strong wind, moaning in a kind of singsong rhythm.
But as far as B'Elanna could tell, her friend was all right. She hadn't been burned any worse than B'Elanna herself.
She licked her lips. "Erva?"
B'Elanna's voice echoed a bit. But it was still