Day of Honor - Michael Jan Friedman [4]
Erva turned away from the cavern wall and peered at B'Elanna with eyes red from crying. "I'm still here," she said with some surprise.
"For now," B'Elanna told her. "But you've got to get out of there. The next time, the fire might be worse."
It was true. Her parents had said that about firechutes. Just when you thought you had seen one at its worst, it got even fiercer.
Her friend shook her head, squeezing out tears between swollen eyelids. "I can't," she whimpered. "You've got to," B'Elanna insisted.
But it was no use.
B'ELANNA SHOOK HER HEAD. THE YROMMIAN WASN'T making a move to help herself-even if it meant her death. She was just too frightened.
There was only one other possibility, the halfKlingon girl told herself. Only one other way to get her friend Erva out of her predicament-and that was to go all the way over and get her.
She took a look into the chute, where flame after twisting flame was emerging from its depths. There was no time to lose. The longer B'Elanna waited, the better the chance that the flames would shoot up again, turning both her and her friend into ashes.
Taking a ragged breath, she ventured out onto the narrow precipice. She took a sideways step. Then another. And another.
With each one, she got a little closer to Erva. She focused on that, forgetting about everything else. All
she had to do was get one step closer each time and she would be all right.
"I'm coming," she said, to steady her own nerves as much as her friend's. "I'll be there before you know it."
As if in response, a tongue of flame rose high enough to lick at B'Elanna's feet. Clenching her jaw shut, she waited until it subsided, then continued along the ledge.
She had come halfway, she estimated. It was a milestone, something she could build a hope on. If she could come halfway, she could make it all the way across.
And if she could make it across one way, she could get back.
It sounded good, B'Elanna told herself. But even as she thought it, she knew there were no guarantees. This time, there weren't any adults around to help her out. If everything came out all right, it would be because of her and no one else.
She smiled at the idea. Her parents would be proud of her then. They couldn't be anything else. And they would love her so much, they would forget about their quarreling.
B'Elanna slid her right foot sideways, then followed with the left. Right, then left. Right, left ... always certain to test her footing before she put any weight down.
Things would be good again, she told herself. She pictured herself as a baby in her parents' embrace, just the way she had seen it in the family holos. As she brought her right foot forward, she imagined the feel of her parents' arms around her, firm and reassuring.
Left foot now, B'Elanna thought. But as she moved it, she could feel it slip off what she had believed was solid rock.
And keep going.
For a long, terrible second, she thought she felt herself falling, dropping dizzily into the scaring embrace of the flames. Then she threw herself back into the cavern wall as hard as she could.
The impact jarred B'Elanna to the roots of her teeth, but it kept her from going over. And before she could topple again, she found purchase with her left foot and lifted herself up.
Her heart was pounding so hard it was difficult to breathe, much less to continue along the ledge. So she waited a moment, taking long, deep breaths, until she was calm enough to go on.
Strangely enough, the going was much easier after that. It was as if B'Elanna had confronted the worst that could happen, and after that nothing seemed quite so scary anymore.
Finally, she reached the other side of the cavern floor, where her friend Erva was staring at her wideeyed. It wasn't as if she wasn't glad to see B'Elanna. In fact, she was very glad.
But she knew that, having reached her, B'Elanna would want to take her back. And Erva was still about as afraid of that as she could be.
"It's all right," B'Elanna told her friend. She knelt beside Erva and put her