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“I’m gonna tie this into a harness around you, okay?” Garin shuffled over on his knees and held up his rope.
Sazahk didn’t know exactly what that entailed, but he nodded. “Okay.”
Ohhhh, that’s what that entailed. Sazahk flushed as Garin closed the distance between them and looped the rope around Sazahk’s waist and thighs and between his legs. That general region of Sazahk’s body hadn’t gotten any attention in a long time and he bit his lip as a certain part of his anatomy responded.
Unwanted arousal—something that had barely reared its head in Sazahk’s teenage years and never since—had been creeping around the edges of Sazahk’s consciousness since the first night Garin shared his sleeping bag. It crept a little closer every time Sazahk cataloged a new scar on the man’s body or learned some new tidbit about him or encountered some new question. And apparently, Garin’s kindness and certainty in the face of Sazahk’s bone-deep fear of falling and breaking his spine had coaxed the arousal out even farther.
“This is gonna hold you.” Garin didn’t react to the subtle tension in the front of Sazahk’s pants and Sazahk prayed to the goddess he didn’t believe in that Garin stayed focused on his rope work. “This rope is strong as hell and these knots have held bigger men than you. Once you’re down there, tug on this, and it’ll all unravel.”
Sazahk jerked his fingers away from the loose rope Garin indicated, as though mere proximity would undo his whole harness. “What if the rope’s not long enough?”
“It’s long enough.” Garin wrapped the slack around himself and hooked up some ratchets and other gear Sazahk didn’t recognize. Then he leaned himself against the cave wall on the side opposite the crevasse and braced his feet against a broad stone step cleaved through the floor.
“What if you slip?” Sazahk’s throat narrowed, and he drummed his fingers against his thigh.
“I won’t.” Garin smiled at Sazahk, affectionately, encouragingly, not mockingly.
“What about our bags?” Sazahk still didn’t move himself from his position.
“I’ll lower them down after you once you’re safely to the bottom.”
Sazahk closed his eyes and breathed. No more excuses. He called to mind that one beautiful patch of green moss shaded in the ruins of an ancient city that he’d found with Patrick, Fal’ran, Tar, and Bar’in. That one brilliant piece of life had convinced him that the Dead Zone wasn’t dead. That despite his ancestor’s incredible efforts, it could come back. That it might have already.
But he’d never find out, stuck up in a dry cave with his eyes closed.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, lifted his chin, and crawled to the ledge.
“That a way, Sazahk.” Garin’s voice rose, and Sazahk didn’t make a snarky reply. Garin’s encouragement was painfully necessary. “This is gonna be uncomfortable, but I want you to face me and go off backwards so that you can hold the rope and brace your feet on the side of the wall. Then you’ll be able to walk down step by step as I give you more rope.”
Sazahk nodded and shuffled around to face Garin. Dirt smudged the human’s handsome face, and his stubble came in dark along his jaw, but his teeth flashed white as he smiled.
“I’m gonna need verbal confirmation from here on out. I won’t be able to see you.”
“Obviously.” Sazahk licked his lips. “Yes, I got it. Backwards. Down. Step by step.”
“That’s right.”
Samples. Fresh samples. Microbes swimming around on his microscope slide. DNA unraveling before his eyes and zipping back up in the way he instructed. Sazahk thought of his favorite things as he lowered his feet down over the open air.
For a moment, he was sure he’d drop. His arms would give out, his legs would flail, the harness would disappear, and the rest of his life would be the rush of cold cave air and screaming.
But before he knew it, his boots found purchase on the cave wall, and he sat back into the snug harness Garin had wrapped around him.
“Oh.” With his feet on the stone, the rope hugging him tight, and the dark obscuring the true magnitude of the drop below him, Sazahk’s heart rate normalized.
“Not so bad, right?” Garin grinned at Sazahk from over the lip of the ledge.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Sazahk gripped the rope holding him up tight enough to whiten his knuckles against the swirling red and orange of his skin.
“I’m gonna start lowering you, alright?”
Sazahk nodded, then caught himself. “Alright.”
“You let me know if I’m going too fast.”
“Right now, you’re going too slow.”
Garin chuckled, then slowly released a length of rope through his ratchet. Sazahk’s stomach fell out as he lurched downwards, but he moved his feet and it reinserted itself. He was walking. He was just walking.
