He
studied the slow, deliberate breathing of the giant insect, trying to be
certain. When he was as sure as he could be that the creature was still
asleep, he began to descend.
He felt hollow as he went, partly from fear, and partly from the
will-crushing desperation of the act now forced upon him. He was angry
at having to be short with the girl, and once more felt bitterly
abandoned and betrayed, though by whom he could not have said. And then
came the voice that told him such an act was unnecessary---that he
risked all their lives for nothing---the cruelest lie of all. No. He
knew what must be done.
But always now his thoughts returned to fear; with every step the
feeling grew. By the time he reached the floor of the Mantis' cave,
terror had completely overtaken him. But still he went on. He HAD to
have a weapon. The Mantis might banish them that very morning, and
without it they were naked and helpless. And he knew that whatever
prayers he might offer, to the God he did not know, no one could save
him now but himself.
*
Later that night he returned, alive but nearly paralyzed with fear.
Unable to overcome the emotion, he went to the girl. Touching her face
with the back of his trembling hand, he woke her gently. He could no
longer fight back the tears as she turned to face him.
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