Seirei no Moribito - Volume 2 - Chapter 4.1

PART 4 FACING THE DARKNESS 
CHAPTER I LALOOG THE ELDER 

Laloog was dozing on the couch when Mistress Yuka came to visit. The events of the past few days had left him exhausted. His younger son, Luke, was the current chieftain of the Yonsa clan, and when he heard that the Gate to the Mountain Deep had opened, he immediately sought his father’s advice. As one of the last participants of the previous Giving Ceremony and Elder of the Yonsa clan, Laloog was highly revered. But inwardly, he was exasperated that his son insisted on consulting him about everything from the gifts for the Mountain King to the hospitality that should be offered to the envoys from the capital. 
Yesterday they had finally sent off the carts, heavily laden with gifts, and, at last, fatigue overtook the old man. He had found it hard even to get out of bed this morning. He felt himself drawing closer to death a little at a time, but he supposed it could not be helped. After all, he had never expected to live to seventy. 
He woke to a knock on the door, but it was a few moments before he could move. “Mmm?” he finally managed to murmur. 
“Master Laloog.” It was a young guard from the entrance. “Mistress Yuka from the house of healing is here again.” 
Laloog sighed. “Show her in.” 
Listening to the young man’s footsteps recede into the distance, Laloog stared moodily into the fire. Lately, he dreamed constantly of his eldest son, Taguru, and that could only be due to the unsettling news that Yuka had brought recently. Her words had stirred up the grief that he had thought buried by time. But if what she had told him was true … 
The moment he had seen her six days ago, he had been filled with foreboding. Nothing unsettled Yuka, not even when she had to lop off a patient’s arm, and he had often thought that if she were a man, she would have been an unparalleled warrior. Yet she had rushed into his room with her hair in disarray, and his fears had been immediately confirmed. Greeting him only perfunctorily, she had fixed him with fierce, glittering eyes, and launched into her preposterous tale. 
To think that Karuna’s daughter still lives … 
Of course, Laloog had not believed her at first. He had tried to convince Yuka that the woman must have been Jiguro’s lover, or that she was manipulating the story of Karuna’s daughter to suit her own designs. But Yuka had merely laughed sharply and shook her head. “It was Balsa,” she said. “You’d recognize her too if you saw her.” 
Laloog had only seen Balsa once before, long ago when Karuna, back from the capital, had paid a visit to Laloog’s younger brother, the chieftain. As a Spear, Laloog had also been living in the capital, but he happened to be staying at the chieftain’s hall to attend his nephew’s coming-of-age ceremony. Karuna had brought his three-year-old daughter with him. Her arm was in a sling, and the white bandage stood out against her skin, which was as darkly tanned as a boy’s. Apparently, the first thing she had done on reaching Yuka’s house was to fall from a tree and break her arm. “She looks more like Yuka at the same age than you,” he had told Karuna. 
Those were good years, Laloog thought. Karuna was the king’s physician and we were so proud that he came from the Yonsa clan. 
Then it had all come tumbling down in a landslide of misfortunes — the death of the king, Jiguro’s flight, Karuna’s murder, and finally the loss of Laloog’s eldest son, Taguru, who left in pursuit of Jiguro, never to return. If, as Yuka claimed, these tragedies had all originated in a plot hatched by King Rogsam … 
Laloog recalled King Rogsam’s oily face, and then the face of Jiguro Musa as a youth of sixteen, shining with courage in the Darkness below. He felt as if Jiguro, a man he had hated and tried hard to forget these many years, had suddenly fixed his fearless, determined eyes on him. 
He came back to the present at the sound of the door opening. The pungent smell of rubbing ointment preceded Yuka into the room. She came every day on the pretext of treating the pain in his joints. 
When she met his eyes, he shook his head gently. “They haven’t caught her yet.” 
Rumor had swept through the Yonsa and Musa clans faster than galloping horses: The fugitive captured by the two Musa warriors had slipped from their grasp, badly wounding them both. The news had reached Laloog’s ears the same day it happened. On its heels came a message from Kaguro Musa himself, officially requesting that the woman be apprehended if she fled into Yonsa territory. Further rumors indicated that a massive search launched by Kaguro had been unsuccessful. 
Yuka brought a chair over to Laloog’s couch and sat down. She began massaging ointment into his wrinkled elbow with practiced hands. His arm was thin and the muscles were withered, so that the loose, baggy skin moved under her hand each time she ran her fingers over it. 
“I hear that Yuguro Musa has already passed through Yonsa territory,” she said. 
“Yes, he joined up with the men from our clan. They should reach Yonro territory tomorrow.” 
Yuka increased the pressure in her fingers. “I’m sure Kaguro will listen to you now that Yuguro’s gone.” 
Laloog looked at her sharply. “Yuka —” 
“People are saying that Yuguro left Kaguro’s eldest son behind and took his own son with him instead. In fact, Master Kahm only passed through Yonsa territory this morning. Surely this is a god-given opportunity. Kaguro must have some misgivings.” 
Laloog sighed. “You hear everything.” 
Yuka smiled. “The waiting room at the house of healing has always been a hotbed of gossip.” 
Laloog gazed up at the ceiling. “You would ask me to trigger an avalanche between the Yonsa and Musa tribes? There’s no strength in this old body of mine to stop it once it starts, you know.” He added in a whisper, “I can’t take that risk on something that won’t benefit our clan in any way.” 
“You are the clan Elder. The clansmen are your children. Would you stand by and watch your children die?” She scooped up some sticky yellow ointment with her ring finger, then said quietly, “Even now I hate the one who killed my brother. I can still see Karuna’s dead eyes staring into space. Would you forgive the man who made the best young warriors of our clans die for nothing — the man who sent Taguru to his death?” 
Laloog roughly brushed her hand away and sat up with a groan. He faced her, glaring. “Where’s the proof? Tell me that. Just where is the proof that will convince our people I should accuse the most powerful man in Kanbal of deception?” 
“There is a witness — Balsa. Will you let Yuguro kill her?” 
“That’s what I mean. There’s no proof that that woman is telling the truth.” He shook his head. “Yuka, there’s nothing I can do about it. How many times are you going to bring this up?” 
She stared straight into his eyes. “As many times as it takes. Do you think I’m going to stand by and let him kill my only niece?” 
There must be some way to help Balsa. This thought consumed Yuka both waking and sleeping. But she always came back to that one fatal flaw: There was no way to prove that Balsa was telling the truth. 
When she left Laloog’s room and went outside, snow was falling like dust from the silver sky. The men were busy fixing the winter livestock pens to ready them for the goats being herded down from the crags. Soon the mountains would be buried in snow. 
Yuka wondered where Balsa was now. Mounting her short, sturdy mare, she headed back to the house of healing through a flurry of powdery flakes. 
 
That night Laloog heard a strange bird calling him in his dreams. He opened his eyes with a start and lay on his bed listening to the faint sound of the wind. The room was dark. The fire had died down to embers that cast only a feeble glow. 
Suddenly, he tensed. Through the chimney came a high, thin whistle. When he grasped its meaning, he began to tremble. Thirty-five years ago he had heard that same call in the Mountain Deep: “The People of the Mountain King have come to speak to thee.” 
He lay motionless in stunned disbelief. But when he heard it again, he rose from his bed and dressed warmly in seldom-used boots, two pairs of woollen socks, and his thick kahl. Then he went over to the window and opened it as quietly as possible. 
A cold, snowy gust blew into the room. The window faced onto the back garden, which was sunk in darkness, but below the windowsill he saw two small bluish-white eyes glowing in the black. 
“Welcome, Servant of the Mountain King,” Laloog said in a low voice. “Please come in.” 
 
The villages of Kanbal bustled with activity during Langal Tonoi, the month of the first snow, when the Herders brought the goats down to their winter pens beside the clan settlement. Herder men and boys lived much of the year in simple huts beside the high mountain pastures, while the women lived in houses just outside the village, working in the fields and weaving. But at the beginning of winter, all the clansmen helped tend the goats, and the clanswomen likewise took over the Herder women’s share of the fieldwork, knowing they were busy welcoming their menfolk home. 
Kassa too was swept up in the activity. As he gathered his family’s goats, he watched Toto the Elder, Yoyo, and the others joyfully returning to their homes just outside the outer wall of the village. He found it hard to believe that the people rejoicing at this homecoming were the same ones who had crouched with him on the rock shelves only a few nights before. 
While it was a season of reunion for the Herder People and their families, it was also the time when most clansmen left their families to seek work in New Yogo. The men’s well-worn kahls, painstakingly waterproofed with grease, hung from the eaves of the clan’s houses, swaying in the wind over small mounds of earth: the graves of the countless children who had died soon after birth. In a poor country like Kanbal, only four out of every ten children survived. Those who died were buried in the shelter of the eaves, where they became guardian spirits watching over the house. The kahls were hung over their graves in hopes that their spirits would slip inside the cloaks, protecting their fathers or brothers on their journeys to foreign lands. 
Children now sat by these same graves, rubbing grease into the men’s boots. They talked and laughed with their friends as their fingers worked the leather. They would miss their fathers and brothers during the long winter months, but they accepted their temporary absence as part of life. Nor did the men who would soon be leaving appear sad or gloomy. Working in foreign lands far from their families was hard, but for the young ones, it was also a chance to see the outside world and learn from their elders how to find a little fun. For the older men, it was simply what they did every winter. 
Kassa’s father had at first been happy that he could stay home, thanks to the large sum of money they’d received for the luisha. But when he saw his fellow villagers preparing to go, he spent much of that small fortune buying new boots for all of them, probably out of guilt. Driving the goats along the path, Kassa overheard several men talking about Tonno’s gift as they fixed a fence. “It was nice of him,” they said with affection and a trace of humor. “But how like Tonno to worry about what others might think!” Kassa listened with mixed feelings, understanding both the men’s thoughts and his father’s motivations. 
As Kassa herded the disgruntled goats into the enclosure, he glanced toward the village gate. According to Toto, the Yonsa clan Elder should arrive sometime today. “Ow!” he yelped as a goat stepped on his foot. He blushed, embarrassed, but fortunately no one else seemed to have noticed. 
Just then the shrill blast of a horn split the air. Kassa jumped and looked toward the gate again. Far in the distance, he saw people coming up the road from the valley. A warrior rode ahead, the Yonsa flag tied to his spear flapping in the wind, and behind him rolled a horse-drawn carriage accompanied by a single horseman. 
He’s here. The Yonsa Elder really had come to meet Kaguro, just as Toto had said. The village was now astir with excitement at their arrival. As he pushed an escaping goat back into the pen, Kassa hoped with all his heart that the meeting would go well. 
 
Frowning slightly, Kaguro came out to greet his unexpected guest. Guards lined both sides of the road from the gate to the hall as the carriage, flanked by two mounted warriors, drew up to the entrance. As soon as it halted, a strange woman wrapped in a kahl climbed out quickly and then turned to help Laloog down. She led him forward to stand before the Musa chieftain. 
“Master Kaguro,” Laloog said in a rasping voice. “Please forgive me for arriving unannounced.” 
Kaguro inclined his head slightly. “No, no, you are welcome,” he said. “Please come inside. We’ll prepare a feast to celebrate your visit.” He turned to lead his guest toward the great hall. 
“Just a moment, Master Kaguro. I’ve actually come to discuss something highly confidential.” 
Kaguro paused, momentarily discomfited. As one of the last surviving Spears, Laloog was held in high esteem by all the clans, and Kaguro felt a little nervous in his presence. “Ah, I see. Then shall we go to my private chamber?” He led him deeper into the building to his room. He noticed that although Laloog had claimed the discussion was to be confidential, he showed no sign of dismissing the woman by his side. 
Once the three were alone in the dimly lit, chilly room, Kaguro hastily added coals to the fire and stirred up the flames. Then he led Laloog over to an armchair. After a brief glance at the woman, he looked at Laloog. “Excuse me, but who is this?” 
Laloog returned his gaze steadily. “Let me introduce you. This is Balsa of the Yonsa clan, daughter of Karuna, and Jiguro’s foster child.” 
Kaguro reeled backward as if he had been struck. Quietly removing her kahl, Balsa turned to him and bowed slightly. 
“Wha — what do you mean by this?” After the first shock of surprise, anger kindled in Kaguro’s eyes. “This woman is a criminal, one I requested you capture to protect the honor of my clan! Why have you —” 
Laloog raised his hand abruptly. “Master Kaguro. Will you trust me long enough to hear me out?” 

Kaguro clenched his shaking fists and sat down heavily in a chair. 
“It’s a long story — and a disturbing one. But the fate of Kanbal rests upon whether or not you choose to believe me. So please listen carefully.” Quietly but passionately, Laloog began relating the tale of Balsa’s father, Karuna, physician to King Naguru, of his friendship with Jiguro, and of Rogsam’s treacherous plot…. 
Kaguro sat rigidly as he listened to the dark tale unfold. Partway through, Balsa picked up the thread and in her pleasantly low, calm voice related what had transpired after their flight from Yogo. By the time she reached her return to Kanbal, the last rays of the dying sun had already faded into blackness. 
When she finished, Kaguro remained motionless for some time. Finally he raised his face and looked at Laloog, his eyes gleaming. “What proof do you have that this story is true?” 
Laloog gave a small sigh. “Only that this woman is truly Karuna’s daughter, Balsa. That I can guarantee. My healer, Yuka, was Karuna’s younger sister — in other words, Balsa’s aunt — and if you saw her, one glance would convince you that they are indeed blood kin.” 
“But —” 
Laloog cut him off before he could speak. “As I explained, Karuna told Yuka that Balsa died in an accident, then he himself was murdered only days later. Yuka’s a physician. She saw the marks on her brother’s body.” He looked up at Kaguro. “I know how flimsy this evidence is. But think, Kaguro. Remember those days. What kind of man was Rogsam? And what kind of man was Jiguro?” 
Kaguro bit his lip. The wind seemed to roar in his ears, whipping up the days of his youth, long, long ago. He had been an unremarkable child; his only outstanding talent had been spear-wielding, but even in that he could take no pride because his younger brother Jiguro was always beside him. Jiguro’s gift had blossomed at a very young age, and everyone marveled at it, saying that he must have inherited it from his grandfather, who had been chosen as the Dancer. 
If Jiguro had been conceited like Shisheem, Kaguro might have hated him. But the more he was praised, the more silent Jiguro became, and the more reluctant to wield his spear in front of others. When he was told that Jiguro had stolen the nine rings and fled in protest against Prince Rogsam’s appointment as king, Kaguro had been incredulous. While it was true that Jiguro hated the prince, he had never been one to push his views on others. 
Yuguro, however, was the exact opposite. From childhood, he had been bright and cheerful, capable of charming anyone. When Kaguro became chieftain, Yuguro, who was still a youth, had moved to the capital. There he quickly assumed the luxurious life of a city dweller. When he had volunteered to hunt down Jiguro, Kaguro was stunned yet again. He could remember how the usually reticent Jiguro used to pick Yuguro up and play with him when he was just a toddler. Perhaps because he himself was taciturn, Jiguro had been very fond of his gregarious little brother. 
And then, when Yuguro returned triumphant, Kaguro felt as though his heart had been gouged from his chest. He knew Jiguro. Yuguro could never have defeated him if Jiguro had fought in earnest, and it grieved him to think he had let his younger brother kill him. Consequently, he found Yuguro’s behavior hard to understand. He had slain his own brother, albeit a dishonorable criminal, and won fame and glory as a hero in the capital. If their roles had been reversed and Jiguro had pursued and killed Yuguro, Jiguro would never have shown his face in public again. He would have returned to his village and lived quietly, mourning his brother…. 
These thoughts churned in Kaguro’s mind, clamoring for attention. There was no proof. Yet the man Balsa had just described to him was far more like the Jiguro he had known than the version he had come to believe. 
He heaved a great sigh, then looked at Balsa. “And if this story is true, what do you plan to do about it?” 
She gazed at Kaguro’s lined face. He looked so much more like Jiguro than Yuguro did when she had met him long ago — even the eyes that gazed at her from under slightly furrowed brows. 
“Nothing. There’s no proof. And besides, nothing I can do will bring Jiguro back to life. If you believe me, then it was worth coming back to let you know your brother was not a traitor, to tell you what kind of life he led.” A smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Yuguro tried to poison me, but he didn’t need to go to all that trouble. I can’t change anything.” 
Kaguro stood up. “I believe you,” he said finally, his voice determined. “But I can’t announce that publicly. If you’ll promise in writing never to return to Kanbal, you may return freely to New Yogo.” 
Balsa glanced briefly at Laloog. Three nights ago the Herder People had led her through the caves to Yonsa territory, where Laloog had met her. She had been afraid that Laloog would not believe her tale about the conspiracy, despite his respect for the Herders as people of the Mountain Deep. But on the contrary, he had received her warmly. It was then that she had learned that her Aunt Yuka had been trying to convince him for days. 
She turned her gaze back to Kaguro. “I’m afraid that I can’t leave Kanbal just yet.” 
He frowned deeply. “Why not?” 
“There’s something I have to do.” 
 
In response to an urgent summons, Kassa and his father found themselves ushered into Kaguro’s private chamber. Kassa, who knew the reason, felt the long-awaited moment had come, but his father, who had no clue of what was going on, looked very anxious. Kaguro, Laloog, and Balsa were waiting for them. 
Kaguro greeted them with a deep frown and began methodically explaining the situation. Tonno listened with an expression of stunned disbelief. When he had finished, Kaguro slowly shook his head. “Frankly,” he said, “I still can’t quite accept it myself.” He glanced at Balsa. “I can’t help but feel that this idea is too advantageous for you. Protecting Kassa is the perfect excuse for you to sneak into the ceremony chamber and take revenge on Yuguro under cover of the darkness.” 
Balsa smiled bitterly. “That’s true.” 
“Now wait a minute!” Laloog intervened. “Do you think I would tell such a preposterous lie just to allow Balsa to avenge a grudge?” 
Kaguro maintained a sullen silence for a few seconds and then finally sighed. “No … When my father was dying, he told me, ‘I will make you clan chieftain, but in any matter pertaining to the Mountain King, you must defer to Jiguro because he has seen the King himself. He knows the secret hidden from Kanbal.’ ” He raised his head and looked at Laloog. “But it never occurred to me that the Herders were people of the Deep … or that they were spying on us.” 
A look of displeasure crossed his face and then faded. “Master Laloog. Even if the tale of the Herder People is true, we’re Kanbalese. Shouldn’t we be thinking of what will bring happiness to Kanbal? Don’t you think Yuguro is right? He’s our greatest spearman. Surely there’s a chance that he could defeat the hyohlu? If his plan should succeed and we gained free access to luisha …” 
Laloog reached out and gripped Kaguro’s hand with his own. Surprised, Kaguro looked down at him. 
“Master Kaguro. That is a terribly foolish dream. Even now, the fear inspired by the hyohlu chills me to the very marrow. As one who has taken part in the Giving Ceremony, I tell you that there is not the remotest chance that a spearman with evil intentions can ever defeat a hyohlu! 
“And know this also. The Mountain King is not what you imagine him to be. I can’t tell you what I witnessed beneath the mountain because I’m bound by the vow of silence. But even if I were to try to describe it in words, you’d never be able to understand me.” 
He squeezed Kaguro’s hand tightly. “All I can do is beg you to believe me. Luisha is not merely a gem. To invade the Mountain Deep and try to take as much luisha as you want is like milking a she-goat to death while demanding that she produce more milk!” His hand was trembling. “When a goat gives birth to a kid, she shares her milk with us. Luisha too is a treasure that can only be shared when the time is right.” 
He gently released Kaguro’s hand. “I suppose it’s impossible for you to understand how I feel. But Master Kaguro, trust me, for I speak as one of only two men left who have seen the Mountain Deep. If the Mountain King dies, Kanbal will perish with him.” 
Silence blanketed the room. 
Kaguro frowned and looked at Laloog. “But I just can’t believe that Yuguro is that stupid. It’s true that this time no one has participated in the ceremony before, but Yuguro traveled to Yonsa territory to learn all about it from you. Didn’t you tell him?” 
“Of course I did. I explained everything that happens in the Darkness, but not what happens after the Spear Dance. That knowledge belongs only to those who participate in the Ceremony.” A bitter expression crossed his face as he looked at Kaguro. “You said that you can’t believe Yuguro could be so foolish. If I may say so, Yuguro is not a fool, but rather dangerously hard-hearted. His actions have made that abundantly clear, although I’ve realized it far too late.” 
Kaguro scowled at him, the cleft between his brows showing starkly. Laloog gazed back steadily. 
“As I said, I told Yuguro everything that happens during the ceremony. The fact that he has still gone ahead with this plan means that he didn’t take me seriously. And I would wager that he hasn’t told the other Spears what he learned from me either.” Laloog clenched his fists. “In fact, he has cleverly prevented them from learning anything. My grandson Dahgu has been kept so busy that he hasn’t been able to return to Yonsa territory for the last three years. Now I finally understand why.” 
Anger and fear hung heavy in the room. 
“Ex — excuse me …” Kassa’s father broke the silence. “Forgive me, but surely you can’t be suggesting that Kassa try to stop a scheme that clever Master Yuguro has spent so much time planning? Why, that’s …” He choked and then continued. “That’s impossible! I won’t let you do that to my son!” 
“Father!” 
Tonno gestured impatiently for him to be quiet. “If you’ll pardon me saying so, even if Master Kahm were to believe Kassa, he has no hope of stopping Master Yuguro either, let alone the king. And if the Musa and Yonsa clans should oppose the king, we’ll all be branded as rebels.” 
Kassa had never heard his father speak so forcefully. Kaguro and Laloog stared wordlessly at his tanned face, now a dark red as he glared at them. Laloog grimaced and buried his face in his hands. When he lifted it again, everyone was shocked by his expression of despair. 
“Then we’re lost, for the Darkness reads the minds of men,” he said. “When the hyohlu comes to the Spear Dance, the chamber is plunged into darkness. Within it wait countless other hyohlu, who peer into the hearts of the Kanbalese. 
“Experiencing this in the flesh is completely different from hearing it described in words. Yuguro is a master at using words to manipulate people. He probably thinks that he can talk his way through this situation too. But the hyohlu aren’t so easily swayed. If they sense even a trace of enmity, they’ll attack instantly.” 
The corners of his mouth twisted in a sad smile and his eyes were full of tears. “Yuguro will be slain mercilessly, we’ll fail to obtain luisha, and Kanbal will starve.” 
Balsa gazed up at the ceiling with knitted brows. Then, taking a deep breath, she looked down at Laloog and said, “The ceremony chamber, just how big is it?” 
He looked up and hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders. “The king, his nine Spears, and their attendants — about twenty people in all — form a circle along the stone walls of the chamber. The spearmen compete in the center of that ring. You’ll get an idea of the size if you imagine a space just big enough for twenty men to form a circle.” 
“So even if there’s an army waiting outside, there’re only twenty men inside, right? Of those twenty men, how many would side with us if they heard your message?” 
Laloog and Kaguro looked at each other. “I suppose Master Kahm and my grandson, Dahgu.” 
Balsa frowned. “Just two. That’s nowhere near enough.” 
At that moment, Kassa piped up. “Er, excuse me, but …” His face flushed beet red as all eyes suddenly turned toward him. He was so nervous that the top of his scalp went numb, but he forged on bravely. “Um … The evening before he left for the capital, I met Master Kahm. I don’t know how to explain this, but he seemed afraid. He may have been told how the ceremony is conducted, but none of them know what really happens in the Mountain Deep. Master Kahm isn’t a coward. I’m sure of that. So it made me think the other warriors must be nervous too.” Kassa faced Kaguro, unaware that he was gazing squarely into the eyes of a man he had never had the courage to even look at before. 
“Master Kahm told me he was doing this to save Kanbal from starvation, as if he was trying to convince himself that he must risk his life despite his fears…. I’m sure that many others must feel the same way. If they’re afraid, they just might listen if they hear that I’ve brought a warning from Master Laloog, who actually knows what happens there.” 
Tonno was staring at his son as if he were a stranger, but Kassa was so wound up he didn’t notice. “I think we have to chance it and hope that others will join us. My father said we might be viewed as rebels, but I don’t think this is the time to worry about that. I think it’s more like being faced with a herd of goats stampeding toward a cliff. We have to head them off before they go over.” He looked at Balsa. “I want to see my cousin Kahm one more time. Please let me go.” 
Tonno grasped his shoulder. Kassa placed his hand on the hilt of his dagger and looked up at his father. Balsa remained silent, studying the expression on his face. She had thought him cowardly once, but now she saw an unexpected stubbornness. In this state he was likely to go to the Herder People and plead with them to take him even on his own. 
She sighed. “Well, if you’re that set on it, I suppose we’ll just have to give it a try.” 
Everyone turned to look at her in surprise. 
“But in return, Kassa, you must promise me this. If you find that nothing you can do will change things, you must do as I say and run.” 
Kassa hesitated a moment, but then he nodded. 
“Do you promise?” 
“Yes.” 
Balsa looked at Tonno. “I’m still not sure what the inside of that cave is like, but if it’s dark, I may be able to help at least Kassa to escape.” As she said it, she saw her own death clearly in her mind. But for some reason, the idea of going to the chamber in the Mountain Deep did not bother her. She realized that in her heart she actually wanted to enter that Darkness in which Jiguro had danced with the hyohlu. 
Tonno looked at her as if he did not know what to do. She gazed back at him. “I can’t tell you that I’ll bring Kassa back alive,” she said. “But I can promise you one thing. I won’t return without him.”