The Witch Cave

by Sara Clancy

  “Basheba, what did you do this time?”

  Basheba huffed at the laughter that weaved through Cadwyn’s soothing voice. While she wasn’t about to admit it out loud, Cadwyn was probably the only person in the world she’d like to hear talk more. Part of it was just nature picking favorites, giving him a voice that was both deep and smooth. The other half was likely a side effect of his occupation. I doubt being a loud jerk would go over well in a mental asylum. Especially if you’re a nurse. As such, Cadwyn had developed this tone that drew attention while rarely ever getting loud. He was the only person she knew who could make a whisper sound intimidating.

  The table trembled as Cadwyn walked over the back of it, most likely to avoid the restless crowd that was still somewhat gathered around, and dropped down beside her.

  “Why do you always assume it’s me?” she asked.

  “Past experience?” he replied, his leather biker jacket crinkling as he plucked her beer bottle out of her unsuspecting hand.

  “Hey! That’s mine!” she protested.

  She swiped for the bottle, but it was a pitiful attempt, given all the extra length Cadwyn had to his advantage. All he had to do was lean out of her way while taking a few gulps from the bottle. Preoccupied with this, he limited his response to an arch of one eyebrow and the presentation of his left hand. The light flicked off of the golden wedding band, making it completely unavoidable. She would have been annoyed if it wasn’t for the displeased murmurs that ripped through the families like wildfire. Well, this might be interesting. Wanting to let that stew for a little while, she continued as if she hadn’t noticed the reaction, shoving at his shoulder.

  “That doesn’t mean that we have to share food!”

  He almost choked on the beer as he laughed. “You put it in our vows.”

  “Yeah. That you had to share with me,” she argued, yanking the bottle back. “There’s no obligation on my side.”

  “Sorry, wife. You said the vows. Now you’re stuck with it.”

  “You’re married?” Claudia shrieked, somewhere between mortified and enraged.

  It burst the dam and all the questions, accusations, and curses began to fly. The commotion drew more people in, spreading the outrage. Basheba abandoned all attempt at keeping a straight face when she spotted her uncle’s enraged face amongst the crowd. Then she burst out cackling.

  “You can’t,” Claudia stammered.

  Basheba held up her left hand, wiggling her ring finger to draw attention to the tarnished silver octopus that encased the base of her finger. It held a single black pearl in its tangled tentacles, the orb so rich that it shone like an oil slick.

  “Aw, you wore it,” Cadwyn said.

  Basheba shrugged, “It’s a special occasion.”

  “That’s not even a wedding ring!” Claudia protested.

  Rolling her head, she threw a smug look to Cadwyn, “I told you we should have gone for the mood rings.”

  “You can’t do this!” Basheba wasn’t quick enough to catch who had spoken.

  She snorted over the rim of her beer bottle. “It’s already done.”

  Claudia stomped forward a few feet, shrugging off Isaac’s attempt to hold her back. “You live entirely off the grid. How could you legally get married?”

  “That’s the whole point of living off the grid,” Basheba said, rolling her eyes. “I’m so far off everyone’s radar that no one cares what I do.”

  “I do,” Mina’s father growled.

  “That’s sweet. I don’t give a damn, but it’s sweet.”

  When Mina’s father fixed her with an icy glare, it suddenly made more sense why the girl was the way she was. Even Basheba had to admit it was kind of intimidating.

  “We have rules and order,” he said, slow and crisp. “For generations, they have protected all of us. You don’t get to pick and choose what you follow.”

  It took her a second to shake off the fatherly disapproval and shrug. “Those rules also say that you need to stick in your own lane.”

  “Isaac might be too kindhearted to force you into line, but I’m not. I am head of the Crane family; you will give me the respect that position demands.”

  A slow smile stretched her lips. “I’m already giving you every ounce of respect you’ve earned.”

  “She’s far too young for you!” The sudden shriek broke the brewing tension and made Basheba flinch. While she couldn’t quite place exactly who the speaker was, Basheba knew it came from a cluster of Winthrops, so she choked down her automatic, snide response. The things I do for my husband.

  “It’s okay, Auntie,” Cadwyn soothed.

  “She’s barely in her twenties,” Auntie continued.

  “Twenty-one, as of last month.” Basheba offer was met with a very wrinkled frown.

  “He’s thirty-one.”

  “Auntie, please,” Cadwyn said calmly. “It’s just so she can use my health insurance.”

  “Arkham Asylum has surprisingly good healthcare,” Basheba backed him up with a nod.

  Cadwyn closed his eyes and took a sobering breath, “For the last time, stop calling it that.”

  “It’s an asylum for the criminally insane. Those shouldn’t exist anymore.”

  “If you ever meet some of the residents, you’ll have a very different opinion.”

  Basheba perked up. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.

  “No, I’m not taking you to work. They’d never let you out. Although my boss has invited you to the company Christmas party this year. December 20th, if you can make it.”

  “If I’m not dead, I’ll be there.”

  “You can’t be married!” Claudia screamed, the sheer rage in her tone cutting off the steady stream of mumbling protests.

  “Claudia,” Basheba said. “If all you’re going to do is repeat yourself, maybe consider silence.”

  “He’s a Winthrop! The families can’t intermarry. It’s a rule! It’s…incestuous.”

  Cadwyn’s jaw dropped a moment before he replied. “We’re not related.”

  “You know what I mean,” Claudia dismissed. “All our lives are intertwined. She can’t become a Winthrop.”

  “The Witch will count her as one,” someone unseen argued.

  They were almost instantly countered with, “No, she won’t. It goes by blood. Basheba’s a Bell.”

  “We don’t know either way,” Cadwyn’s aunt replied, scowling at her nephew. “No one’s ever done this.”

  “Isn’t it about time we do something new?” Cadwyn said.

  “The old ways have served us well,” Mina’s father stated.

  “The old ways have made us compliant,” Mina corrected, the muscles in her jaw working as she faced down her father’s glare.

  “We’re in public,” he told his daughter. “Try to have some dignity.”

  “A dead woman has ruled our lives for two hundred years. Where’s the dignity in that?” Mina shot back.

  “I’m going to have to side with her,” Basheba said, jabbing her thumb in Mina’s direction.

  Claudia scoffed. “You lose your right to an opinion when you start inbreeding.”

  “Not related,” Cadwyn argued.

  “Not having kids,” Basheba added.

  “It doesn’t matter. You can’t do this,” Claudia pushed out through clenched teeth. “Daddy!”

  Isaac squeezed his daughter’s shoulders and moved slightly in front of her. The sight put Basheba on edge. Isaac would never attack her physically. He was too much of a coward to risk personal injury and thought himself above such ‘primitive’ things. I’m not, Basheba thought as her hand twitched toward the hunting knife hidden by the side of her thick jacket. Subtly, Cadwyn leaned closer to her. Just enough that it would be awkward for her to retrieve the knife. She huffed. You ruin all my fun. Cadwyn only gave her a thin but amused smile in return.

  “Cadwyn,” Isaac said sharply.

  The man waited with his chin raised for the younger man to give him his full attentio
n.

  Cadwyn’s smile grew into something polite and professional.

  “Yes, Uncle Isaac,” Cadwyn replied.

  The term of address made Isaac bristle.

  “This marriage is illegal.”

  “I can assure you that all the paperwork is in order,” Cadwyn replied swiftly.

  His voice was as placid as a cool lake but as hard as iron. Too polite for anyone to take offense at. Too unyielding for there to be any argument.

  Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “No one in the Bell family can marry without the consent of the family elders. That’s me. And since I didn’t walk her down the aisle, you can be assured that I didn’t give my consent.”

  “And yet, we’re married,” Cadwyn said. “That would seem to suggest that you don’t have the power over her that you think you do.”

  Isaac bared his teeth, his hands trembling as he fought to keep his composure. “Basheba is mine.”

  “Isaac, calm down,” Cadwyn’s uncle said as he crossed over to the enraged man. Basheba had never seen anyone look so self-satisfied. “What’s done is done. She’s still a Bell. She’s just also a Winthrop now.”

  “You moron,” Isaac hissed. “She’s not going to be any more loyal to you than she has been to me.” He locked his spiteful gaze onto Cadwyn. “You think she’ll listen to a damn thing you say?”

  Cadwyn’s smile took on a razor’s edge. “She already does. Just like I listen to her.”

  The earth shook violently as an explosion ripped from the ground. Basheba gripped the edge of the picnic table with one hand and reached for Buck with her other. The Rottweiler nuzzled at her palm as he struggled to keep his footing. Panicked screams rose up from the crowd as the bonfire erupted. Flames shot into the sky, crackling wildly and filling the clearing with blistering heat. It cut the group in two, with some of them retreating behind the picnic table and the others crowding along the water’s edge.

  With an audible hiss, the searing heat met the chilled October air and created a mist. The white haze settled down upon them and reduced people to shadows. Giant flares set off another round of screams, and the scattered barbeques turned into fiery geysers.

  Some people screamed for everyone to get to the water, while others commanded the group to the road. Basheba and Cadwyn leaped to their feet, with her gripping her knife and him protectively clutching his ever-present medical bag. Buck snarled and snapped as he pressed against Basheba’s legs. Mina crashed into the table, doubling over with a pained gasp but refusing to release her death grip on her brother’s arm.

  “We need to find Dad,” Jeremiah wheezed through the steam.

  Mina met Basheba’s eyes just as the trembling stopped. The flames died and the world grew quiet. Sweat made Basheba’s fingers slick as she worked her grip on her knife. She stepped onto the tabletop to get a better look through the murky air. The shifting shadows had stilled. Everything went silent. A small breath of wind stirred the trees on the far bank, making them whisper as they brushed together.

  “Oh my God,” Jeremiah whispered.

  Basheba’s jaw dropped when she caught sight of the flaming circle. It floated upon the clear center of the river. A clear, crackling disk. The water within it began to drain.

  “Mina?” Jeremiah said.

  “I see it, too,” Mina assured.

  A slight gushing sound became a waterfall—a constant, impossible draining. Family members stood in dumb silence as they watched twin horns rise from within the pit. The horns were long and thick and sharpened to a deadly point. They gave way to a bull’s head, a thick neck, and a man’s shoulders.

  Cadwyn tensed as they watched the minotaur rise, one hand absently pressing against his chest, spreading his fingers wide to cover the scar that lay beneath his shirt.

  “Why is it always bulls?” Cadwyn said through his clenched teeth.

  The minotaur stared at them from within the ring of fire. Its arms broke free of the flames, clawing and grasping at the water. The flesh charred and blistered. The gates of Hell had opened in Black River and Basheba was surprised by how stunned she was to see it.

  “She can’t do this,” Jeremiah said. “How can she do this?”

  He probably would have continued his rambling had the childlike voice not broken out across the area. Katrina.

  “Welcome home,” the phantom voice giggled. “Come play with me.”

  “Why don’t you come out here and play with us?” Basheba bellowed, throwing her arms wide.

  Cadwyn grabbed her forearm, holding her in place as he slowly rose to his feet.

  “What’s the matter, Katrina? Ya having a bad day?” Basheba continued.

  “Shush,” Mina hissed at the same time that Cadwyn asked her to stop.

  She couldn’t. Not when the possibility was lingering just out of her reach, begging to be confirmed. The minotaur slowly turned to face her. She could feel its rage like ice within her skin.

  “Do you remember me?” Basheba grinned, dizzy with hope. Come on. Show me. Prove it! “You might not. I did melt your brain, after all. Good times.”

  The minotaur’s bellow cracked over them like thunder. Fire erupted in its wake, spontaneous blazes that ignited and spread. The colored lights popped as the flames followed the length of the decorations. Ice coolers, grass, the toys left abandoned on the ground were all consumed.

  Cadwyn’s grip shifted on her arm. One hard yank and he dragged her over his shoulders, lifting her from the picnic table just before the fire began to lap at their table. Refusing to put her down, he ran to join the stream of people fleeing out onto the street, pausing only to make sure that the Crane siblings and Buck were close behind.

  It didn’t take long to have everyone accounted for. And the residents of Black River took even less time to begin fighting against the flames. If anyone saw Katrina’s work, no one mentioned it. Not that they would. The thought rolled around her head, finally breaking the seal that had kept her laughter from escaping. A slight giggle turned into a cackling fit while Cadwyn dropped her onto the hood of her car.

  “What is wrong with you?” Anger was in his voice, but his tone remained pleasant. “Why would you taunt her?”

  “I taunt everyone,” she gasped between laughing fits.

  “Why are you laughing?” Mina demanded, dragging the straps of the bags she still held higher onto her shoulder.

  “Because this has never happened before.”

  Rage clouded over Mina’s pretty face. “You find it amusing that my brother is going in when she’s this enraged?”

  Perched on the car, she was almost eye to eye with Mina. “Oh, she’s going to be more dangerous than ever. But I don’t think it’s because she’s enraged.” Her smile grew until her cheeks hurt. “If I’m not mistaken, our Katrina is scared. And I’m, oh, so keen to find out why.”

  Chapter 6

  Ozzie leaned through the gap between the front seats of the sedan to stare in dreaded wonder at the chaos that had consumed the small town of Black River. The smoke had been unmissable from the air. A dark disc that blotted out the sun and shrouded the town in early twilight. They had almost been able to convince themselves that it was a mundane forest fire. Seeing it from below left no room for denial.

  Townsfolk and firetrucks choked the streets, forcing them to circle the outskirts of the town, unable to get close to Main Street. Ash fell like snow. The tiny flakes joined together to cover the rustic buildings in a dreary blanket. Ozzie had only been to Black River twice. Both times, the thing he noticed the most was the color. Everything was always far brighter than it had any right to be. It made everything vaguely uncanny. Everything was real, but nothing looked quite right. The falling ash robbed it of all of that. It covered the world in a monotone filter.

  Percival Sewall turned on the windshield wipers as they slowly crept down the street. Through the smeared glass, Ozzie watched as the tower of smoke rose above the buildings as a single pillar, only to impossibly split into twin pillars.

 
; “That’s coming from the river,” Percival said softly.

  “Does that look like horns to anyone else?” Ozzie’s father added from the front passenger seat. “In the clouds there?”

  Percival pulled the car to the curb but kept the wipers working. Leaning against the steering wheel, he craned his neck to get a better look.

  “Yeah, those are horns,” he said absently.

  Ozzie watched his mother’s shoulders tense.

  “You can find anything in clouds. They’re like Rorschach inkblots.”

  When her husband turned to catch her eye, she threw him a stern look and tipped her head toward Ozzie. A clear sign that she didn’t want the men scaring him.

  Percival had missed the exchange and continued. “The Witch’s Brew is over in that direction. That can’t be a good sign.”

  Ozzie’s mother reached across the backseat, blindly searching for her son. Ozzie felt oddly ashamed as he took his mother’s hand and squeezed her fingers. The original plan had been to keep her out of this. Neither of his parents had a part in it. They weren’t Sewalls. They could stay away from all this, Ozzie thought. They don’t have to know. He forced a small smile when his father twisted around in the front passenger seat to check on him.

  Cadwyn would have kept them out of it. The fact laughed at him. Over the weeks of planning and days of practice, he had convinced himself that he could handle anything thrown his way. Fifteen minutes with the Witch and he was right back to where he had started. A scared little boy in need of his parents.

  “Is this normal?” Ozzie’s father asked, shifting his gaze to Percival.

  “No, Ethan. The river doesn’t normally catch on fire.”

  Decades of friendship ensured that neither man took offense. Instead, they only seemed amused by each other. In the back seat, Ozzie bit his lips to keep himself from saying anything stupid that might break their good humor. He focused on rubbing the back of his mother’s hand, trying to reassure her that everything was going to be okay.

  “What did you mean that it wasn’t a ‘good sign’? What’s happening?” she asked.