The Witch Cave

by Sara Clancy

  “Cadwyn,” Abraham called from the darkness. “Over here.”

  The static rose to a deafening roar that consumed the other voice. There was only Abraham, calling for him, leaving him. Cadwyn hurried after the retreating specter.

  Rotten leaves squished under his feet, threatening to trip him as he fled from the light. In time, the squish of leaves gave way to loose pebbles then, at last, hard stone. As he thundered deeper into the darkening world, the air became dank and tainted with the combination of rot and stale musk. After about a quarter of a mile, the walls opened up, transforming the tunnel into a vast, hollow chamber.

  He left behind the well-trodden path that lined the walls to slide down the sharp slope to the water’s edge. The underground lake was little more than a polished sheet of ebony. It sat perfectly still, without a single ripple to stir its surface. Voices and motion followed him. All of it was easy enough to ignore as he searched the clustered shadows.

  “Cadwyn.”

  After so many years, hearing Abraham’s voice again broke him. Choking on a sob, Cadwyn turned to the right and began to scramble over the uneven stones surrounding the water.

  “Abraham,” he called softly.

  He swooped under a jagged stone that protruded over the water and stopped. A few small pebbles toppled into the water, the soft splash the only noise left to break the silence. Abraham stood before him, no longer as Cadwyn wished to remember him, but the brutal reality of what he had been forced to become.

  Withered and frail, reeking of early decay, his body a grotesque patchwork of gangrene and necrotizing fasciitis. The flesh-eating virus had ravaged him, devoured him from the inside out, carving out little tunnels that a variety of insects had infested.

  Tears blurred Cadwyn’s vision as he lowered his gaze to his brother’s right leg. The battered, shredded stump where it had once been. Twelve years old, frightened, and alone, Cadwyn should have never attempted the amputation.

  Why did I follow? His self-preservation instincts raged at him, cursing him for depriving them of such a slim kindness to hold onto. If he had just stayed where he was, he could have kept the image of Abraham as he had been.

  “It was a lie,” Cadwyn whispered, forcing himself to meet the ghost’s eyes.

  “Cadwyn,” Abraham said, his voice distorted by the damage that ravaged his mouth and throat. “I don’t feel so good.”

  He reached out for Cadwyn. Bloody pus broke free of the limp flesh that dropped from his bones. The droplets fell to the stone in a soft pattering.

  “Help me,” Abraham pleaded.

  Cadwyn gasped. Everything screamed at him to go to his brother. To stay by his side, protect him as best he could, shield him from the evil that threatened them both. Without conscious thought, he lifted his hand to the remains of his brother, inching closer even as Abraham’s flesh slopped away to expose muscle and bone.

  “Abraham,” Cadwyn sobbed, a small reassuring smile pulling at his lips. “It’ll all be okay. Just rest.”

  The skin around Abraham’s jaw chipped away as he worked it, drawing his rotten lips into an answering smile. “God, have mercy on us.”

  The words slashed into his soul, forcing him to buckle in half as a dark shape loomed in his peripheral vision. Cadwyn spun to see the putrid, yellow eyes of the demon blazing in the darkness. He swung blindly, feeling flesh give way under his knuckles. Pain flashed across the back of his knees, driving down hard enough to work the joint and force him to kneel. The demon’s laughter filled him, threatening to crack his skull from within. The sound brought with it the echoing remains of a year spent as its prisoner. Agonized screams, both his brother’s and his own. Broken sobs and desperate prayers that never seemed to be answered.

  Gnashing his teeth, Cadwyn threw himself at the demon in a blind fury. They crashed to the unforgiving ground. It thrashed under him but he managed to throw a leg over and straddle the beast. It never stopped laughing. The mocking cackle shook the walls and forced stones around them to tremble. It fueled his rage. He wanted it to hurt, wanted it to feel the fear it had inflicted upon him. Snatching up a rock, he drove it down into the gleeful, monstrous face.

  Fire slashed along his thigh, tracing the scar the sacrificial bull had given him months before. He bellowed in rage and agony and rose the stone to strike again. Fangs latching onto his wrist, the thick leather of his jacket barely managing to spare his flesh from the attack. Rearing back, he found himself face to face with Buck. The colossal Rottweiler whipped his jaws about before dragging him back and off of the body below him.

  “Cadwyn!” Mina screamed.

  He bared his teeth in a feral snarl and threw himself at the creature again. Only it wasn’t there. Basheba was. Her blue eyes dazed and blood bubbling from her mouth.

  Chapter 8

  Basheba lurched up, unprepared for the world to ripple and slosh across her vision. Her stomach roiled under the force of it. She braced herself against the cold stones, almost missing the copper tang that drenched her taste buds. As the blood welled in her mouth, she pressed a hand against her tender jaw, trying to force her brain to function. Everything inside her felt loose around the edges. Soft and pliable and rubbing against each other with every breath. The only part of her that remained solid was her grip on her hunting knife. It served as an anchor, allowing her something to hold onto while angry words and low growls dug into her pounding skull.

  Lurching to the side, she spat out a mouthful of blood, confused by the soft clatter that accompanied it. Her blurred vision cleared just in time to see a stray tooth topple across the stones, coming to a stop on the last rock before the obsidian water. Carefully, she leaned forward, her fingers wavering as she reached out. Tinkling drips of water rose over the noise behind her. Basheba jolted, her trembling hand hovering in place, as a tentacle slipped from the depths. It’s one of Katrina’s tricks, Basheba told herself before deciding to blame the blow to her head. It won’t be here.

  Her stomach clenched tight as a single memory emerged from the scattered haze of her mind. The Leviathan. Mina interrupted me before the tradition was complete.

  The tentacle coiled out over the rocks, incandescent blue at one moment, rich blood red the next, seeking the pool of fluid Basheba had shed. Snow white suction cups quivered with anticipation as the tip of the tentacle looped around her broken tooth. Then, as silently and swiftly as it had emerged, it returned into the lake with its prize.

  Basheba flung herself back, retreating over the rocks with her knife raised and her free hand reaching for Buck. He didn’t come to her. Abruptly, the sounds tormenting her took on new meaning. She whipped around to see Cadwyn stomp on the joint of Buck’s hind leg and strike at the hinge of his jaw in the same moment. The dual attack was just enough for him to rip his arm free of Buck’s fangs. The shredded remains of Cadwyn’s leather jacket hung around his bleeding arm as he rolled up into a crouch.

  The two circled each other, chests heaving and damp with blood and sweat. Saliva flung from Buck’s jaws as he snapped at the air. Cadwyn’s bangs had swooped down to shield his face, drawing more attention to the way his lips curled back in a snarl. Basheba stared unblinkingly at the rare sight.

  Percival shattered the moment by rushing forward. It was only a few steps but more than enough to have both primal figures fix their attention upon him. The older man readjusted his grip on the cattle prod he was holding.

  “Hey, that’s mine.” Basheba’s protest became an unintelligible gargle as blood rushed past her lips.

  Cadwyn brought up his hand as he growled, “Don’t.”

  “He’s going to kill you,” Percival argued.

  “Basheba will kill me if I hurt him.”

  Any protest was left unsaid as Buck charged, barreling down upon Cadwyn with bared fangs, lunging at the last moment. It was just enough room for Cadwyn to roll under the airborne dog and turn around in time for the next attack. Basheba’s slight smile faded the instant Cadwyn’s foot slipped back into the
water. Hurriedly, she pursed her lips to whistle, but the combination of blood and pain choked off the sound.

  Swearing and spitting cleared out her mouth enough that she was able to shout. “Buck! Release!”

  Buck instantly lost all interest in Cadwyn, breaking away mid-attack to gallop over to Basheba. She welcomed him with open arms, laughing as he alternated between licking her face and nudging her with whimpering concern. It was hard to keep a solid hold on him as his rump wiggled around in excitement.

  “I’m okay,” she cooed, rubbing down his sides as she soothed him and checked for wounds at the same time. “How’s my gorgeous boy? Huh?”

  “Oh, God. Basheba,” Cadwyn whimpered, all ferocity gone to leave him shaking and stricken.

  “Get away from the water.”

  The horrified expression didn’t leave his face as he obeyed. “I wasn’t going to hurt him. I swear.”

  “But you have no problem attacking her?” Ha-Yun shot back.

  Basheba tried to scoff but, once again, her damaged mouth turned it into a sharp hiss. With Buck now safely tucked under her arm, her adrenaline dwindled, allowing pain to rear up inside her like an angry beast.

  “Basheba?” Cadwyn rushed toward her, stopping short when Buck released a threatening growl.

  Covering her mouth with one hand, she tried to soothe her pet with the other.

  “It’s all right,” she said.

  “No, it’s not,” Ha-Yun shrieked.

  “I didn’t see her,” Cadwyn said.

  “You were beating her with a rock,” Ethan cut in, starting for Basheba’s side.

  Buck lowered his head, his hackles raised and his lips curling back. A clear threat that Ethan headed.

  “I didn’t see her,” Cadwyn snarled. “It was the demon!”

  “Hold up.” Catching sight of Ozzie, Basheba decided to swallow the blood in her mouth rather than force him to see it. “So, you saw a demon and your first instinct was to tackle it?”

  Cadwyn stared at her helplessly for a moment before he shrugged one shoulder. Her first burst of laughter was a shock to everyone but herself, which only made the whole situation funnier to her. As the cavern echoed her giggles, she met Cadwyn’s gaze. He managed to hold on for a moment longer, shoulders trembling and his face flushed red. They laughed until her sides ached and her blood seeped between her fingers to drench her flannel shirt.

  “You’re such an idiot,” she gasped, flicking the blood off of her fingers.

  He sucked in a breath. “It seemed like the thing to do at the time.”

  The whole group backed toward the entrance of the cave when thudding footsteps sped toward them. Searching beams of light slashed across the shadows, drawing ever closer.

  “That would be the guide,” Percival said sharply.

  Basheba gulped down another mouthful of thick copper blood. “Ozzie, take your parents and cut them off. Percival, go with them. Throw a little weight around if you have to but keep them away from us.”

  Before Ha-Yun could ask, Basheba elaborated.

  “Everyone in this town knows that Katrina has called dibs on us. Since interfering with us runs the risk of crossing her, we can get away with a lot more than anyone else can.” Testing her jaw with a gentle touch made her flinch. “I have no idea why more don’t exploit that little fact.”

  “A cult is trying to kill you.” Ha-Yun’s tone suggested that this was one detail Ozzie had been downplaying quite a bit. “Why would you ever come back here?”

  “It’s not the whole town. Just a few people in it,” Ozzie said sheepishly.

  “That’s more than enough, Osgood,” Ha-Yun scolded.

  Mina cut in, “The plan was to stay with the safety of the families until we could slip in here.”

  “Isn’t that what you did?” The sweep of Ha-Yun’s hand chastised her more than screaming could.

  “We underestimated how bold the cult was. Last time, they only attacked at night and in isolation. I thought the threat of tourists would make them hesitate.”

  Ha-Yun heaved a sigh, her maternal instincts softening her tone. “It wasn’t safe.”

  “Where in Black River is?” Basheba’s dismissive snort ended in a pained gasp. “Now, can you guys please go and stop the tourists before we’re the attraction?”

  Ethan looked between the lights, his friend, and Basheba. At last, he locked his gaze on Cadwyn. “I don’t think we should leave you alone.”

  “I’ve lost a tooth,” Basheba noted. “Heaps of blood. Might be a good idea to keep your blood-phobic son away from me for a bit.”

  Parental protection kicked in for all three concerned and they quickly began ushering Ozzie back toward the entrance. Ozzie himself hesitated, glancing over his shoulder and slowing his pace. Basheba smiled behind her hands, hoping that her eyes would convey the gesture without making him sick.

  “It’s okay. We’re good.”

  “But,” Ozzie stammered. “Cadwyn doesn’t do well with missing teeth.”

  “That’s why Mina’s staying back with us,” Basheba said, hurriedly swallowing a mouthful of blood as her brow furrowed. “And Jeremiah, I guess. Not gonna lie, Jerry, I honestly forgot you existed.”

  Jeremiah shuffled slightly more behind his sister and kept his mouth shut.

  “I’m okay now,” Cadwyn assured. “We’ll be up in a second.”

  Even though he was the one they were worried about, Cadwyn had no problem placating the crowd. He waited for them to move away before trying to get closer to Basheba again, Buck’s warning grumbles not enough to make him give up.

  “I’m so sorry,” Cadwyn said.

  “You should be,” Basheba snapped. “You run off to do something asinine and didn’t bring me along? That’s my whole thing, Cad!”

  Cadwyn’s lips jerked into a small smile despite himself. “I’ll remember to extend an invitation next time.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  Fighting against Buck’s attempts to keep himself as a furry shield, Basheba got to her feet and walked over to the cave wall, as far from the water as she could get without risking exposure to the general public. There wasn’t any point in drawing more attention. Cadwyn matched her stride for stride, never coming closer nor taking his eyes off of her.

  “I think I’m going to need some stitches,” she said.

  The pain had grown enough to throb along her nerve endings. She hid it as best she could as she settled onto a large boulder. One that would let her lay down on a slope. Buck rested his head on her stomach, whimpering softly. He settled once she began scratching him behind his ears.

  “There’s a dentist in town,” Jeremiah said, his eyes narrowing as he watched Cadwyn pull his medical bag free from his shoulders.

  “It’s all right,” Basheba said. “Mina knows how to do stitches.”

  Cadwyn flinched and twisted around to stare at Mina. She stared back at him, looking helpless and guilty.

  “What is that?” Basheba asked, waving a hand between the two. “What’s going on with your faces?”

  “Nothing,” Mina blurted out.

  “I’ll assist her,” Cadwyn added meekly, “if you’ll let me.”

  It clicked, and Basheba laughed. A short sound that soon turned into a pained gasp. “Right. I’m punishing you by not letting you repeatedly stab me with a needle.”

  “I only want to help you,” Cadwyn mumbled.

  “Blood, mouth, teeth. Not a good combo for you, idiot,” she shot back, enduring the spike of pain it took to roll her eyes. “I don’t care about the attempted murder stuff. Throwing up on me, however, is grounds for divorce.”

  The sorrow remained in his eyes even as the corner of his mouth jerked again. “In sickness and in health, Basheba. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

  “Hey,” she snorted, the sound slightly distorted by the blood pooling in her mouth. Stripping off her backpack, she used it as a pillow. “You vowed to love, honor, and obey. I didn’t see you doing much of that
at the mouth of the cave.”

  Mina had been quietly bustling around them, checking the contents of the medical bag and coordinating with her brother to get the most out of their combined phone lights. Jerking, she cut back into the conversation.

  “You vowed to obey?”

  “So did she,” Cadwyn said.

  Mina’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Really?”

  “Yeah, but it was more of a suggestion for me,” Basheba said, her words trailing off as the last of her adrenaline faded and the pain took hold.

  A small whimper escaped her, and Cadwyn was kneeling beside her, ignoring Buck’s growls. It was rare that Basheba got a chance to see him in full ‘professional mode,’ and she took a moment to enjoy it. There was a laser focus to his eyes that played in fun contrast to his utterly relaxed posture. With swift efficiency, he stripped off his jacket, sanitized his hands and battered forearms, and snapped on a pair of gloves. All while conducting his visual examination.

  “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

  “I’ve got a bit of a headache,” she admitted.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “It’s barely a mild concussion, Cadwyn Octavius Winthrop,” Basheba said, pausing to swallow the accumulating blood. “I’ll be fine with an aspirin.”

  “Octavius?” Jeremiah repeated in a whisper, throwing a look at his sister.

  “It was my grandmother’s idea,” Cadwyn sighed.

  “You think Jeremiah is any better?” Basheba said at the same time.

  While Jeremiah sheepishly retreated behind his sister, Mina lifted her mobile phone high, training the light on Basheba’s mouth.

  “I need you to let me look,” Cadwyn said.

  She settled a little more against the stone and looped her arms around Buck’s neck. “This isn’t going to be pleasant for you.”

  “Let’s focus on you right now.”

  Even Buck’s growl didn’t disturb his serene, encouraging smile. He was born for this, Basheba thought with a small swell of pride. A natural caregiver. He’s as rare as a unicorn.

  “Let me know if you need a break,” Cadwyn said gently.