The Witch Cave

by Sara Clancy

  She nodded once, snuggled Buck a little closer, and opened her mouth as wide as her aching jaw allowed. Cadwyn sucked in a sharp breath and flicked his gaze to the side. When Mina and Jeremiah closed in to trail their lights on Basheba’s mouth, he rallied enough to look at the damage.

  “How’s your leg?” Mangled by the welling blood and motionless jaw, Basheba’s question became a series of gargled bubbles.

  “What was that?” Mina asked.

  “The cut’s clean and shallow.”

  “You’re cut?” Mina asked, the question ignored in the wake of her brother’s question.

  “You understood her?”

  “I’m a psychiatric nurse, Jerry,” Cadwyn replied with a distracted smile. “I’m fluent in all kinds of gibberish.”

  A gentle touch swiped over a tender spot, making Basheba jump. She gagged on the blood that had pooled in the back of her throat until Cadwyn’s fingers retreated, letting her sputter and swallow. During this process, he kept his attention riveted on his medical kit.

  “You’re going to need a few stitches.”

  “So we need to get to the dentist,” Jeremiah huffed. “Like I said before.”

  Basheba craned her neck to catch Mina’s eyes. “Can I hit him?”

  “I’d take it as a favor if you don’t.”

  “You owe me,” Basheba grumbled.

  “Cadwyn,” Mina said. “You said something about your leg?”

  He handed Basheba a water bottle and instructed her to wash her mouth out before answering. “Basheba’s such a drama queen. If I had had time to change out of my biker pants it would have been a lot worse.”

  Slightly offended, Basheba sloshed the water around her mouth a little too forcefully. Pain exploded along her nerves.

  “Careful,” Cadwyn soothed. “I know. It’s the worst part of getting your teeth ripped out. Hurts more than the initial pull.”

  “That doesn’t seem accurate,” Jeremiah said.

  Cadwyn didn’t look at the teen as he readied a syringe.

  “Adrenaline takes the edge off during the main event.”

  Checking for the siblings’ reactions, Basheba saw Mina throwing a lot of wide-eyed looks at her brother.

  Jeremiah spoke like he had forgotten Cadwyn was in earshot. “The stories about the demon are true? But he has his teeth.”

  “They’re fake,” Cadwyn said, and Mina cringed. “I’m lucky that I was too young for my wisdom teeth to have fallen. They now get to act as anchors for my plates.”

  “If he loses another one, his dentist is going to give him full dentures,” Basheba said, adding quickly to ease the tension in Cadwyn’s shoulders. “It’ll make it a lot harder to argue that I wasn’t manipulated into marrying a cradle robber.”

  “I think everyone knows by this point that I’m simply an enabler.” He checked the syringe for air bubbles and continued before she could counter. “I want to give you something for the pain.”

  “I can’t be groggy.”

  “It’s a local. There’ll be no mental effects, but you might drool a bit.”

  She nodded her consent, and he began to explain each step of the process. The drug of choice that she couldn’t pronounce, the possible side effects, how he calculated the dosage for her weight. At first, Basheba brushed it off as him offering up another lesson. But there was something different about it this time. An undercurrent of anxiety that Basheba didn’t like. Then it hit her, he doesn’t trust himself anymore. Whatever Katrina had done had cut deep. Three hours, she decided. She’d give him three hours to handle the emotional baggage himself before interfering. For now, she settled back as Cadwyn leaned into her personal space.

  “This won’t hurt,” he promised. “Just let me know if you need a break.”

  Without conscious thought, she looped her arm under his to keep it out of the way, before folding it back to rest her hand on his shoulder blade. His muscles twitched under her splayed fingers, offering a small early warning for the majority of his movements. It was soothing. But there was no way to suppress the slight flinch that came with the needle entering her ravaged gum.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered as Buck whimpered in concern.

  A swift slide of steel, a little pressure, and it was over.

  “It’ll take a few minutes to kick in,” Cadwyn said. “Bite down on this.”

  He put a small wad of cotton into her mouth, forcing her to speak through her clenched teeth.

  “You’re really good at that.”

  “I’ve had a lot of practice,” Cadwyn said.

  Jeremiah’s brow furrowed, “They do a lot of medication that way at your work?”

  Mina jabbed her elbow into his ribs and hissed under her breath. “His brother.”

  Realization seemed to dawn on Jeremiah as he colored red. At least he has the decency to look embarrassed, Basheba thought. The kind thought died as, in true Crane fashion, he couldn’t leave it well enough alone.

  “What did you inject him with?”

  Mina, while looking mortified, still closed ranks with her brother, casting worried glances in Basheba’s direction. Like I’m in any position to attack, she thought, idly rubbing at Buck’s scruff. Although Buck could put a swift end to this awkwardness.

  “Tales of demonic possession always mention a physical toll,” Cadwyn said, threading his curved needle and collecting the tweezers that he would use to manipulate the metal through her gums. “But they always neglect to express just how agonizing the process is. Most of Abraham’s care was pain management. I did what I had to.”

  The drug spread swiftly, and the conversation was pushed aside for the work to be done. Basheba tried to relax. It was a hard task now that she couldn’t see the water’s edge. Laying there, she strained to hear even the softest shift of water. She fanned her fingers out across his back, squeezing slightly. It always surprised her how soft the leather was. Shame Buck ruined it.

  “Are you sure your leg’s all right?” Basheba asked to occupy the time.

  “We can’t understand you,” Jeremiah said.

  “Cadwyn can,” Basheba argued around the working fingers and metal.

  Jeremiah’s brow furrowed, “What?”

  “She’s asking about my leg,” Cadwyn replied, clearly distracted. “It’s fine. You keep that thing as sharp as a scalpel.”

  Basheba had the strangest urge to preen at the unintended compliment.

  “Stay still,” Cadwyn said with a small smile.

  Mina lowered her voice to whisper to Cadwyn, “You remember what she uses that thing for, right? Are you sure you shouldn’t be more worried about infection?”

  I knew she wouldn’t let go, Basheba thought. With Cadwyn so close, it was hard to let her thoughts roam where they should. Self-preservation was a natural instinct. One Basheba listened to regardless of anything else. Mina, however, leaned more toward the righteous moralizer side of things. We’re going to clash again eventually. It’s best to be prepared for it. Cadwyn paused and leveled her with a disapproving scowl. She squeezed his back to signal for a break. Is it possible for someone to be psychic?

  Basheba rolled to the side and spat out the clustered blood. It seemed that Cadwyn’s natural talent for reading body language only sharpened with prolonged contact. Their honeymoon-holiday had given him enough time to learn her habits. To worm his way deeper into her head. Which he must have known was a stupid idea. And now we both have to suffer. Because she could read him, too. And the expression he wore now was his ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ face. Passive-aggressive jerk, she thought as she let him finish off the final stitches.

  “Better than being aggressive-aggressive,” Cadwyn whispered.

  How! With a slight chuckle and a final pull, he cut the thread. She could feel the moment when the flood of blood stopped and flicked her tongue curiously over the stitches.

  “Don’t play with them,” Cadwyn said as he pulled off his gloves.

  Mina crouched beside him, ca
reful to keep her voice soft. “We really should have a look at your leg now.”

  There was a certain degree of stiffness in his movements as he flopped down next to Basheba and stretched out his long legs.

  “Guys!” Ozzie’s breathless cry and a small landslide of stones announced his return long before he swooped around the hanging ledge and into sight.

  Basheba’s stomach dropped at the sight of him. Something’s wrong. Buck felt it, too, and was up in an instant, growling furiously at the shadows chasing Ozzie. Lurching to their feet, Cadwyn and Basheba shuffled back toward the Crane siblings. The minimal light from their phones glistened off of the handguns the coming mob clutched. It was a tight squeeze for Whitney, the new leader of the Witch’s cult, but she shuffled through. Like a living flood, large bodies filled every possible exit, trapping them on the small patch of stones between the cave wall and the water.

  Whitney’s painted lips pulled back to show her pristine teeth. “I promised we’d meet again.”

  “You know I come here every year, right?” Basheba noted, struggling to properly work her half-numb jaw. It must have been clear enough because she got to relish the way the woman’s face went splotchy with rage. “I see you’ve upgraded from pitchforks and torches. Doesn’t have quite the same aesthetic, does it?”

  “But it’s far more effective when dealing with you.” A wiry figure slipped up behind Whitney, the light catching his wire-rim glasses.

  “Uncle,” Basheba said tensely.

  Isaac’s grin stretched his face as he loosely gestured to the darkened depths of the cave. “Start walking.”

  Chapter 9

  Mina grabbed Jeremiah’s wrist, subtly tugging his hand behind her back, obscuring the cult’s view of the music box he was still clutching in a death grip. Of the numerous cautionary tales she had been told over the years, none of them had ever mentioned a use for the box beyond its intended purpose. But they had a demon with them last time. It opened up too many possibilities that she couldn’t stomach to contemplate. If they can work with a demon, we can’t put another one in their possession. Jeremiah glanced to her in confusion before inching a little nearer to her side.

  Moving slowly, Cadwyn lifted his hand and motioned Ozzie closer with a rapid flick of his fingers. The teen cast one frantic look over his shoulder before all but running the short distance to Cadwyn’s side. A few of the high-perched cult members shuffled as if they were going to stop him. Basheba was quick to draw everyone’s attention back to herself.

  “You have to be kidding me,” she laughed. “We’re really doing this? A death march? Are you guys new to murder or something?”

  Isaac’s face scrunched up with barely contained rage. “Shut your mouth, or I will sew it shut.”

  “Hey, I’m trying to be helpful here,” Basheba shot back with mock offense. “You guys didn’t exactly do too well last time. Anyone recall that?”

  Fear and anger simmered through the group in equal measures. Holding her breath, Mina hoped that Basheba would find a way out of this. The blonde had a particular knack for violent creativity that Mina lacked. Panic welled in her chest as she watched Basheba cast a look at Cadwyn, a slight arch of the eyebrow that, to her, clearly asked if he had any ideas.

  Mina might not have been able to read his expression, but the body language was enough. He had worked Ozzie into the minimal space between himself and his wife. It was a protective stance that had Mina tightening her grip on Jeremiah’s wrist.

  “Walk!” Whitney’s scream rolled off of the walls and made Mina flinch.

  “To where, you cockalorum?” Basheba shot back. “We need a direction!”

  Whitney bared her teeth as the hand holding the gun began to shake. “What did you call me?”

  Basheba waved a hand about airily. “Cockalorum. A boastful or self-important person.”

  “You stole my word-of-the-day calendar?” Cadwyn accused.

  “Who brings that on a road trip?”

  Mina’s shoulders tensed painfully as she carefully watched the mob. Some looked caught off guard, slightly flustered, but none looked ready to break free of the group. Goading people into making a mistake was Basheba’s favorite defensive tactic. On occasion, Mina had seen her use her innocent, almost childlike appearance to lure people in. But she shone when it came to nurturing blind rage. Anger had worked on these people before. That’s the problem, Mina realized.

  Whitney had been there to witness the deadly fallout. I’ll bet it’s how she got to be the leader to begin with. Mina struggled to keep the memories of that night from her mind. Bile burned her throat as the phantom scents of burning flesh and blood pricked her nose.

  They know how dangerous Basheba is. They’re not going to get lured in again. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Whitney lifted a handgun, training the sight between Basheba’s eyes. Cadwyn slipped between the two.

  “Do you think I won’t shoot you?” Whitney laughed.

  “There’s no reason to keep up the performance for us,” Isaac said. At Whitney’s glance, he continued. “They’ve entered into a sham marriage.”

  “She’s not a Bell anymore?” Whitney asked.

  Isaac scowled, “She’ll always be a Bell.”

  “But she’s not under your control anymore,” Whitney pressed.

  Smelling blood in the water, Basheba cut in with a bitter laugh, “Are you still trying to sell them on the idea that I give a damn about you?”

  “I recall you threatening him before,” Whitney said. “Yet here he stands—unharmed.”

  “Ha!” Basheba reached across Ozzie to playfully shove Cadwyn’s shoulder.

  “What is she doing?” Jeremiah whispered.

  Mina shushed him, hurriedly checking that they hadn’t drawn any attention. Basheba’s gloating had kept their focus.

  Cadwyn growled. “Fine. Yes. You win.”

  “Told you I would,” Basheba taunted.

  Out of the corner of her eyes, Mina noticed the confused, frightened looks Jeremiah cast her way. Don’t say anything, please, be quiet. A relieved, silent sigh slipped from her as her brother heard her mental plea and kept his mouth shut. Isaac, however, didn’t have the same capacity to refrain from taking the bait. Disgust curled his lips as he snarled.

  “What are you two blathering about?”

  “She bet me that, one day, I’d regret not letting her kill you,” Cadwyn said, his voice devoid of all emotion. “I thought it would take more time to lose that one.”

  “Well,” Isaac smirked. “It is a shame that she didn’t, isn’t?”

  “There’s still time,” Cadwyn replied, the calmness in his voice chilling.

  “Enough of this,” Whitney snarled. “All of you, turn around and start up that path.”

  “Can’t you just kill us here? I’m already bored,” Basheba grumbled.

  “I’ve been struck with a whim to see you die in a particular location.” Whitney’s carefully painted lips curled into a sickening smile. “And today, you live and die at my whims.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Despite her dismissive tone, Basheba’s gaze was sharp as she took in the armed people surrounding them.

  Her fingers twitched as they drifted slowly toward the hunting knife tucked into the back of her jeans. Buck braced his front legs and lowered his head, coiled tight as he waited for his master to give the order. Menacing growls filled the tense silence, forcing new floods of adrenaline to course through Mina’s veins.

  Unable to work any of it out of her body, Mina could only twitch and pant, desperately searching her hazed mind for a solution. There has to be something I can do! Frantically glancing around didn’t offer her much hope. Outnumbered by the cult, and at a lower position, there were only two directions open to them. The narrow pathway Whitney had ordered them down, or the water.

  “Now!” Whitney’s shout cracked over them like thunder.

  Basheba rolled her eyes, her seeking hand pausing when Cadwyn shot her a look. Keeping one hand
on Ozzie’s shoulder, he held Basheba’s gaze and nodded slowly. Mina studied the barely-there motion carefully but couldn't decipher its meaning. He's encouraging her to obey, she decided before changing her mind. He's agreed to follow whatever she does. Either way, they turned around, keeping Ozzie positioned between them. Buck reluctantly followed, pressing close to Basheba’s thigh.

  In the gloom, Mina caught Basheba’s gaze flick down to Jeremiah’s hands. The siblings took the hint and made sure the box was carefully hidden from sight as they progressed toward the path. The glow of a dozen flashlights trailed along with them as they made their way over the shifting stones.

  “Can we know where we’re going?” Basheba asked.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Isaac replied.

  The pathway curved up along the wall to delve far beyond the reach of daylight. As they trudged along, it soon became clear that this wasn’t an area frequented by tourists. Narrow and brittle, the ledge chipped away under their feet to topple into the abyss.

  At first, Mina used the sound to gauge how high they were climbing. But she soon lost track of the soft tumble over the rising rush of churning water. There was something off about the sound. Something almost hollow. The darkness became an almost physical shroud upon their shoulders, cold and encompassing, broken only by the thin trails of flashlight beams. Occasionally, Mina angled her mobile around, trying to make the light glisten off of the guns surrounding them. They weren’t shy about displaying them since there wasn’t anything she could do even knowing how many of them were armed. It just felt like something she should do.

  A small gasp escaped her when she took a step and only found air. Jeremiah grabbed her shoulder, yanking her back, her shoulder thumping into the wall. Stones scattered, but their sound was soon lost under the gushing water.

  “Single file,” Whitney ordered. “We don’t want you dying too early.”

  The roaring water grew louder. They were forced through a cut in the rock and the ground suddenly evened out. As they all gathered, the combined glow fought back the shadows, allowing Mina her first proper look at her surroundings.