8 Gone is the Witch

by Dana E. Donovan

  “Here!” I hollered, taking on another mouthful of water for my efforts.

  The poor bastard was already turning blue; still he had enough cognition about him to know what to do. He took the robe and rode it like a beach ball until the whitewater subsided enough for us to float downstream like driftwood.

  We dragged ourselves up onto a beach and collapsed onto our bellies, aching and exhausted. Ursula lay sprawled to my left, Tony to my right. Carlos washed up another ten feet away, but was still close enough that I could hear him muttering to himself, “This sucks. Man, this really sucks.”

  His head was resting on his now deflated robe, his bare ass smiling up at the dark sky. I leaned up on my elbow. “Carlos, what happened to your underwear?”

  “The rapids tore them off.”

  “Okay. Are you going to put your robe back on?”

  “Yes.”

  I waited a few seconds. “When?”

  “When you and Ursula turn your heads, so that I can go back into the water and rinse the sand out of my crack.”

  For the record, we did turn our heads. It’s not our fault he didn’t specify for how long.

  Chapter Eight

  After collecting our breaths, we headed out again in search of the Dark Forest. We didn’t know if we were heading in the right direction, but the gradual increase in plant growth suggested we were. At times, the vegetation grew so thick that Carlos had to lead us single file, slashing and hacking a path through the brush with his bolo.

  Tony took up position at the end of the line to protect our backs, his bayonet always at the ready. I turned back on several occasions and caught him looking over his shoulder. He did it enough that I began to worry. I slowed my pace and allowed us to fall back from the others.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “You’re a rotten liar, Tony. What’s going on?”

  “I think someone’s following us.”

  I stopped to look. “Did you see something?”

  “Nothing, but it’s more than just a feeling. I keep hearing sounds.”

  “Like what?” We started walking again.

  “That’s just it. I don’t know. Twigs snapping, leaves rustling. I’m thinking of hanging back, maybe let you three get far enough ahead so that I can sneak up from behind whatever it is.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” I took him by the arm and pulled him along. “We stick together. The last thing we need is to split up in this hellhole.” I called up ahead. “Hey, guys! Wait up!”

  We caught up with the others and I told them what Tony told me. Carlos seemed particularly concerned, perhaps fearful it could be the malodytes.

  “What do you think it is?” he asked.

  “Probably nothing.”

  I knew Tony meant to keep Ursula from worrying, but it worked better on Carlos.

  “Yeah? You think it’s just the wind or something?”

  “Sure,” he said convincingly. Okay, so maybe Tony isn’t such a rotten liar. “I’m sure that’s it. Just the wind. Now let’s move on.”

  We continued through alternating patches of thick and thin cover for what seemed like hours. I was just about to suggest we stop and rest, when our path abruptly spilled us out onto a small perch overlooking a great divide.

  We gathered on the rocky ground beneath a cluster of broad-leaf trees and gazed out over the expanse. A blanket of fog on the other side concealed the geographical disposition of the terrain there, but for the treetops, which stood as tall as skyscrapers above the fog, we knew we had found the edge of the Dark Forest.

  I looked down into the gorge. Along the bottom, ran another river of boiling rapids, flanked by jagged walls of granite too impossibly high to scale.

  Carlos picked up a rock and pitched it over the edge. It tumbled in silent freefall before fading into a churning mist of whitewater below.

  “Now what?” he asked. “Down is definitely not an option.”

  Tony, renewing concerns of what may or may not have followed us, looked back over his shoulder. “Going back isn’t a good idea, either.”

  I looked to my left where the narrow, rocky ledge along the gorge seemed unfit for travel even for a puma. “I’ve gotten myself in some precarious situations before,” I said, “but going that way is just downright dangerous.”

  “Guess that leaves––”

  “Look!” cried Ursula, pointing in the only direction left to consider. “What line doth stretch 'twixt there and there? Be that a bridge, pray tell, or doth my eyes deceive?”

  “A bridge?”

  “Aye, through what fog breaks yonder.”

  “I don’t see anything,” said Carlos.

  “No, wait, she’s right,” I said. “I see something. I think it is a bridge.”

  Tony pushed past Carlos in a charge for the lead. “Come on. It ain’t getting any closer just standing here.”

  We followed Tony along the rocky ledge. With each step, one of us would inevitably dislodge a chunk of ground, a small boulder or ill-rooted shrub and send it tumbling into the angry waters below. How we all made it through that perilous stretch of geological landmines remains a mystery to me still.

  At the end of the trail, we discovered that the curious line Ursula saw shrouded in the fog was, indeed, a bridge, though it was a lot further away than any of us imagined. It took us an hour to reach it, or maybe it was a day. It’s hard to say. Spatial reference and time perception had already begun to bleed into vague portraits of suppositions and abstract reckoning.

  From a distance, the bridge appeared massive, especially considering its proximity to our previous location. Yet, as we stood at the foot of the structure, we could see that it was little more than a simple rope bridge, spanning the gorge with thin wooden sleepers like so many railroad ties.

  “This can’t be it,” said Carlos, raking his fingers through his thick chin stubble. He looked both ways along the length of the gorge. “Did we miss it or something?”

  “We didn’t miss it,” I said. “I assure you.”

  Tony said, “What do you think? Do we cross?”

  I inspected the anchor points where large metal pins hammered into the rock held the main guide ropes firmly in place. The sleepers, or cross braces, seemed as solid as any I could hope for. I squinted tightly and peered across the divide. The bridge diminished in the distance to a single vanishing point before disappearing in the fog completely.

  “Do we have a choice?” I answered.

  He eased me aside. “Okay, I’ll go first. Wait until I’m about fifty yards out. If the bridge doesn’t go down, then you follow.” He turned to Ursula. “Same thing. Give her fifty yards and then start across. Carlos, another fifty and you go. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “All right then. Here goes.”

  I thought I knew what to expect. The bridge appeared sturdy enough. The ropes were thick like mooring lines, and the sleepers, as I mentioned, were solid, closely spaced and free of rot. Sure, the span might have been longer than I would have liked, the height a little dizzying; but in all, no big deal. Then again, we were in the Eighth Sphere where every deal is a flippin` big deal.

  Tony placed his hands on the upper guide ropes, took a deep breath and set his right foot on the first sleeper.

  “Whoa! What the...”

  I know. He can be so articulate sometimes.

  He fell into my arms and we both staggered back, our gaze locked in disbelief at the sight before us.

  I don’t know how, but in that instant, the entire span had stretched immeasurably. The once taunt ropes now hung like taffy, dripping into the gorge beyond the rising mist.

  “Did you see that?” Tony was still holding his hand over his heart. “The damn thing fell in!”

  “No,” said Carlos. “Not completely.” He pointed across the gorge. “I think I can see the other side. It looks like it’s still attached over there.”

  We all peered down at
the near vertical pitch the bridge had assumed. “It’s nothing more than a rope ladder now,” I said. “But we can still go down this side and up the other.”

  “Uh-uh,” Tony argued. “The sleepers are spaced too closely together. You can’t get your foot between them. You’ll slip and fall and...” He craned his neck over the edge to gauge the height of the drop. “And we can’t afford to lose you.”

  “How sweet,” I said, patting him on the cheek. “It’s nice to know I have some value in this expedition. Let me know when I’m no longer an asset to you.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “You know when the time comes; I have a good mind to just leave you here. That’ll serve you right.”

  “Come on, Lilith. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “That’s all right. You don’t have to explain.”

  “Guys!” said Carlos, and the tone of his voice surprised me enough to shut me up. “Quit the bullshit. We need to figure out what we’re going to do here.”

  “Look!” cried Ursula. She grabbed my arm and shook it. “Methinks the bridge, it doth return.”

  “She’s right,” said Tony. “It’s shrinking up.”

  Remarkably, as we stood in witness, the stretched ropes began shrinking, pulling the bridge up and returning it to its former position. In the span of just a few seconds, it was again a formidable structure, bridging the divide between the two great cliffs.

  “Unbelievable.” Carlos shook his head at the phenomenon. “If I didn’t see it with my own eyes...” he trailed off, leaving the rest of us to finish his thought.

  Tony turned to me, his brow curiously hooked. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “I think we should cross.”

  “What if it does it again?”

  “What if it doesn’t?”

  Carlos said, “Maybe it’s like Old Faithfull. Maybe it does that every so often.”

  “He has a point,” said Tony. “Old Faithful blows like every hour.”

  “Yes, but maybe the bridge ain’t so faithful.” I peered out over the edge again. “What if it drops into the gorge whenever she damn well pleases and at no particular intervals?”

  “Well, we can’t go back.”

  “We go forward,” said Ursula. She nudged her way around Carlos and Tony and positioned herself at the foot of the bridge. “What hath thee if not worry, but to pass and worry not?”

  “Ursula, wait!” I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. “Let me go first. This could be dangerous.”

  “Aye, and what then? Will danger cease upon thy crossing, that I may follow in haste and fear naught?”

  “No, I’m not saying that. It’s just that you don’t know what’s on the other side.”

  “Oh, and thou doth know?”

  “No.”

  “Then I shall go. What better loss we risk than one what hath no value?”

  “You have value.”

  “Name thee my worth.”

  “Your logic, for one.”

  “Logic? Methinks not, sister. Thou hath thrice the logic in thy baby finger than that which I possess.”

  “Is that right? What about the whisper box? We needed a vessel and you thought of using the shell.”

  “`Twas a thought is all. Thou wouldst have thought it too, in time.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t. And wasn’t it you who thought to have me turn the shell upside down and shake it when the spell wouldn’t come out?”

  “Aye.”

  “And you had the foresight to have me take some of those pellets from the merchants.”

  “`Twas only natural.”

  “Sure, and I suppose it was only natural back at the bar when you figured out we needed to tear the poster off the wall to reveal the window. Every time we turn around, Ursula, you have the best ideas. So how can you say you have no worth?”

  “Well...”

  I watched her gaze fall away in silent contemplation. I had always known her to be quiet and reserved, but never void of self-esteem. I put my arm around her and pulled her in close. She leaned her head on my shoulder. I could feel her breath teasing my hair, her staggered sigh skipping across the front of my neck. When she spoke again, her words gave life to tears she could no longer hide.

  “What matter is it that I should live a second life and make no difference? Hath thee and thy magick given me half what thou art, so that I may squander it all for naught? I beg thee, sister, have no thought for me. I am what thou hath made me and no more. I seek no truths but what I know already. And the lies... Oh but how they dwell inside me.”

  She placed her hand over her heart and gave it a thump. “Sleep not ye wicked soul, disguise thyself as thou wilt, lest I see thee for what thou art. Doth thee profess to show pity and then laugh that it be found? Nay, I fear. Fool me not ye foul cheat. `Tis still me I see when in the mirror I do look. `Tis me and my worthy thane, yet he knows not of my lonely, wretched heart.”

  “Ursula.” I took her hand in mine. “Where is this coming from? Why are you so down on yourself?”

  She rocked her head back and rolled her eyes up at me. “I am nothing if not a failure,” she said, her words hushed in whisper. “Be it so true that I shall hide no more this loathsome shame. Thou hath only but to look and ye shall know the truth. What seed I have doth lie within me dormant evermore.”

  “Ursula, is that what this is about?”

  Tony put his hand on my other shoulder. “Lilith, what is she talking about?”

  I ignored him. “Urs, listen to me. You can’t think like that. What happened was not your fault. That’s nature. Having a baby is a complicated thing for witches and mortals alike.”

  “Baby?” said Tony.

  I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and ushered Ursula aside. We took a seat on a rock a dozen or so yards from the bridge. She was crying now, softly, but enough that I know the boys could still hear her.

  “Ursula.” I held her hand and stroked her arm gently. “I can’t begin to imagine what it was like for you to lose your baby. I know how much you and Dominic were looking forward to starting a family together.

  “But you have to know it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t let him down. You didn’t let yourself down. Bad things happen. We don’t pretend to know why. We can only accept the things we cannot change and then move on, hope to get another chance. And you will have another chance, I know it.”

  “What then, pray tell?” she shook her head faintly. “Will I lose another and break my lover’s heart again? Thrice? Mayhaps a fourth before he leaves me for one who wilt not fail him.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have that answer. But you’re young and healthy. Dominic’s healthy. You got pregnant on your wedding night, so I know his boys can swim.”

  “Aye, but they swim for naught, for he lies alone at night and not with me.”

  “Oh, Urs.” I palmed the side of her head and pressed it to my shoulder. “He’s still hurting. Give him time. When you and he are ready, you’ll try again.”

  “Try for trying sake doth not a baby make.”

  “Yes, but not trying won’t get you a baby either.”

  “Aye, and shall I not return to my Dominic. Mayhaps he shall meet another and know the joys of that which I cannot deliver.”

  “Is that why you wanted to come with us? You thought maybe you wouldn’t return?”

  “I worry not for me but thee. If thou wert lost and I alone with my man, what good be thy shallow legacy then?”

  “Stop that! That’s crazy. I’m going back and so are you. I’ll get you back safely to Dominic, and then you two are going to make up and fuck like bunnies. You’ll see then how special you are. Before you know it, you’ll have a house full of little witches running around, so many it’ll make your head spin.”

  “But my head doth spin now.” She pulled away enough to let the cool wind chill my skin where her tears had fallen. “It s
pins so much, methinks, I shall never know a day what hath no sorrow.”

  “I don’t mean that kind of spin. I mean the good kind, the kind that makes you glad you’re alive, the kind you knew on your wedding night. Do you remember that?”

  “Aye, but of course! `Twas the happiest day in all my life.”

  “Yes, and it’ll be the second happiest when you have your first child. I want to be there to see the look on your face when that happens. But you have to let it happen. If you let it, then it will.”

  “Art thou sure.”

  “Yes. I’m sure. So, what do you say? We good, kiddo?”

  “Aye, but we have always been good.”

  “All right then. Let’s get our asses across that bridge, find Leona and get our butts home again.”

  “So we shall.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about. Okay, come on.”

  We picked up and walked back, my arm around Ursula’s shoulder, hers around mine. Tony met us half way. He looked more worried than I’d have given him credit for, but then he is an old softy when women’s tears are involved.

  “Hey there.” He employed his subdued, sweet-talking voice, the one he uses on me when he wants to apologize, which by the way, isn’t nearly often enough. “Is everything all right now?”

  “Everything’s fine.” I dismissed his concerns with a flip of my bangs. We pushed past him and met up with Carlos. “So, what do you think, cowboy? You got this thing figured out yet or what?”

  He blinked at me as though I had just asked him to spell ventriloquist backwards. “No. We were waiting on you.”

  “Why?”

  He looked at Tony, and then back at me. “I don’t know. Thought you’d want us to wait.”

  “Forget it.” I approached the bridge. “We’re crossing this fucker now.”

  I took hold of the hand ropes and placed one foot on the first sleeper. Incredibly, if not coincidentally, the damn thing fell into the gorge again like one long, drooping piece of salt-water taffy.

  The sudden drop of sleepers under my feet caused me to fall forward, and if not for Tony grabbing me by the belt and reeling me back in, I might have... no, I would definitely have gone over the edge.