Bewitched

by Mark Jay Harris

  Mike grabbed some flashlights from the glove compartment and hurried after her. “Don’t we want to go in through the Rec Center?”

  “No need,” she explained as they came up on the south doors. “The Rec Center is closed anyway.”

  Serena showed up with Andrea in tow. “So, where’re we goin’?”

  “Right here,” Samantha replied. She faced the door as she incanted, “Abs cataracta” and wiggled her nose. This was immediately followed by a metallic click from the doorknob. She looked about, then shrugged. “In for a penny, in for a pound. Expositus.” And the door opened out toward them.

  The four students stepped in, finding themselves in a dark hallway. They figured there were no witches inside the school, so they made their way directly to the gym without incident. Performing the same spell on the new gym door, Samantha motioned for Mike to lead the way. The coach’s door was locked this time, but Samantha had them in almost immediately.

  “Okay, Mike,” Samantha said, “you’re up.”

  Mike moved the coach’s chair and mat to reveal the trapdoor beneath. Keeping one of the flashlights he’d grabbed from the Jeep, he handed the other one to Serena.

  They dropped into the underground tunnel, and Mike led the way to the earthen ramp.

  “This is the place?” Samantha looked at the sloping earth where Mike had his flashlight trained.

  “Yeah, watch.” He set the flashlight at the base of the ramp’s upward slope. He let go, and immediately the flashlight rolled to the top of ramp, spinning shadows crazily as it coasted to a stop.

  “Something is under there, all right,” Serena agreed.

  Mike grabbed the flashlight and handed it to Andrea. She shined the light down on the earth-covered ramp as Mike began clearing the dirt away. At first, he pulled the dirt downward toward the ground, but it floated back up into place. He looked at the girls who just shrugged. He glowered at the dirt and started pushing it toward the top of the ramp; sure enough, gravity whisked it from his hands, sending it upward into a huge gravity-defying pile.

  Once cleared of earth, it revealed a set of wooden doors like those found to the side of homes with outside cellar entrances. Mike stood and glanced over at Samantha.

  She smiled timidly. “I wish Crissy were here to tell us what to expect.”

  Mike nodded. “Oh, well, here goes.” He placed his fingers into the worn notches in each door panel and pulled them open. They were stiff at first, but soon gave way in squeaking revolt, revealing a black hole that led down deep into the earth. A strong musty odor rose up from the opening—not a healthy, earthy smell, but one that was rank with decay. Mike backed away, waving his hand to clear the air. He turned to Samantha. “Okay, Alice, this is your party.”

  “Mike, you know my name’s Samantha. Why did you call me Alice?”

  “You know for such a smart person, your education has got some serious holes in it. If we come out of this alive, remind me to introduce you to Lewis Carroll.”

  “Is he someone important?”

  Mike laughed and pointed to the opening before them as if to say: After you.

  Samantha wrinkled her nose. “Please, be my guest.”

  Nodding, Mike took the flashlight back from Andrea, shining it down into the abyss. A set of old wooden stairs covered in dust and cobwebs extended down into darkness as far as the glow of light could reach. He played the light further down, but all he saw were more stairs, flanked by rock walls. He placed his foot over the edge and tried the first step. It held his weight so he started down. Samantha followed him with Andrea right behind her and Serena bringing up the rear.

  They descended slowly at first, sliding their hands along the side walls for balance in the darkness. Nothing could be heard other than their breathing and the creaking of the dangerous stairway. Samantha left her senses open to any magic being performed. The powerful spells that were at work below already had the hairs on the back of her neck on end.

  The darkness pressed against them as they descended further into the unknown. The air seemed to pull at them, sucking them downward. At last, the stone walls tapered off until they disappeared, and the group found themselves at the bottom. The stairs let off into a small open room, about twelve by twelve with a low ceiling, maybe six feet in height; Mike had to stoop. The floor was dirt, and the walls were stone and mortar.

  Mike flashed his light around. “Dead end?”

  “I hope not,” Samantha replied. “Let’s look around, see what we can find.”

  They combed the room, looking for loose rocks, hidden levers, or chinks in the wall that would indicate a doorway. They found no such device or oddity. Andrea, inspecting the wall directly across from the stairway, suddenly shrieked and fell to the ground. The others rushed to her. Her leg had sunk into the dirt adjacent to the wall. “My foot, it’s stuck. Help me!”

  They extracted her leg to find a hole that had been loosely filled in with dirt. They scooped the earth out, revealing a small tunnel that went beneath the wall and came up on the other side. A glow from beyond glimmered up through the hole.

  Once the dirt was removed, there was plenty of room to slip underneath. One by one, they shimmied through the hole and came up on the other side. Brushing themselves off, they found they were in the middle of a long stone corridor that went off in both directions. It was lit by torches burning in sconces about every ten feet. Samantha and Serena examined the closest one.

  “Witches’ fire,” Serena told the other two. “It burns until the spell is removed.”

  “We’re definitely in Moloch’s Cavern.” Samantha turned to her familiar. “Do you sense anything?”

  Serena shook her head.

  “We’re still invisible to people right?” Mike asked.

  “Yes,” Samantha replied. “But don’t forget what happened to Serena. We can’t count on it hiding us from everyone. Something or someone down here saw her.”

  She glanced in the two directions the corridor led. “We want to find Darren and get him out safely. That is our primary mission. Mike, you and Serena head in that direction. Andrea, you and I will go this way. Serena and I can be in contact at any time, so if you run into trouble, let me know.”

  Mike and Andrea shared an unsure look with each other, but gamely set off with their respective witch down into the bowels of the cavern in search of Darren, a Grimoire, and more than likely danger.

  ***

  The last few hours for Darren had been spent surviving a hurricane of whirling emotions. Each one had flown at him and struck with harsh, excruciating thoughts that left him crying like a child lost in the dark. Now, he felt raw, spent, and exhausted as he lay sobbing on the cold hard stone.

  The worst had been the dark storm of self-pity that had engulfed him first. It had been heart-wrenching losing Ethan to death a second time. When he’d believed Ethan was alive, he’d been so happy he never considered it was a deceit. He should have known better and entertained doubts, not because it was too good to be true, but because of recent experiences with witches. He should have known better. Why hadn’t he been suspicious of his brother turning up alive after all this time? What an idiot he had been! Tears streamed down the side of his face. He lay there in the gloomy stone room, crying out to God for an explanation. Why had He allowed these demons to torture him like this? Why? Why had they been allowed to stretch his heart to the tearing point?

  Self-pity had pelted him ruthlessly for a long time, but, fortunately, it had given way to the hot fierce winds of anger. Those vile creatures from hell! They’d pay for what they’d done! Once he learned how to kill witches with fire, he would melt them to blackened heaps. He’d blast them all, and once they were on fire, he’d strike them again and again until even their ashes were blasted from existence. They’d pay for their cruelty in causing his brother to die a second time. He’d see that they paid and in full. Soon his tears morphed into screams of rage. He battered his chained hands against the stone slab until they were bruised and sw
ollen. He found a strange comfort in his aching hands. They were a physical sign of his determination to follow through with his plan of vengeance.

  After these calming winds of anger, an icy spear of guilt froze them out. It stabbed at him with the realization that the warlock’s plan to draw in Samantha would probably work. She would somehow find where they had hidden him, in Moloch’s cavern he’d figured. She and Serena would come to rescue him, and no doubt Mike would be with them. Oh, yeah, Mike. He’d be leading the charge. But what could he do against witches and warlocks? Did he have a plan? No, he was just going to come charging down here thinking his Taekwondo could fight off magic spells, that big-hearted dope. And the warlocks would catch them just like they had him. They’d all be killed. And Darren would be responsible for their deaths. There was nothing he could do to prevent it. He didn’t know how to use fire, and he couldn’t free himself to warn his friends or fight with them. He pulled at the chains in frustration. Let me free!

  The vortex of emotions started over again. Then anger blew in and heated him up in time for the ice of guilt to bring him around full circle. And so it went, until he lay in the semi-darkness with tears of frustration drying on his cheeks.

  A scraping metallic sound at the door broke the storm of emotions. He looked over where the torch beyond the door cast a pool of light. The person who entered the room should have surprised him, but then again, it also seemed appropriate somehow.

  Julander squeezed into the room hefting his bulk from side to side as he waddled toward him. His flabby, red face glowered down on Darren. He had a sour expression as if he’d bitten into something that wasn’t yet ripe. Perched on top of his bald sweaty head were dark goggles. And at the vice-principal’s feet a scroungy looking dog growled deep in its throat.

  “Stevens.” He sounded like he was giving words to the dog’s throaty snarl. “It was just a matter of time. We should have gotten rid of you months ago. But I suppose you’re serving your purpose.”

  He hauled off and smacked Darren hard across the face. Stars filled Darren’s vision, and a ringing in his left ear accompanied a horrendous stinging numbness that spread down his cheek. For a moment, he couldn’t see out of that eye and blinked it furiously.

  “Don’t ask,” Julander drawled. “I just like to do it. Sometimes using a fist is so much more satisfying than the most torturous spell. Don’t look so surprised. I’m sure you suspected I was a warlock. But first, on to business. Your friends sent someone down here a short time ago, but she retreated like the imps of hell were on her tail, which isn’t too far from the truth. She never returned, and it’s the only way in. So, did your friends give up on you?” He stared at Darren for a moment, grimaced, and went on. “I don’t think so. What’s going on?” He marched across the cell. “Do they know something we don’t? Is there another way in?”

  Darren glared at the demonic assistant principal. His left eye watered, and blood ran from his mouth and dripped down the side of his face.

  “There’s an easy way, and there’s an entertaining way of getting this information from you.” Julander’s fist came down hard against the other side of Darren’s face. This time the stars were fireworks exploding everywhere, and Darren’s jaw ached as if it had been dislocated. He was determined not to cry out, but a grunt escaped him. His heart hammered, and he was breathing in quick harsh successions that he feared sounded like sobbing.

  “How are they getting in, Stevens?”

  Darren didn’t reply; he just glared at Julander. He liked the idea that Julander believed he was holding back information, but the truth of the matter was he had no idea how to answer the sadistic warlock’s question. How was he supposed to know how they were getting in? He didn’t know how he, himself, had gotten in.

  Julander walked to a far corner of the cell and picked up a large, rough stone. He moved it from hand to hand. “Four-thousand years ago, you know what was here?”

  Darren remained mute.

  “I’ll tell you. Nothing. Nothing but scrub, grasses, sage, and wild berries. Bears, wolves, and buffalo roamed this valley alone for thousands of years. When Moloch came, there were no men; no civilization had walked this land. Finally, the Olmecs arrived from across the ocean. By the time they discovered this valley, the Grimoire had been buried for over eight-hundred years. They destroyed themselves but were eventually replaced by the Mayans, who at least had one group make it this far north. When they found this valley, the Grimoire had been stored down in this cavern for over twelve hundred years. Over the next fifteen centuries, many different tribes moved in and out. Only, a couple of hundred years ago, the Shoshone hunted in this region, eventually killing off all the buffalo. Nevertheless, they failed to notice anything strange here. They were too busy fighting the Utes in the neighboring valley.

  “All those millennia, centuries, and years passed away, and no one stumbled across the cavern. The Grimoire molded down here, waiting. Waiting for the right person to come along and snatch it up.”

  “And that right person would be you?” Darren glared at the man and the rock in his hand.

  “Not just me. The Northern Coven. You wouldn’t understand, but there is fierce loyalty within a coven. The Northern Coven was driven out from the Central Coven only three hundred years ago. The betrayal was unspeakable and we bonded together, swearing vengeance on those who banished us.”

  Julander said nothing. He glared into space, either reliving the past or seeing a glorious future. Darren wasn’t sure. “Where did you go?”

  Julander looked back at Darren and continued as if he’d never stopped. “We moved north into Canada. It was there our leader, Bhantu, received a prophecy from a demon who, of all things, gave him a spell and tied it into the prophecy of Ghohol, which told of this Valley of Hidden Skins as the location of Moloch’s Grimoire. Of course like everyone else, we had no idea where the Valley of Hidden Skins was to be found. Why should we? The events that named the valley hadn’t yet taken place.

  “The trappers moved into this valley and co-existed with the remaining Shoshone for a while, interbred with them. They worked together and killed each other and never dreamed they were sitting on the greatest tome of magic ever written.

  “It was at last the Mormons who moved in here after literally thousands of years, and at last created a city, a civilization. Now, the valley is populated with over 115,000 people—religious people, people who fear God. Can you believe that? The greatest defense against witches is religion. Yes, it’s true. Those who call on God have power they don’t fully realize.” Julander moved slowly across the room, smacking the stone into alternating palms as he went.

  “Smithfield was settled in 1859. In 1961, they broke ground for the foundation of a great high school to serve the people of this quickly growing valley. For over twenty years, it was the only high school in the Cache Valley School District.” He looked down at his hostage. “You have to know this kind of thing when you’re vice-principal.” His lips curled into a sick smile.

  Julander looked carefully at the stone he had picked up and spoke to it. “They dug the foundation deep, right on top of Moloch’s Cavern. But a spell he put in place fooled their equipment. They thought they had built on bedrock.” Looking back at Darren he continued. “We figured out the prophecy in 1962. Somebody put together that ‘cacher’ was French for ‘hide,’ and then come across a book on the founding of this valley, and well...we arrived soon after.

  “I stood out on the front lawn in 1965 and incanted that spell given by the demon and voila! The temple was revealed, and we descended below the earth into Moloch’s Cavern. We were the first people to see it in almost three thousand years.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” Darren didn’t have the stomach for a lesson from Julander right now.

  “Because we are so close!” The fat man’s face purpled as he spat these words. “After eons of time, we are so close, but we don’t have the Grimoire!”

  “It’s hidden?”

&
nbsp; “No! It isn’t hidden. It’s in a chamber not far from here, sitting on a stone post carved to look like a column. The most powerful book in the world is just sitting there. The cover heavily detailed in designs and images of Baal, snakes, dragons, and the patterns of death. The patterns of death—you wouldn’t like those! They’re...” he sought for the right word, “terrifying.”

  “So, why don’t you have the book?” Darren couldn’t help being curious despite his situation and hatred for the man holding a dangerous looking stone.

  Julander got down in Darren’s face. “Because leading up to that column where the book sits are two rings. To get to the book, one must pass through the rings. And no one can get through them. Not that we haven’t tried. But when we attempt passage, we run against an invisible barrier and a voice says, ‘When is three thousand less than a score?’ A riddle! Well, no magic, no spell, no potion got us past those rings. And we had absolutely no idea what the riddle was talking about.”

  Julander looked down on his prisoner and grimaced. “Lore told us that only the Key of Endor could pass through those rings.” He backed off and paced across the room. “But we assumed the Key was hundreds of years old. We didn’t know. We knew of course that Endor had extended her days by use of the Catadromus and that her child had traveled with her through time. But Endor completed her Catadromus in 1595. We’ve been looking for a witch who was four-hundred years old.” He smacked the rock into his other hand with a loud slap. “How were we to know that Endor had called up a demon who told her she would be destroyed by the Key? Or that she would use the same spell powder and throw the thirteen-year-old child into the Catadromus for a second time? That she would then give birth to another child, one as evil as herself? One that would protect her, unlike the first one that would turn against her?”

  Another child? The thought made Darren turn toward the villain in surprise. Samantha has a sibling?