Paradise Lots 10 Into the Cave
The dark of the soul
Lurleen slid off the broad back of the elk when they reached a hidden spot deep in the woods. She had no idea where they were or what could help hide them.
High on a ridge, steep slopes to each side, she could not see any evidence of human habitation. The woods had long shadows as the sun slipped behind the ridge.
She stood still, shivering from exhaustion and fright.
The Man of the Woods shifted from elk into his humanoid form. He lifted a blind covered with leaves that opened a doorway into a cave. “Come. You will be safe here, even if the coyotes find us.”
She went inside while the Man of the Woods removed the traces of their passage. The cave was dark, even with the door open, getting little light from under the trees.
When he closed the blind, it was completely dark, cold sucking the heat from her body. She hadn’t brought a coat, hadn’t brought anything except herself.
Had she exchanged one monster for another?
The Man of the Woods spoke a word, and a light appeared beyond a turn in the cave. He walked ahead of Lurleen, holding her hand to guide her.
The light moved ahead of them, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness, but always just around another edge.
After many twists and turns, some uphill and some down, they came to a larger space, nearly as big as a stadium. A stream trickled down the middle of it.
On one side, a small living area hewn from the rock held a hearth, a rug, chairs, and a table. A platform for two beds stood across the space, with folded blankets. A bolt hole or maybe just minimal quarters.
They crossed the stream and walked up to the room.
“You knew I would come with you?” Lurleen crossed her arms and frowned.
“I hoped.” He poked up the fire, and hung a kettle over it. “I had to be ready in any case.” He pointed to a chair. “Sit. I will make tea, and we will make our plan.”
The small area was warmer than the rest of the cave, but Lurleen was cold. She wrapped one of the blankets around her.
The Man of the Woods set a kerosene lamp on the table to brighten the space.
She could see a rudimentary kitchen with a space for food prep, a cistern for water, and some stored root vegetables. She supposed that The Man foraged as a deer most of the time, but he seemed competent with making tea.
He brought a teapot and two mugs to the table.
The smell of the tea was soothing, not the usual black tea but some kind of herb. She added honey from a jar on the table, then cupped the mug in her hand. “What kind of power do I have? What can I learn to do?”
“Hold out your arm,” he said. He inspected he arm, gently running his fingers over the old track marks and fading bruises. He nodded. “You used sometime last week. Dean beat you Sunday night.” It was not a question.
She pulled her arm away, wrapping the blanket over it. “Yes.” She looked away as she sipped the tea.
“Dean’s pack heals quickly, at least when they are shifted, yes?” He held his mug, savoring the scent. “Did it not occur to you that you heal as quickly as they do, despite not shifting?”
“You think I’m a were, too?”
“No, in fact, I think your power is that you have not shifted, that you are not a lycanthrope. Your heroin tracks look weeks old, your bruises nearly healed.” He leaned back and considered. “In fact, you may be their healer. Despite your thoughts of his love, I think Dean wants you to keep them going despite their adventures and drug use.”
“I don’t do any kind of healing. I don’t even tend to them...well, Dean sometimes.”
“You have been bitten and scratched by him, yes?”
“Yes. I don’t know why I didn’t shift.” Lurleen pulled her feet up into the chair, and rearranged the blanket. “Maybe it takes more than one time. I thought I would shift this full moon.”
“But you have not.” He put another piece of wood on the fire. “You have sex, feed him, tend to his wounds, sleep with him.”
She nodded.
“He keeps you around to take your life force, your energy.”
She set the mug down and pulled the blanket tighter around her. “You mean I’m just his vitamin C and chicken soup?”
“I think you are fueling the entire gang, and they won’t let you go, especially now with the moon waning. You are feeling the need for heroin, even now.”
“You don’t have any, do you?” She stared at him, her face white.
“No, nor do I have anything that will curb the desire.” He stood and offered her his hand. “However, I can help you heal yourself through your own pain.”
She cowered on the chair, turning her face away.
“I said that I needed your permission. That is not quite true." He moved closer to her. "You have to do the healing. I cannot do it for you. Are you ready to learn to use your power?”
Lurleen pulled the blanket closer. She hurt, her heart broken, her body bruised, her mind Was she ready for whatever ancient woo-woo ritual he want? Could she take any more?
He’d been her playmate when she was a child. Nobody believed her stories of the friendly deer that ran with her in the woods, who showed her wild berries and apple trees from long deserted farms. Her grandfather.
She could not go back to Dean. He’d kill her for running away. What other choice did she have?
She stared at The Man of the Woods. “What will you do if I say no?”
“I will be disappointed, but I’ll let you stay here until you are better healed.” He gave her a long look. “You are not a child to be entertained.”
She glanced around at the small living space. She would not be able to stay here long, too cold, too dark, and she already knew she wasn’t a shifter. Might as well.
“All right. Teach me. Show me. What do I have to do?”
“Let’s begin,” said The Man of the Woods. “Take off your shoes and socks.”
Lurleen did as she was told, then tucked her feet under her. She clutched the blanket tight around her.
“Come with me to the stream. Leave the blanket here.”
The rock floor was so cold she lost the feeling in her feet, nearly losing her balance as they became numb.
The water flowed across the smooth rock as the Man of the Woods crossed it. “This will not be pleasant, but it is a quick way. Step on the rock.”
The water stung her feet and chilled her body.
“Hold my hands,” he said, holding his hands out to her as he braced himself across from her.
She had to stop hugging herself and reach out to him.
“If you were healthy, I would have you lie down.” He grasped her hands. “Push the cold from your mind. Think warm thoughts. Fire. Sunshine. Hearth.”
Lurleen shook her head, shivering so much she could not speak.
“Dean and his pack will be here tonight.” He would not let her pull away. “You must believe in your power to avoid him.”
“I d-d-don’t h-h-have p-p-power.” Her teeth chattered so hard she could barely speak.
“You do. You are afraid of it.” He squeezed the bones of her hand, grinding them together in his hard, calloused fingers.
“Ouch! Stop!” Lurleen tried to pull away, but the rock was slippery. As she fell into the icy water, he still gripped her hands. Trying to pull away, she could not keep her balance. She gasped for air, struggling to stand. “Let me go.”
He pulled her up to her feet. “No.”
Dripping wet, hurting all over, her hand crushed in his grip, Lurleen felt an explosion of rage in her belly. Like electricity, it flowed through her spine to her brain. Every cell in her body was on fire.
She stopped pulling away and pushed. Through the pain and the rage, she pushed the big man, stepping to his side of the creek, backing him up a step.
She still hurt. Her feet still slipped on the rocks beside the stream. Trying to stomp the man’s instep, she missed. She rammed her head toward his solar plexus, gritting her teeth. She tried to kick his knee.
He held her off, his long arms defeating her every move until she sagged to her knees.
“I told you I don’t have any power.” She hung by her arms, limp on the ground.
“I disagree,” he said. He set her on her feet by letting go of her hands. “Are you still cold?”
Lurleen stared at him, her face red, her fingers outstretched as if to claw him. She looked at herself.
She wasn’t cold. Not even wet.
She panted hard, gasping out the words. “You did this. You used your power.”
“No, I didn’t." He walked back to the living area and filled the kettle. "Shall we have more tea?”
She stood by the stream, staring at him. She put her hand in the water. It was still ice cold. As she stood, her ribs didn’t hurt. She marched up to the table. “What did you put in that tea?”
“Nettle, echinacea, lemon balm, and rose hips.” He spooned the mixture into the teapot. “Good for the immune system, not magical.”
She put her socks and shoes on. The cave floor was rough, even if it didn’t feel cold now. “Tell me what happened.”
“You tell me.” He brought a mason jar of dried fruit and nuts and poured them into a bowl. “Eat something with your tea. You need nourishment.”
She realized she was starving. She grabbed a handful of dried fruit. Not sweet like store-bought fruit. The dried apples and peaches were tangy and tough. Just as they had been when she was a child. She gnawed at them, crunching the black walnut meats.
When the tea was ready, she added honey and sipped. She settled down, relaxing from the anger, pondering what she had done.
“I got so angry,” she said. “I felt like I was on fire.”
“Yes, it took much pain to unleash the power.” He drank tea and ate some fruit. “You must do it without rage.”
“How? They will be here tonight by moonrise.” Lurleen thought of how Dean had treated her, and the heat in her gut blazed. “That may not be a problem.”