Flat made his way through the rocky, uneven cave, each step bringing him closer to the light source in the distance. It was a fire, and, incidentally, a bright one at that. He had no idea whose fire it was, but it was a welcome sight to the darkness.
It also gave him hope that perhaps he had found a way out. After all, he did not have any reason to think it was Sam who made the fire- as far as he knew, Sam was still running through the caves above being pursued by the angry cave buffalo. Sam was a fast guy, definitely much faster than Flat; surely he could outrun the creature, provided he did not run into anything. In a cave. In pitch black. Okay, things logically did not seem that good for Sam's odds but Flat cleared such negative thoughts from his mind. He had to consider his own survival. Focus on the light ahead, he reminded himself.
The light, it turned out, was deceptively close. Flat felt like he had been following it for some time but it still remained off in the distance. He soon figured out why that was; the pathway where it shown through, was narrowing. However, as he looked about, he could see a wider opening above him, a ledge up along the wall; it continued in generally straight direction towards the light and was wide enough for him to get through, so long as he was fine with shimmying his way instead of walking.
With how much his rump still stung from his fall, Flat figured shimmying would be a nice alternative. He found a natural pile of rocks that almost formed steps and use them to climb up onto the ledge. There, he was able to lay on his belly and slowly crawl (albeit with some hesitation to make sure there were no spiders or snakes on the path) with much quicker ease towards the fire.
Within about ten minutes he finally was to what appeared to be an opening in the rocks. The light ahead was almost as bright as the outside had been when Flat and Sam had entered the cave, though the flickering made it clear that was only because something was burning and not natural lighting.
Flat paused a moment- once he reached the opening, he would be able to see just where the fire was burning and, perhaps, who it belonged to; but what if it was the prairie witch's fire? Sam had been certain there was no witch, but Flat had not fully made up his mind. Reason said he ought to side with Sam, yet Sheriff Reynold’s conviction to the story he told of the past and the witchy woman seemed sincere. Regardless of what the truth was, he still did not know who the fire belonged to; it could be someone equally threatening, even if no magic was involved.
As Flat paused and pondered whether or not to keep moving forward, the sound of singing suddenly filled the air. It seemed like it was coming from near by the fire ahead, and the voice sounded feminine, almost carefree. Flat could hear the lyrics clear:
Eilleen Allanna, Eilleen Asthore
Light of my soul and its queen evermore,
It seems years have lingered since last we did part,
Eilleen Allanna, the pride of my heart!
Well, whoever was singing apparently knew popular music, as the song was a common staple at some of the music halls Flat had had the fortunate opportunity to visit during his travels in the horse thieving circuit. The singer was no professional, but her voice wasn’t bad either.
It could still be a witch, he reasoned to himself, but a witch who had decent taste in what she chose to listen to. Flat very slowly made his way further up the ledge to where he could just barely peek over and see by the fire.
The overall environment was hardly surprising; it was all stone and a bunch of rocks. The fire was big and in the middle of the area that generally seemed not to be as rough as much of what he had just had to climb through. There were a couple of objects in the room that looked to be bundles of cloth or personal effects that a traveler would quickly throw together when going on a trip. And, of course, there was a woman in the room sitting not far from the burning fire, though her back was to Flat. All he could make of her was that she had very long, flowing black hair that cascaded down her back; it appeared her dress was a blueish-green color and made of a light fabric. Not far to the side of the woman was a periodical; as she sung to herself it appeared she was also reading, and she turned the pages now and then.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Flat sat and watched her for some time. She seemed perfectly content in what she was doing, albeit nothing particularly exciting. More concerning to Flat, though, was just what a woman was doing in the middle of a dark cave reading. Most normal women would choose to do such things outside or in their parlors, not in the heart of cave buffalo colonies. To Flat, this confirmed the sheriff’s account of what had happened to him- the woman had to be the prairie witch and the cave her sanctuary now that she had returned to Fox Den.
But at the same time, she struck him as very different from what he had imagined a witch to be. She apparently passed the time by singing to herself and reading, not unlike any other person might do. Hardly a mysterious or elusive creature, and not particularly scary.
Then, no doubt because the woman assumed herself alone, she let a string of farts that sounded more like steam being released from a hot tea kettle than anything particularly stinky. It caught Flat unawares, but at the same time, continued his train of thought- here was a witch, but she was breaking wind just like anyone normally would. She and he were not so different.
His arm was beginning to fall asleep, so with much caution Flat slowly began to move it. Unfortunately, something about the way he did dispersed a pebble that was on the edge of the opening where Flat peered. Before he could do anything, the pebble had fallen forward, bouncing on the rock floor below. In that open space with the fire the little rock made unexpectedly loud echo. The witch spun around, searching for the noise source.
Now that Flat could see her face, it was obvious the woman had been in an accident. She still had pale skin and ruby red lips, but the right side of her head showed damage akin to severe burns. It had healed over some time ago, but things were still rough-looking and scarred in a way that one could not miss. That the woman had an angry expression now made the wounds look even rougher.
“SHOW YOURSELF!” She screamed in an eerie voice, already to her feet before Flat could blink. She was not tall, but with everything the sheriff had already said before about the prairie witch, Flat was adequately frightened.
“SHOW YOURSELF!” the woman commanded again, lifting her hands above her head and bringing them down quickly. As she did so, the room and surrounding area began to shake. Stones fell about, including some onto Flat that seemed quite heavy. He was going to be buried alive in rubble if she kept that hand-waving up. He either had to accept that as his fate or answer the witch’s request and hope she was being merciful.
“SHOW YOURSELF-“ she cried once more, but this time Flat quickly stuck out his hand to wave from his spot on the ledge.
“S-Sorry! Sorry! It’s me! I’m here,” he said, his voice quivering. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to disturb you! I was…I saw the fire and I…I was lost and…I…I can go now if you just…show me where to go…”
The woman seemed genuinely surprised to see him. She stood quietly watching as he spoke and did not cause another shaking spell. At the same time, however, she did not respond to his request for how to exit.
“I…I won’t be a bother,” Flat nervously continued, “just…just point where I need to go…I’ll be on my way…please…again, sorry to disturb…”
The woman’s stare seemed to burn into him, but it was not a stare that made him feel uneasy. More just the look of someone trying to make sense of what she saw.
Finally, she walked over to below the ledge, not to far out of reach from where Flat peered over.
“Give me your hand,” she said, “I’ll help you down.”
“No,” Flat quickly protested, “I’m fine, I can get down on my own-“
“I said give me your hand,” the woman commanded in a much more forthcoming tone.
Afraid to do anything but that, Flat obediently stuck out his hand to her.