The Witch Within (9 page)

The forest ground rests beneath the clouds of snowflakes as I observe them falling down onto my palms. How amazingly shaped those snowflakes are! They are like little stars falling from heaven, untameable as they melt on the warmth of my skin. I spot a hedgehog family marching through the clearing and for a while I get caught up in the melancholy of my past, my family, the sense of belonging somewhere. My feeling of loneliness wanes as the lovely creatures disappear into the bushes. It’s refreshing being out here in the cold, although my shoes are not ideal for the weather and get soaking wet during each walk. I nibble on the dried blackberries that I keep in the cape's pocket and enjoy the sour sweetness. I have managed to store up full sacks of dried berries along with different kinds of herbs, mainly dandelions, nettle and other edible plants. So far I have managed to survive out here quite easily, sometimes I feel as if my grandmother never really passed away, but stays with me, guiding my every step. Perhaps it is so, for whenever I touch the part of her skeleton I have been wearing in my cleavage, I can feel her presence, it runs through me like a thunderbolt.

I also keep thinking of Nathaniel these days. I wonder what he has been doing and if he has managed to save his father. I hope he does not hate me, I hope he understands that what I did was an act of pure despair. I know he survived the injury. I returned to the place where I left him and he was gone. Now he is probably back in town, waiting for Christmas. I have lost all sense of time, but the sun is at its lowest these days and so it must be Christmas soon. I wonder what my family thinks of me now that some time has passed. Are they happy I have stayed here and survived? Or has Nathaniel told everyone that I died? If he doesn’t hate me that much, then he probably has. Perhaps he had to blame me for Daniel’s death, just so as not to face the consequences himself. I don't care. I'm already damned in the eyes of the others anyway. Still, I believe that he does not see me that way anymore. Although I have risked his life, I have also saved it. He might assume that it was some kind of a dark magic act that saved him, but I believe that his heart knows the truth.

My deer hasn’t come back since he left me. I wonder if he reunited with his herd. I hope he did, he deserves to be with his family throughout the winter. As soon as the thought leaves my mind, a howl possesses it, and soon after, even more howls vibrate through the air. I get caught up in the flashing images of a wolf pack speeding down the mountains, driven by hunger, driven by rage. I can’t be killed, not now, seeing as I have finally pulled myself together. I'm not going to be a victim any longer! The survival in me manages to lift my feet off the ground and I speed toward the cave. I pile up stones by the entrance and leave only a few small cracks to allow fresh air inside. I calm down once I sit on the stone bed. It almost feels as if my grandmother’s arms have embraced me through the borders of time. I have got to keep it dark in the cave tonight, though I shall keep a candle by my bed, just in case.

*

Someone’s hand takes out one of the piled up stones and peeks inside. I awake and light the candle to see…

Nathaniel!

I gasp for air. He is worried, unsure whether or not he is allowed to enter. He comes in peace, I'm certain of it, because his eyes blaze as they meet with mine. I want to let him inside and so I walk over to the stone wall and am about to take another stone away, when I notice that his face has changed. Changed into Daniel’s! I move away, aghast. He is about to get through to me, but as soon as he uncovers the entrance, some invisible force stops him. He attempts to enter, but can’t. He is confused, trying it over and over again with even more force, yet the latent power bounces him off each time. I calm down and realise that I'm smiling without willing to. It's me grinning at him this time. I'm the victor and he is just a desperate human worm unable to dig himself into the ground and protect himself from the wild beasts outside. The devious grin has been exchanged for a weary frown. His lips resemble the moon, turned downwards, watching over us poor sinners. His eyes meet with mine and beg for help.

He now seems to resemble a little boy again, like the time I saw him dead. He resembles a child who has lost his path and longs to get back to his home town. My heart surprises me, for it suddenly does not feel hatred and disgust for this man, there is just pity and compassion left. I catch myself wishing I could help him, and in fact, I'm aware that if I helped him, I would also help myself. I could free myself from him once and for all and he could go home. Maybe he only seeks forgiveness. His eyes keep begging for help and then…

I awake and instantly check the entrance. It hasn’t been destroyed, I’m safe. It must have been another of those real dreams of mine. Although, the candle is burning and I'm certain that I had fallen asleep in the dark. How odd. I have stopped being able to tell whether I'm dreaming or awake. My dreams have become reality these days. Howls disturb the owl’s midnight song. They are coming!

I clumsily press a stone against the candle to snuff it out. My heart starts beating very fast; it reverberates all the way to my throat, my ears, my eyes. The beasts of the night are descending, emaciated, frenzied in their immense need for blood and flesh and bones. My childhood memory vivifies and I can see the horrid vision of the boy being eaten alive. And then, just like thunderbolts, the long gone images of my brother dying overwhelm my mind. The mortal injury, the pain, the piercing cry, the anguish in his face as he locked his eyes with mine. How cruel nature can be, I cry to myself inside. Why does it have to be so cruel? If God created it, then he must be the cruellest creator of all.

I can hear them getting closer and quickly grab the dagger that I found under the bed a few days ago. I slowly move toward my stone wall of protection and peer through one of the cracks. Nothing. I see nothing but moonlight reflecting in the snow. It makes it seem almost blue. I remain cautious. My eyes travel back and forth, completely recovered from my light sleep. The rustling in the bushes makes me alert. I comprehend now why I have stopped breathing for a while; I wanted to hear it better. Menace is in the air, I can feel it coming. I clench the dagger in my palm, ready to fight if I must. Roars break the tense silence and then two wolves’ crash into the snow right in front of me. I instinctively move away but then I observe that they are fighting each other.

It looks awful as they roll around, their teeth glistening in the moonlight each time they try to bite. Their bodies dance in a ceaseless motion of twists and turns. They fall and rise back up again and again. I stare at the horrid scene, hoping they won’t accidentally crash into my fragile wall of stones and reveal me in my pure helplessness.

Painful cry. The fighting stops. One of the wolves jumps away, leaving the other curled up in the snow. The aggressor seems almost human to me when he turns back to his enemy, or perhaps a long time fellow, with empathy. Then he disappears into the bushes and leaves the other wolf behind. I focus on the crying beast. He is rather small, it seems, it must be a puppy. He groans, struggling to stand up, but he can’t. I start to feel sorry for him and actually wish I could help him somehow, but my gut instinct tells me that it would be foolish. He is my enemy, the monster from my wildest nightmares. His kin is the cause of all my misery.

And so I retreat deeper into the cave so that he does not catch my scent.

*

I have had a restless night. I was trying to sleep, but kept waking with a vision of the wolf cutting his teeth into my flesh. Each time I check on him through the crack in my stone entrance, I just see him lying there, dusted lightly with snow. Nonetheless, he must have been moving toward the cave in the night, since he seems to be closer to me now.

As the sunrise reveals traces of frozen blood that distorts the brilliant whiteness of the snow, I calm down a bit, because it makes me realise that he must have suffered a big bite and thus should be dead. However, to be completely sure, I take one of the longest branches that I keep inside the cave and reach it out to poke him. He tosses his head at me and menacingly reveals his sharp teeth. I put the stick down and back off. He calms down again, dozing off into unconsciousness. I hope that he will finally die, for my sake, but also for his, because then he will be relieved of the pain. I move back and rest my back on the cave wall, ready to fall into another light sleep, when a paw knocks down one of the stones.

The wolf’s mouth gets inside and the fragile wall begins to tumble down, creating a pile of fallen rocks between me and him.

I freeze in shock as he rests his head on top of the fallen stones. He looks straight at me. His eyes silently beg for help. Suddenly, I see no monster. I see a creature clinging to me like a child would for someone’s care. I'm both terrified and confused as I lay my eyes on that deep bite on his back. Then I remember – if a wolf stares right at you, it can’t be anything other than a threat. I clumsily reach for the dagger, ready to ease his suffering if I must. But then he lets out another painful howl and closes his eyes, drifting off. I can’t bring myself to kill him. An illogical empathy infuses my heart and allows the fear to vanish for a while. I hastily search for oak leaves and some dried clover, ready to take care of his wound. I'm being completely foolish, I'm aware of that, but something far beyond myself takes over me.

I unwrap the ribbon from my tangled hair, grasp his mouth between my palms and tie it as tightly as I can. Surprisingly, he does not fight back. He must be unconscious again and he remains so with each subsequent move I make.

*

I can’t tell how long I have been watching the unconscious young wolf, which now has a generous amount of dry moss on top of the thick paste of oak and clover leafs covering his wound. I dip my finger in his blood and draw six-pointed stars on his head along with the moon and the sun. This time the drawing is deliberate, although I'm not really aware of why I’m doing it, or whether or not it helps at all. I notice how cute his puppy face looks and catch myself feeling warm in my heart. Involuntarily, I send a stream of love to him. I must be going mad. How silly of me that I keep feeling sorry for my enemies. I must have lost my survival instinct.

This young beast will surely not be grateful to me when he awakes. He will most probably just feast on me. And what will happen if his pack returns? How would I escape them now if he blocked the entrance to my only safety zone? Well, there is one more place to hide in...

I turn my head toward the hole that I have been dreading to explore – the secret tunnel which hides another monster in the dark.

*

I awake alert. It surprises me how quickly I have gotten used to the fear and the wolf’s companionship. I come back to my senses rather quickly, but then – his eyes open and lock with mine. He looks surprisingly cautious now and clearly confused. It’s time to enter the dark tunnel, I decide, and still facing him, I slowly move toward the hole. I'm about to get a candle, but then his paw stretches and starts groping around, exploring the nearest vicinity. That makes me panic.

I quickly dive into the hole and face the darkness. As I'm crawling, I lower my head, dreading to meet the big black spider. I hope it will just run over me and take no interest in travelling with me in my hair or, God forbid, underneath my clothes. I try to focus on something that could elevate my spirit. Grandmother. The dream I had. She was brave, she entered this tunnel. But God knows what she found here. Just a dull void? Death?

I desperately cling to some brighter thought, though it seems like there are none left. And so I start humming a song that I like; the chirpy rhythm which used to make me want to dance and jump. Even now it manages to make my limbs move faster. But soon it gets harder to move forward and I notice that I have actually been climbing up.

The stones beneath me become more slippery with each and every movement and I struggle to keep crawling. After a while I spot a light ahead of me.

I try hard to not slide back down, until I finally manage to crawl all the way to the end of the tunnel. I fall out, followed by crumbling pieces of granite rocks and mud. I bruise my knees and hands, but fortunately face safe ground. As soon as I catch my breath I lose it again over the splendour! I have reached another level of the cave.

It’s a round-like chamber with a stone well in the middle. There is a small entrance as well, but I don't bother to check where it leads yet, because I behold the painted walls around and above me. With the help of the dim light coming from outside I detect the symbols and letters of the ancient alphabet, similar to the ones I have found in the cave below. My head starts spinning as I quietly marvel over the beauty.

I also observe that there are many unlit candles on the ground and variously shaped and coloured stones. Most of them are stones that I have never seen before and among them are pieces of bones and teeth. I pick a few of the teeth up and find out that some of them are carved with symbols identical to the ones above. I must have found a secret temple belonging to my ancestors! As I ponder it, I hear my grandmother’s voice in my mind, saying:

“As above, so below

Learn the alphabet and behold

As you think, so you act

As you dream, so you live.”

I find two pieces of quartz stone next to the tallest candle and light it. I warm my hands over the flame and wrap myself in my grandmother’s old woollen cape then move to the entrance and peek outside. Murky skies look back at me, frowning mysteriously. I must be somewhere in the middle of the rock, because I can see the wall of blackberries which separates the cave from the forest beyond.

I spot the blood traces of the wolf puppy in the snow and bend forward slightly to check on the entrance to the level below. The wolf is still there, resting his head on the pile of stones. Poor thing. He seems so small from up here. I suppose it would be wisest if I wait for him to leave and only then climb back down. I can go without food for a few days and there is enough snow outside to ease my thirst. And so I return to my newly found haven and seek comfort in the heritage of my ancestors.