Meanwhile, Siouxsie was exploring the rear of the temple, the lyythium tip of her broom leading her like a divining rod. She waved it this way and that ahead of her as she walked. It was only by watching the tips of her frizzing hair raise or lower that she followed a path through the back rooms.

  “Can you really detect anything?” asked Morell, keeping his mace at the ready.

  “Something.” Siouxsie said, watching the ends of her long hair as she waved the broom in new directions. “This way.” The two headed down a lonely corridor. Tall blocks of upended cut stone as big as either of them lined intermittently lined the way. Stone was weathered here. Lack of upkeep and exposure to the elements made it dirty and grimy. Once, twice, three times the pair paced all the way to the end of the hallway and back.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure, but something is definitely here.”

  “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Me either. I think what we need is a third opinion.”

  “Like Robert?” he asked.

  “No, we’ll just ask Batthew.” She said, handing him her broom and opening her cloak to reach inside.

  “What’s a Batthew?”

  “It’s not a what, it’s a who.” Her hand kept digging in the recesses of the black leather. “Ah. There he is.” She dropped the hand holding the cloak to cup it with the other around a small fluffy white bat she produced from underneath. “Morell, say hello to Batthew!” the bat squeaked and flapped its tiny wings.

  “You named your bat ‘Batthew’?”

  “Batthew is his proper name but we always just call them all ‘bats’. Haven’t you always wondered why ‘bats’ were their nicknames?”

  “I didn’t know ‘bat’ was short for something.” Morell said with a confused expression.

  “Then you’ve got a lot to learn about bats I’m afraid. Isn’t he the cutest? He’s an albino, which is very rare. Species of white bats do exist but they’re very, very hard to find.” The bat squeaked again, wiggling its tall ears.

  “How did you know which bat you were reaching for? You picked him without looking.” he asked

  “There’s a very simple answer to that question.” She said, flipping the bat over to show the bat’s feet. “I have plenty of other bats; there’s Echo, Lux, Laz, Batthew, Blot, Wink, Spooky, Gravely, Hazel, Ash, and Binkle, but Batthew only has one toe on his left foot. He’s the only one who’s feet are different from the others. All I have to do is run my finger across all the toes of the bats hanging on the belt within my cloak and I can find him by touch alone.”

  “That’s too strange.” Morell commented

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  “Not as strange as one might think.” She said. “I think you have a lot to learn about bats. Here’s a free lesson. Bats are very keen hunters. They use high pitched squeaks to ‘see’ everything around them in the dark using the echoes of the squaks.”

  “How can you know that?” he asked.

  “How do you know so much about mushrooms?” she asked

  “Well, because I study them day and night and they’re all around me.”

  “Then the same must be same for me, eh? Watch this.” Siouxsie said with a wink before nuzzling the little white bats’ tummy with her nose. “Batthew, please help me find the entrance I can’t see. Do this for me and there’s a fresh berry in it for you.” She lowered her cupped hands and gave the bat a soft toss into the air. Batthew then flew all the way to the end of the corridor and back, flying past their heads, squeaking all the way. When he returned, he circled around her head three times before flying over to land on one of the tall blocks of upended stone. “Ha!” she pointed. “Found it!” The pair walked over to the stone and Siouxsie collected Batthew, rubbing her nose on its belly once more before feeding it a small red berry from a pouch. The bat nibbled and gobbled the fruit as it hung from her finger before she placed him back inside her cloak. “Thank you, Batthew.” She whispered into her clothes. Siouxsie and Morell each peeked around the back of the stone block to find that it was concealing an opening just slightly smaller than the tall stone hiding it. Siouxsie put her shoulder against the block and tried to nudge it out of the way but it was no use. The block was far too heavy. “Can you move it?” she asked. Morell stepped in and like her, found the stone to be immovable. “I guess we’ll have to call the others to come help us move it.”

  “Perhaps not.” Said Morell. “Stand aside.” She did and Morell leaned at the waist. He pulled the mace in his hand across his chest before giving it a hearty swing at the base of the column. The stone responded, by not only making a loud “WHUNK” noise, but by shifting completely away from the hole.

  “You are too handy with that mace, Morell.” She said.

  “I suppose it works.” He replied. Siouxsie stooped low enough to duck her head and peer into the black tunnel.

  “I can’t see anything.” She said, handing over her broom and crawling in a little further. “Here, hold this. There’s a breeze, which means this passage goes somewhere. Hello?.... hello… hello…hello.”

  “It sounds deep judging by that echo.” Morell added.

  “It does.” She agreed, climbing in a little further. “I bet if there’s more to these tunnels if there..Ahhhhh!” Siouxsie shrieked as she fell forward and tumbled downward into the darkness of a steep slope. One moment she was there, the next she was sliding her way into a dark abyss. Not knowing what to do, Morell panicked on his tip-toes.

  “Help!” He shouted as loud as he could, “Help! hoxley! ignatius! help me!” The witches arrives seconds later with those on foot close behind.

  “What is it?” What’s happened?” Ignatius asked.

  “Where is my sister?” Robert growled. “What are you doing with her broom?” Morell quickly handed it over.

  “She-she went down there.” He continued to quake at the knees. “She climbed in and fell down below…I think.” Ignatius pushed past him and stuck his head in the tunnel.

  “Siouxsie?!” he called out. “Can you hear me…me…me?” The voice that returned was faint but didn’t sound anxious.

  “I’m okay-kay!” She shouted back through the echoes. “I fell down a slide! But it’s dark in here-here. and I can’t see anything-thing!” Hearing that she wasn’t injured, Ignatius relaxed a little before slapping Robert between the shoulder blades.

  “Get down there with her broom and use your fire to guide her out.” He told him.

  “Done.” Said Robert, kneeling down and pitching himself headfirst into the hole. Everyone watched as his cloak and winklepickers vanish, skidding down the slope and out of view.

  “Does she fall into a lot of holes?” asked Loxo.

  Meanwhile, in the depths below, Robert came slipping and sliding down the same sluice until he came to the same abrupt stop at the bottom. The rancid smell of dust, must and mold were in everything.

  “Oof.” He grunted, getting to his feet. “Tinder and cinder.” The shadows parted as a pair of fireballs appeared in his upturned palm. Siouxsie stood next to him and he thrust her broom into her hands. “You forgot this.” He said.

  “It wasn’t on purpose.” she replied. “I got taken by surprise.”

  “You’re lucky I was nearby to help.” Robert held his broom in the crook of his arm and held one palm over the burning one so that the fire and light doubled in size. “Speaking of surprise, look at this place. Who puts a chamber this far below ground?”

  “People who lived long ago.” She said before looking confused. The ground beneath her feet crunched in the must unusual manner like nut shells and dry twigs. “What is this? What am I standing in?” The size of the burning plumes doubled again and Siouxsie gasped in fright. Bones. They were standing in the bones of countless people. Horrified, Siouxsie started taking rapid panicked breaths.

  “Bones, I’m standing in witch bones! I’m standing in witch bones! I’m standing in witch bones! Robert, make it stop! Make it stop!” She started to hyperventilate and she frantically flapped her hands at the wrists. “Robert! Make it stop, get me out of the witch bones! Get me out of the witch bones!”

  “Okay, okay!” he said, looking around for a vacant spot. “Here, hold this.” He lifted her hat, snatched Pumpkin the gel, put the hat back and had pumpkin envelop the fireball like they’d done before. The orange glow made things a little less frightening. Once she was holding the glowing gel, he turned around and she jumped on his back where he carried her to the edge of the stone chamber where a raised bit of the stone wasn’t covered in remains. Lit by their small fires, the totality and greater horrors of the chamber came into view.