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Hyienna stared into the deep shadows of the hole, while the hole stared back, taunting him with its inscrutable silence. Turning away, he looked up at the lighthouse bathing in the warm glow of the rising sun.
The tall tower was solidly the same as it had been just a few weeks before, whereas he had changed significantly. It was almost as though the building sensed the subtle shift in his consciousness, its polished windows seeming to squint down at him with an air of disdain and disapproval.
Hyienna hunched his shoulders against the early morning chill and tried not to entertain ideas of being watched from above. He'd thought about what he was going to do and he knew had no rational reason to feel guilty, not that the thinking had eased his conscience one little bit.
The worst crime he could be committing was trespass, and even that wasn't especially clear; all the same he wanted to get it over and done with before the tourists started showing up. Too many awkward questions.
Satisfied that nobody was watching, Hyienna quickly reached into his rucksack and extracted a length of stout rope. He'd found it in a tool shed behind the Green Lizard and he figured nobody would miss it for a few hours. He quickly tied one end around a stack of pallet planks he'd wedged firmly across the mouth of the opening. With half a dozen lengths of wood tied together, Hyienna was pretty confident they could hold his weight. After throwing the rope down into the hole he picked up the other rucksack, trying to ignore the subtle but definite whine that settled somewhere deep in his ears.
Looking back over his own shoulder, Hyienna silently told his mystical burden to take it easy before gingerly leaning out and testing his weight on the makeshift anchoring point. Confident that he wouldn't immediately be cast into the abyss, he tested his construction a little further by sitting on the beams and dangling his feet over the hole. It would have been much safer to acquire a boat and enter the cave by sea, but that might attract too much attention.
Checking his small LED torch was secure in his pocket, he gently lowered himself off his impromptu platform and hung there for a moment, listing for creaking and cracking sounds. Satisfied at last, Hyienna quickly let himself down the rope, hand over hand until he felt the solid floor of the cave beneath his boots.
Within a second, he'd flicked on his torch and cast it around the cool subterranean space. "Hello, hi. I guess I'm back again. The disc of white light passed over the rock walls as he turned a full circle.
It quickly immediately clear that the cave was empty. In fact, not only was the space empty, but it had been emptied. There was no trace of any makeshift furniture or piles of detritus scattered throughout that silent, echoing space. If it wasn't for the odd piece of litter lurking between the cool damp rocks, there would be no reason to think that anybody had ever lingered there. The only other hint of recent habitation was a trace of incense hanging in the damp atmosphere.
Hyienna had no idea where the old woman had gone to, but he was pretty sure she hadn't just upped sticks and moved by herself. There was no way she could have climbed out through the roof with all her worldly possessions, which meant she must have left by boat.
Picking his way towards the sound of the ocean, Hyienna wondered who might have helped the mysterious woman to leave her lonely encampment, or perhaps to escape it.
He followed the wall of the cave around a shallow bend until the floor became little more than a narrow ledge that vanished into the ocean. He started and almost slipped into the water as his torch beam picked out a figure standing in the shadows close to the water. “Hello.”
There was no reply, in fact there was no sign of life at all and it took him a moment to realise why. Cautiously stepping closer, Hyienna shook his head ruefully as he realised, he'd been talking to a painting; a piece of lifelike street art hidden far away from any street. From a distance the painted outline was quite convincing, while on closer inspection it was just plain disturbing.
Hyienna quickly felt for his little rock as he caught himself glancing over his shoulder at the rucksack waiting patiently on his back. Ignoring the whine in his ears, and why the word waiting had suddenly popped into his head, he slowly stepped forward and cast his torch beam over the life-sized image. It didn't take him long to conclude that it wasn't any kind of generic outline, but a very deliberate and accurate depiction of one particular person, the very person he'd expected to see when he’d lowered himself down on that rope.
The silent shadow painted straight on the cave wall was unsettling enough, but the stack of neatly folded clothes at its feet whispered formless tales of dark designs and deeply esoteric ideas.
Hyienna turned a slow circle, casting his lamp over every part of the cave as he tried to shake off the uncomfortable impression of eyes staring at him from the shadows. He could see nothing, but still the feeling persisted.
Shuffling forward, he gingerly looked over the rocky ledge and into the dark swirling water as it rose and fell with the heartbeat of the ocean. This must surely be the place where the old woman had begun the next leg of her mysterious journey, and the treacherous descent only confirmed his suspicion that she couldn't have left the cave without help of one kind or another.
He turned his attention to the pile of shabby clothes, complete with worn sneakers and the old woman’s dog-eared tarot pack carefully placed atop the neatly folded stack. Hyienna had only met the woman once, and under the strangest of circumstances too, but that was enough to tell him that the cave dweller would never have abandoned such a central part of herself, unless she knew she would not be returning.
Crouching beside the ledge, he shone his torch on the dark slippery rocks but could find no sign of blood or scuff marks, in fact there was nothing to suggest that the old woman had departed her subterranean world in a violent manner. That discovery should’ve been a comfort, but it just made him feel all the more uneasy. If she’d really departed of her own free will, then why would she leave her clothes symbolically stacked like that? On the other hand, it seemed unlikely that she’d been coerced in some way as there was no evidence of a struggle. Besides, why would some kidnapper bother to tidy the place up, paint a picture and neatly fold her clothes before departing?
There was still a third option, one that accounted for the old woman telling him she didn't have long left. With her voluntary declaration in mind, Hyienna reckoned it was entirely possible that she'd decided to depart the mortal realm while she still had some semblance of control over her affairs, such as they were.
Once more he stared into the black, fathomless waters that were never warmed by the light of the sun, much like the impossible emptiness in the cheap rucksack on his back. He stood mesmerised and unblinking as the black waters rose and fell, reaching up towards his feet before slumping back and gathering the strength to repeat the cycle. Slowly he slipped the rucksack off one shoulder and then the other, holding it over the dark ocean’s swirling surface. Nobody would ever see him, and nobody would ever know. It would be so easy; just open his fingers, turn on his heel and climb out of the cave. All he had to do was let go of that cheap nylon strap and he would be relieved of a burden and a mission he had never even wanted, let alone understood. Maybe that was why he’d felt the urge to return to the place where it had all started. Perhaps deep down some unconscious part of him knew that the mysterious witch was gone. Perhaps the impossible blanket had called to some quiet and hidden part of him, urging his return to the cave so that it might follow its rightful owner into the peaceful darkness.
But if that was the case, why couldn't he just let go? Hyienna thrust his hand into his other pocket, feeling for his little rock as he felt perspiration between his fingers. He could hear nothing but the rhythmic breathing of the ocean, yet somehow, he understood that the rucksack was imploring...ordering him not to let go. He could hear no words and not even the tinnitus whine that so often accompanied such encounters. No shadows flickered on the walls and no terrifying apparition suddenly materialised close by, yet there could be no doubt that the little nylon rucksack was deadly serious. Although imparted in a manner that defied description, the warning that an abyss far deeper and darker than the cave awaited him if he turned his back on his obligations.
There was also a second warning, it too unformed and wordless, and Hyienna couldn't figure out whether this one emanated from the uncanny burden he carried or from somewhere deep within his own psyche. Somehow, he knew that all the things he'd quit and walked away from in his life had shepherded him towards this moment. Now it was up to him whether to back down or stay the course, but he knew that a wrong decision would mark a turning point in his life. It would be a decision he could never recover from in this world, never mind what might lay beyond.
Reluctantly he slung the rucksack back over his shoulders and wiped his sweating palms on the front of his jeans. He turned to examine the uncomfortably neat pile of threadbare clothes at his feet, suggesting a singular finality to the arrangement that confirmed his fears without revealing direct evidence. The witch was gone, and he was all alone with his burden; no map, no guidance and nobody to advise him as to what to do or where to go next.
Except maybe...
Hyienna squatted to look more closely at the worn deck of cards stacked neatly beside the late cave dweller’s shoes. He kept his hands well clear, as though he were studying some exotic insect or a beautiful but dangerous reptile. Had they been left specifically for him? Was the old woman really smart enough to know that he'd come back? How could he be sure?
He cast his torch slowly over the silent bundle of clothes once more. He wasn't really sure what he was looking for, but he was all out of ideas and so he figured that Providence, or intuition, or something might offer some clue as to where to go or what to do next.
The answer wasn't long in coming and he swallowed hard when the beam of light inexplicably flickered as it passed over the worn tarot deck. Coincidence? No, it couldn't be. That torch was reliable, and it had never dimmed like that before.
Desperately hoping that he wasn't repeating old patterns of self-delusion, Hyienna steeled himself, reached forward and flipped over the top card. He didn't have any clue how to interpret the cards, but he figured he might see something meaningful if he was on the right track.
Hyienna hadn't really known what to expect before he turned the card over, but he was jarred to find himself face to face with the figure of the Fool, about to step right off a mountain top. He didn't know what all the symbolism meant, but the Fool’s bundle tied to a stick and carried over his shoulder was just too much of a coincidence, while he was pretty sure that the small dog at the man’s feet was trying to warn of impending disaster.
He picked up the card and stared at it, feeling as though he was handling something forbidden and yet perhaps essential to helping him navigate whatever might lie ahead, a stolen map of a hitherto uncharted region.
At last he overcame his indecision, threw a mental nod towards the departed cave dweller and picked up the rest of the deck, quickly pushing them into a roomy pocket in his jacket. They fitted perfectly.
His purpose fulfilled, Hyienna took one last look at the bundle of clothes and painted silhouette. Although completely lacking detail, it was still an intricate work that displayed the contours of clothes and the mysterious woman’s unkempt hair. In fact, the more he studied it, the more it resembled a kind of life-sized stencil rather than some artistic interpretation. Curiously, he found it reminded him of the inexplicable blackness he'd been unable to cast into the ocean. He wasn't sure why as the pitch, or paint, or whatever was daubed on the wall reflected the light as it emphasised the contours of the cave, rather than just existing as an uncanny blanket of blackness.
He reached forward to touch the freshly painted shadow, quickly snatching his hand back as his fingertips became damp and sticky. He rubbed his fingers together and gingerly sniffed at the black tar-like substance clinging to his hands. Surprisingly, it didn't actually smell anything like tar, instead exuding a strongly herbal, almost sweet aroma that cut the back of his throat when he breathed in too deeply. Hyienna had no idea what the substance was and he really didn't want to know either. He quickly rubbed his hand against the rock wall, then the leg of his jeans as he tried to remove the stubborn, staining substance from his hand. The strange glutinous paint was both oily and sticky at the same time, making it almost to remove entirely without the aid of soap and water.
Making a mental note to wash his hands as soon as possible, Hyienna swept his torch around the cave one last time before making his way back to the rope. He'd dropped into the underworld with the intention of returning the rucksack to its previous keeper, but instead he was climbing back up with more than he’d brought down. Not only that, while his additional burden was small, it was something central, something intimate to the identity of the woman who’d gifted him the...whatever it was in his rucksack. He guessed it really was his rucksack as there was nobody left to return it to.
Taking a deep breath, Hyienna grasped the rope and began the arduous climb out of the darkness and towards the light.