Sea Spell

Chapter Twelve

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She froze in her tracks like a deer in the headlights at it's menacing sneer and leering height. Muscles tightened as her mind stuttered, refusing to think, to vaporize a plan.
Move!
Dodging nimbly to her right, she thudded against the rock wall and barely missed it's outstretched claws. Lana pushed off with her fingertips and corkscrewed into the larger opening of the cave, arching her neck towards the light filtering through the cave mouth. It had an eclipse-like effect on the deadbeat seaweed, etching around the edges of black strands and leaving them darkened. The water drenched heat brought relief, gently stirring at her skin.
Now outside, she could see in her peripheral vision a continuing tunnel that wrapped around into the unknown, poking at her with questions. It could easily be a dead end, but chasing the distance to the original cave mouth would cost her her limited freedom. She could only win in short bursts of speed, not in the long run.
Turning sharply into the tunnel, she pumped her tail, accelerating gradually until she sported a knowing grin on her face, air-pressuring bubbles socketing at her chest. For Lanakila Maurs was a strange being, with strange ambitions and a taste for the supernatural. She was not the type to stay steadfast in one place, bound to the ground by sturdy roots. She was not a tree, but a roaring river uncontainable as fate itself. And rivers, she decided, were never-ending in their complex cycles.
Flinching instinctively every few seconds, she missed crashing her scull at turns by a hairline as the chase continued. Swooshing funnels popped in her ears, till they felt droopy and weighted. Arriving into an oval room, she took coverage behind a corner and flattened herself against the wall, searching frantically for an exit. Instead of a regular opposite wall, series of symbols much like the lavender ones she'd seen previously decorated the walls. They peaked outwards, giving the impression of buttons with their glowing exteriors.
Slamming the tabs almost spastically, she tried but one combination before The Widower came plummeting around the corner.
Clacking it's trident-split tongue, it rose to the ceilings and over shadowed her, so harshly watching that she turned her cheek. Lanakila cowered slowly to buy herself time, fumbling her arms blindly behind her as she padded in another combination.

"Bad choice-ies! Finally, take the bones from you... Take bones... Bones..."

Desperately chewing her lip, she spoke hurriedly to create even the slightest opportune moment.

"Actually," she gushed worriedly as she tried to lock eye contact with it, "I'd rather that not happen."
Smiling over-the-top like a terrified Cheshire Cat, Lana attempted to throw sneaky glances behind her shoulder at the wall tabs. They were non-reactive, coldly facing back at her.
The Widower quickly caught onto her motives, lunging for her...
Hissing, gear-churning noises sounded as the wall symbols blended and tore apart, rearranging themselves. The blocks rotated on their axels, smoothing together, while their dark purple hues deepened into a black, slanted pattern. The symbols rippled and danced across the surface like lapping ocean waves, until the entire wall was pristinely bare from all but one imperfection:

You must see the unseen.

The whole caves were silent for a breathless moment, until the wall split straight in half, pieces of rocks cascading downwards in a slow-motioned avalanche. A powerful current began to suck Lanakila outwards towards the now visible sea, yanking her tail-first between the enclosing wall.

Razor bladed nails dug into her armpit, drawing blood as her body was reeled like a fish by The Widower, spun onto her side so that she might slip between the narrowing crack and be re-captured. The puzzling wall was now returning to it's original state, the tablets with luminous symbols reforming and the two sections rejoining at a rapid pace. Jangling her wrist back and forth, she searched for the opportunity to snatch it away and escape, but she wasn't anywhere near strong enough, her arms limp like branches in the wind.

It was too late, for when she could finally pull back, a sickening crackle and the creaking thud, the flourishing of sand as the wall became one and her hand became two.
She wrapped her surviving hand around her left wrist, using it as a lever to lean backwards and yank her fingers from the closed wall. Lana noticed that they were mangled, deformed and pounded from tons of rock colliding, looking like the aftermath of a hurricane... like Guadeloupe itself right now. The bottoms, near her knuckles, had been salvaged, whereas the tips were a literal finger painting of blobs and misshapen figures.

Lanakila allowed herself to slope briefly against the cave exterior, calming her weighted chest as she took in her surroundings. Habitually patting at her side for the leather satchel, she grasped only empty water. It must be laying abandoned inside the cell, all of her photos of Anadia and her mother left to decay. There was even a cork-capped jar tucked hastily into her folded inside pocket, a medicine she had borrowed from her grandmother about five days ago. It definitely would've came in handy right now, she thought with a grimace.

A tingling, stinging feeling, erupted on her left forearm, startling her as she watched part of her embodied spell fade away. The reddened skin, peached and scabbed, that had once read "something lost" was now a far off, lightened scar, that twiddled her fingers when she slid them across it.
She had lost her satchel...
And quite possibly a few digits.
It couldn't truly be so simple, although it was. She was under a spell, the Spell that was rumored, that no-one knew much about. This was ridiculous, the sort of idea that Westerns were spoon-fed to on a silver screen. Lanakila didn't consider herself to fall outside the margins of mediocrity, which left her confounded. A mixture of emotions, of fears and ideas and hopes poured into her, like gallon after gallon of thin, runny paint. Dried and flaked behind every emotion, every feeling, was a mixture of other colors, for you couldn't make one without another.

Eager to depart and travel as far away from The Widower's cave as humanly possible, Lana tried to ignore her aching muscles, piercing lungs and numb fingers. Days of malnutrition had kept her feeling weak, quivering as if she was a leaf that faltered at the slightest breeze. She could hardly recall her days of minor education on geography, but it was enough to point her in a wobbly southward direction, using her extended right pointer finger to start off.

(\) (\) (\) (\) (\) (\)

There wasn't a sign of life in sight, only the consist blues that were unescapable. A sneaking suspicion dawned on her that she wasn't traveling in a straight line, but an abstract of loops and crossovers. Other than keeping her neck balanced and focusing upwards, she had long since straggled on with a drooping frame. The floor, however, did not reflect it's watering companion, and bustled with miniature activities, as well as wayward drifting objects. There would nearly often be a diversion for the eye within reach, a creation to encourage pressing on, accompanied by her song.
So caught up in mesmerizing the sand-pebbled universe was she that the arched bridge took her by surprise. Her fins, which were evolving to appear less stereotypical Little Mermaid and more medieval, lightly grazed the coral edge. She continued to murmur, nearly straight into the next verse, only to halt mid-sentence.

"Sleep restlessly, my Child
For the sun rises Tonight
Where seagulls cry And Sirens sing
To the rhythm of an Anchor's
Piercing ring
Some things the tide can only bring-"

The arch was gigantic, and it wasn't standing alone. Each arch raised, inch by inch, creating a pattern of sorts that angled uphill, creating a cobblestone bridge. It was dissolved in moss and algae, decaying stunningly underwater. Warily recalling what had happened the last time she opted to scout out an unnatural formation, she was about to confirm hanging back when a nagging voice reminded her of the Spell.
What was next, again?

Something gained...

Swimming carefully around the arcs, she soon switched methods and weaved in and out of them, an aura of expertise coming over her until she awkwardly slammed her head atop one. Massaging her forehead in circles, she could already sense a goose-egg rising.
As she twisted her hair and swooped right to weave through the next arch, she stumbled into space and gasped.
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WOW OH WOW ITS BEEN SO LONG since I updated. School is almost over so I can finally dedicate more time to Sea Spell this summer! Thanks for waiting so patiently.
Also, we've reached 10,000 reads which is just mind-blowing. I love you guyssss.
Chapter Thirteen- coming soon!
Comment, vote, yadda yadda yadda.
xoxo
payton.