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I ran one middle finger up the side of my face. No pressure, Jack. Don’t menstruate, don’t lose sight of the crickets, don’t drop the life-line. None of this had been covered in med school or residency. I had so many new life skills, and I couldn’t put any of them on my resume.
The boulder-door reappeared behind us, plunging the corridor into near darkness. As my eyes adjusted, the crickets seemed brighter, pulsing slowly in time with the walls, which also glowed faintly in patches.
“Ready?” Jack asked.
“Does it matter if I say no?”
Chapter Five
He threw the cage door open. Crickets burst out, bouncing onto walls and floor and flying down the corridor. Jack whooped and bounded after them. I fumbled the twine stick before realizing I needed to hold one end and let the twine unwind off the back end. Give the klutz the life-line. Great plan, Jack.
With a death grip on the stick, I ran. I wondered if he was picking up the mental signatures of the insects. His movements mimicked their spastic, popping course as we wound deeper into the earth. It soon became apparent that the twine was essential. Side passages were everywhere. Nothing was marked. We twisted and turned through the glowing walls, cricket chirps coming louder, the echoes bouncing off the stone surfaces in much the way the little jumping insects pinballed up and down, back and forth, in front of us.
Soon I was breathing hard and the way forward had narrowed considerably. We were descending faster, and I’d have broken my neck at one drop had I not seen Jack spring off a boulder ahead of me. He dropped eight feet to a sandy landing, spun around, and caught me before I could splatter my brains against the wall.
He cradled me against his chest like I was some damsel in distress and took a deep breath in through his nose. Apparently I smell like ambrosia to Inners, something else we hadn’t quite figured out yet.
“Hi, Doc.” He did that thing he does with his seduction eyes that also makes folks’ panties fall off.
The headlong chase of the crickets and my focus on keeping hold of the twine had caused me to let the mental walls fall entirely; I stopped a spurt of giggles from bursting forth. I got ahold of myself, and using the same tone of voice I would for a puppy chewing on my shoe, I said, “No! Bad touch! Down, Jack, down!” I bopped him on the nose with the twine stick. When he didn’t move, I added, “The crickets are getting away!”
“It’s fine. We have arrived.” He set me on my feet, and swept an arm at a last, tight section of rough stone.
We emerged into a space of cathedral proportions, seeming even larger after having traversed such cramped corridors. It was dominated by a deep, crystal-clear pool. Soft light emanated from every surface, a bioluminescence strongest around a rocky central island. It was hard to believe we were still on Earth.
"Why is everything glowing?" I asked.
"The microbiome of the cave exists in a symbiosis with the naiads. I don't understand the biology, but the light is an accurate barometer of the clan's energy."
I squinted. "Okay..."
Jack's teaching moment was cut short by Spot shooting from the water, webbed feet slapping the stones and claws scrabbling. His wide tongue lolled sideways from an even wider mouth set in a heavy, broad head. He butted Jack's face and chest. Thousands of clear tendrils draped from his sides and belly, and bright red gills extended into a ruff between his head and a mane of thick, floppy appendages shaped like pointed cones.
Spot greeted us in his version of those internet videos of dogs reunited with long-away owners. Wriggling in ecstasy, his thick tail slammed into the wall, then almost knocked Jack into the water.
"Spot! Settle!"
Spot rolled, pawing the air, never ceasing his wiggling and squeaking. He popped back to all fours and shook himself like a sodden, twenty-foot Afghan hound – covering everything in a fine mist of water and goo. Galumphing toward me, he bowled me over, snuffled me thoroughly, and ended with a slurping lick of the entire left side of my head. Looking pleased, he chirped and clicked at Jack before somersaulting into the water. Spot surfaced expectantly, tongue out and leonine head bobbing.
This muppet exuberance alerted the entire cave to our arrival. Smooth white naiad torsos, clustered about the pool's central island, pivoted our way. The whole scene was framed by stalactites and stalagmites reaching for each other since time immemorial. Sheets of flowstone formed unmoving draperies at the edges, and several large columns stretched from the island to the roof of the cave. The untouched majesty of the cavern sent goosebumps over all four of my limbs. It felt sacred. More worthy of protection and awe than any traditional holy place.
A haunting chorus swelled from the gathered clan, and Jack closed his eyes as his head fell back. I noted the first signs of his ‘succu-drunk.’ Too much delicious emotion does to him what old, smooth whiskey would to anyone else.
"Aren't they gorgeous?" he breathed.
On the surface, they were anything but. Appearances can be deceiving; in the alien refugee community of Central Texas, they usually were, especially seen through a human lens. Humans taught their children to fear witches instead of the people who burned them alive. Jack's genetic curse, passed on by a succubus mother, subjected him to every emotion and psychological signature nearby. It also gifted him a glimpse of folks' true natures. The naiad clan was blindingly beautiful.
An awkward child waddled from the pool to grab Jack's pants leg. Black eyes occupied most of its face, and its flippered feet were ungainly on land. When it smiled, the lipless mouth formed a rictus exposing a crowded army of needle-sharp teeth. It had no external ears, and the face was flat where a nose should be. Jack placed a hand on the hairless head, translucent skin shot through with visible veins.
"Azoh, tiny one." He crouched and pulled an oilskin bag from a pocket. The source of the ambulance’s sardine smell. "Make sure to share."
The child tried to pull Jack into the water with the hand not gripping the gift bag.
"We're coming. You go on," Jack laughed.
A bent elder came to collect the toddler and shot Jack a snaggle-toothed smile.
"I expected them to have tails. Mermaids have tails. The ones at the dock had tails," I said. It was all I could say. My brain was short-circuiting on everything I was seeing, including the sheer age and majestic beauty of the space.
