Waking the Dead by Jane Davitt, Alexa Snow Page A

high enough that it was reasonably dry and wide enough to sit on.
    They got there without taking their hands off each other, or falling over, which was an achievement in itself, the argument forgotten because this was way more fun.
    Then, as Caitrin twisted free with a throaty, husky giggle, Josh, automatically reaching for her, did slip, his startled cry changing to one of pain as his outstretched hand slammed hard against the cave wall, fitting into a scooped-out depression in the rock. It crumbled like wet sand and gave way, leaving him with his hand stuck through what should have been a solid wall, feeling cold, dead air whisper across his bruised, aching fingers.
    “Are you hurt?” Caitrin asked, turning to see.
    Josh drew his hand carefully back through the hole, wincing as scraped knuckles were dragged across the rough surface again. “No. More surprised than anything. What the hell?”
    Turning the flashlight’s beam to the wall, Caitrin prodded it with her other hand. More bits crumbled down onto the ledge they were standing on; she shoved harder, and a chunk of rock larger than Josh’s fist disappeared into the darkness behind, followed by a sharp, somehow wet, clack. “There’s something back there,” Caitrin said, sounding afraid and excited at the same time. “Some sort of space.” She shone the light in, and they could see that there was another cave back there, or another section of this one as big as the part they were already standing in.
    “Uh-huh. It looks like it was…I don’t know, sealed up, or something. Here, careful.” Josh reached into the now-larger hole, gripped onto another chunk of rock, and pulled. He could feel it give, just a little, so he tugged harder and it came away suddenly; he almost lost his balance, but Caitrin steadied him.
    “Which of us needs to be careful?” she asked, grinning, and then they were working together, tugging chunks of stone free. They dropped some of them onto the ledge beside them; others fell back into the space behind the wall, some of those splashing wetly as they landed in water. When the hole was big enough, they squeezed through -- Josh first, then Caitrin, holding his hand.
    “God, it’s dark. You can’t even see where the water’s coming in,” Caitrin said. There wasn’t much of a place to stand -- just a few stones near the makeshift wall. Everything else was under water, the waves lapping at the rock as the tide came in.
    “If it’s in here, but not in the cave behind us yet, there must be some sort of underground channel leading out to sea that surfaces here,” Josh said. “And the water must fill this place; the roof’s barely high enough to stand in.”
    “It’s where they died, isn’t it?” Caitrin said, her voice stifled by the dark, damp air.
    “I guess…” Josh took the flashlight from her and turned it on the partially demolished wall. “The salt must have eaten away at this; it’s not solid rock; more like soil and rubble, compacted.” The light illuminated the wall and he frowned. “Is it me, or is there something drawn on this? A pattern, or something?”
    Caitrin twisted her head to look at it. “Maybe. It’s awful dark in here, and it could be just erosion.”
    “No,” Josh insisted, “It’s painted on with something. Look, here and over there…” His fingers traced the shape his eyes were trying to identify and make familiar. It didn’t take long, not in this nightmare of a place, with the water dripping out of black rock into inky water. “God, it’s that spell you told me about.”
    Caitrin gave a startled squeak Josh was willing to bet she’d deny making later and jerked her hand away from the wall. A moment later she was sliding over the rocks to land with a loud splash in the water a few feet away.
    “Caitrin!” Heedless of the icy water, Josh scrambled down to her and extended his hand. The water was waist deep here, and he was starting to think that getting the hell out would be a