The Way Back Home's

Cave

Everything goes so fast. Farrell felt his body start to slow down. Something's holding back the fall. The gentle wind moves from below against gravity. Even though it was cold and frail, the wind accepted it like a giant hand. Down, Farrell slowed down. Then, something sleepy his shoes. Next, the wind wave suddenly disappeared. Gravity pulled him to the ground. It was fortunate that he had held back with his hands and it was fortunate that he was wearing gloves. Otherwise, the rough surface of the ground must have scratched his palm.

“Christo!” Farrell called out in the darkness. His voice trembled with anxiety mixed with fatigue.

Farrell was expecting an answer, but the welcome that came up was much different. A light appeared all around. They came from torches hanging on the walls of passageways or caves, to be more precise. Farrell finds himself in a dome room with uneven walls, decorated with stalagmites and stalactites, with one walk behind him. He found a gray-white figure on top of one of the blunt stalagmites. Gizmo, the snowy owl, got there.

“What other place is this?” lirih.

“You can call it a basement.” Christo's voice was heard not far away.

Farrell gave a glance. It's easy to find fluorescent green in situations like this. The color sparkled amidst the dim light of the torch fire. Somehow the color was chosen as the color of the inn uniform. Christo sat in one corner of the room near the exit. Just like Farrell, his breathing was still panting. His right hand held the left, dirty brownish sleeve.

“You are injured,” said Farrell. He knew the brown stains on the shirt came from blood.

“Only scratched.”

“Then, we have to get out of here. The two men could catch up to us—”

“We're safe here. For the time being. Even your uncle doesn't know about this secret passage.”

Farrell was silent while trying to calm down. The chase was not only physically exhausting but also mentally exhausting. He doesn't know what's going on. Know-how now he's in the basement with the wounded Christo. Farrell glanced at Christo's wound again. “Many bloodshed.”

“Maybe the wound is wide.” Christo answered briefly as if he did not want to discuss it. He looked up as Farrell approached. “This injury is not a serious injury. No need to worry about me.”

“Ya, but at least we need to rebate it.”

“You're right.” Christo nodded. When Farrell had intended to take a handkerchief, Christo had already removed his tie. He bit one side of his tie and tried to wrap it around his own arm.

“It won't work. Let me help.” Farrell crouches. He took a handkerchief and pressed it against the wound. The blood washed it quickly. Farrell left his handkerchief there and wrapped it around with a tie. “Hopefully the bleeding quickly stops.”

“I'm fine. Not a big deal. It's just a small injury,” Christo said again.

Farrell turned and sat down beside Christo. His eyes drifted upwards. He can't see what's up there. There was only a wall that rose high up. Torchlight cannot reach it. “Christo, I think I owe you. Thank you.”

“Not to think about.”

“And you owe me an explanation.”

“What kind of explanation do you want?”

“Everything.”

Christo grunting. “It will take a very long time.”

“You're wrong. You don't have much time.”

“Then, tell me everything briefly, starting from what place is this. You said, this side of the inn is another world. Is that why there is a time difference?” Farrell remembers clearly leaving his room during the day. But, as soon as he crossed the door with Milo, he saw the night overshadowing the inn.

“This is indeed another world. Wizarding world. The difference is twelve hours exactly. Here, everything is arranged using magic. We have suppliers for all kinds of things. Self-regulating cutlery, scarce foodstuffs, paintings that can take you to the real location, talking padlocks, transparent paper and pens, many things. The people who stay here are indeed most witches.”

Farrell took a deep breath. “OK. So, this is a world of magic. The door on the third floor, which I passed with Milo, connected the ordinary world with the magic world. Didn't he? How can?”

“Entahlah. The two worlds are connected in parallel. To move, one had to pass through a portal. Some extraordinarily powerful witches could create their own portals. But ordinary witches don't. Inevitably, they had to look for a portal that had formed by itself. Natural portal. Eden’s Lodge has one. The witches make it an ordinary door.”

Farrell remembers the smoke dancing on the prism at the door. According to him, this prism does not make the door was in the category of ordinary doors. “So, that's what makes Eden’s Lodge different from regular inns?”

“Tap.”

“I've heard from dad about Eden’s Lodge's past. The inn used to be a grandfather's holiday cottage. When grandfather died, father and uncle went there to clean up. Then, somehow it went on until they remodeled it into lodging,” Farrell murmured slowly. “That must be because they found the door to the world of magic.” Farrell fell silent. He never thought that the inn his father used to run had such a privilege. All this time he had thought their inn was just a secluded inn on a snowy hill.

“Your father often visits the world of magic. He was interested in this world and eventually decided to do business utilizing that door. Among witches, Eden’s Lodge is quite popular. From the moment we opened, we had guests. Many guests. All rooms are almost always filled. Truly a time of success.” Christo let his gaze float when imagining.

“How about now? I saw many guests yesterday.”

Christo smiled faintly. “The side of the inn in this magical world is much bigger than your shadow. We even split it into two parts. North and South. We have fifty rooms and a dining room in each section. All you saw yesterday was the south. The North has never been used because visitors are declining.”

“Traffic to the other world reduced?”

“Maybe. But, if asked the main reason, I will blame your uncle.”

“My uncle? Why?”

“Your uncle is only focused on money. It was a big mistake for a manager and hotel owner. The hotel should offer hospitality. Your uncle increased the room rate but cut down on a lot of service. When there was a complaint, your uncle attacked them. He did not want to hear input from the staff. As long as you don't lose money, your uncle closes his eyes.”

“How about Denise? Who is he?”

“As far as I know, he's your uncle's friend. I've heard your uncle's conversation with him. Denise wants to buy Eden’s Lodge at a very high price. That's bad, your uncle agrees.”

“It's silly. I've never heard anything about this,” Farrell said. He never participated in raising or managing Eden’s Lodge. But, if indeed the uncle wants to sell it, at least he must ask for his opinion and his sisters. The inn was definitely not uncle's private property.

“Trust me, he has a malicious plan behind his offer.” Christo turned to Farrell, confirming the seriousness of his words. “Denise not only treats everyone badly. He was also willing to poison you with potions to obey him. Denise gave Remy the herb powder and ordered him to mix it in your food. His experiment on your first snack was a huge success.”

“Chocolate maple bar?”