"Careful," Miss Moore says. "This ravine's a bit tricky. Seems to come out of nowhere and then you're falling and breaking your neck."
We cross the ravine, walking over a small bridge into a spot where the trees open to form a small circular clearing. I catch my breath. It's the same spot where the little girl took me, where I found Mary Dowd's diary. The caves are in front of us, tucked beneath a ledge overgrown with vines that tickle our arms as we thread our way through them into the velvety blackness. Miss Moore lights the lanterns we've brought and the cave walls dance in the sudden brightness. Generations of rain have smoothed the stone to such a high sheen in some places that I catch a fractured glimpse of myself on its uneven surfacean eye, a mouth, another eye, a composite of ill-fitting pieces.
"Here we are." Miss Moore's deep, melodic voice bounces against the craggy bumps and smooth planes of the cave. "The pictographs are just over here, on this wall."
She follows her light into a large, open area. We all bring our lanterns and the drawings come to startling life, a treasure revealed.
"Rather crude, aren't they?" Ann says, examining a rough outline of a serpent. I think instantly of her tidy quilt with no wrinkles, no loose ends.
"They're primitive, Ann. The people in these caves were drawing with whatever was available to themsharp rocks, makeshift knives, a bit of clay paint or dye. Sometimes even blood."
"How revolting!" It's Pippa, of course. Even in the dark, I can practically feel her pert little nose wrinkling in distaste.
Felicity laughs and takes on the tone of a fashionable lady. "Darling, the Bryn-Joneses have just done the most marvelous thing in their parlor with human blood. We simply must have ours done straightaway!"
"I think it's disgusting," Pippa says, though I suspect she's more put out by Felicity and me sharing a joke than any mention of blood.
"Blood was used for a sacred drawing, to pay tribute to a goddess whose influence was being sought. Here." Miss Moore points to a faint red etching of what looks like a bow and arrow. "This is one for Diana, the Roman goddess of the moon and the hunt. She was a protector of girls. Of chastity."
At this, Felicity gives me a sharp nudge in the ribs. We all cough and shuffle our feet to hide our embarrassment. Miss Moore soldiers on. "The quite remarkable thing about this cave is that there are depictions of all sorts of goddesses here. It isn't just the Pagan or Roman but the Norse, the Germanic, the Celtic. Most likely, this was a place known to travelers who heard they could practice their magic in safety here."