After boating up the Colorado River for about fifteen minutes, Chance pointed to the left and the opening of a curvy channel. Mac slowed up and turned down the watery avenue. Chance thought Ana would appreciate the barren beauty of the landscape. If she had come.
Reaching the end of the winding canyon, Mac beached the front of the powerboat on land. Batukhan had since finished meditating and was alert and ready to go.
“Did you get a better picture last night of where we’re going?” Mac asked with a knowing smile.
Chance nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for pushing me to try again. I stared at the moon and was able to see something more than what I saw last time. A big boulder with a red handprint.”
“It should be easy to see when flying above,” Batukhan commented.
They took to the skies in formation, Chance taking the lead. Rising above the chalky sandstone, they flew out of the alcove they were in and returned to the main waterway. A fork in the Colorado was just ahead of them. Chance decided to go left.
Hours went by as they scanned from the air. They’d found one large stone that, at first glance, appeared to be what they were looking for, but without a handprint on it or being near a crack in the stone, it was discounted.
Hunger at the pit of his stomach grew and then deadened. He knew the others would want to stop soon and take a break, but every new channel that broke away from the river looked familiar. The hope renewed each time he explored an undiscovered section.
The sun had reached the highest point in the sky and began its descent again. Chance couldn’t tell what they’d already combed past or what they’d already seen before. Flying north, up yet another water-filled, grooved channel he saw something: a round, orange boulder balanced on top of the flat, rocky surface. Chance’s heart raced in excitement. He flew closer and circled overhead. The faded shape of a handprint could be seen on top.
This is it.
He glided past the boulder, looking for the opening in the sandstone to fly through, but didn’t see it. Rocks and dirt covered the surface of the rock with no opening in sight. Chance landed on top of the canyon plateau. His stick legs scurried across the warm surface, his wings held open and a breeze lifted him inches off the ground.
Chance shifted back to his human form and took up his search on foot. A groove in the rock, was covered with heavy rocks and earth. At some time, it may have been the opening into the the chamber filled with water, but now it was entirely blocked off. He tried moving the stones, but weather and time had cemented them in place.
“No, no, no,” Chance groaned.
The red-tailed hawk and swallow landed beside him. They turned their heads sideways. He felt their beady eyes on him.
He explained, “This was the way in.”
Chance picked up a stone the size of his fist and launched it across the channel. It hit the opposite side with a crack and dropped out of sight. He screamed until he was hoarse while grabbing the hair at his temples. The swallow and hawk stood still beside him.
What was he going to do? He had to find a way in. He wasn’t going to give up now that he was so close.
“There’s a cavern below us that is the entry into his hideaway. We need to find a way in. Will you help me look for an opening?” he asked, looking directly at his feathered companions.
In silent answer, they flapped their wings and took to the skies. He watched them fly around the bluff. Chance walked to the edge of the towering rock and looked down at the water that filled the area below. It was too far to jump safely, so he shifted back into a crow and flew down to a boulder at the water’s edge.
Once again, he returned to human form and slipped into the water. It was cold, but it didn’t bother him. He took a deep breath and went under. At the base of that section of sandstone the river was deep and he was forced to tread water. From where he swam he bowed his head back, inspecting every inch of rock above him. He couldn’t see any openings at all.
The red-tailed hawk came and perched on the same rock he’d sat on minutes before. It stared at him bobbing around in the water. Chance assumed his empty expression meant that Mac hadn’t found anything.
Just as Chance’s frustration mounted again, he observed the rock wall before him plunge below the pale green water and curl away into darkness. He had a thought. A hope.
Expanding his lungs, he breathed in and out slowly. Then he inhaled a deep breath of air and dropped below the surface. His hand reached out to follow the sandstone down a few feet until it completely arched away, leaving an opening. With a hard kick from his legs, he pushed himself forward blindly. Half expecting to crash headlong into hard rock, he kept swimming, clear of any impediment. Hands out, he reached for stone above him and felt nothing. His lungs burned—he needed oxygen. He cupped the water, gave one last thrust and let his body drift up.
His head broke the surface and he gasped for air. With his heartbeat thundering in his ears, he looked around in the darkness. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, he saw ribbons of light coming through small fissures in the wall high above him. The illumination cast was just enough for him to see that, nearly twenty feet up, was a shadowy ledge. It may not have been as well lit as it had in the memory, but he was certain this was the right place. He needed it to be.
After he caught his breath, he returned to the outside and daylight, swimming through the same opening. The hawk was waiting for him, sitting on the large rock, and the sparrow was now by his side.
He thrust his hands in the air, sending drops of water out. “I found it! A way in!”
Moments later, Mac and Batukhan had joined him in the river. Mac was bright eyed but Batukhan appeared nervous. He said, “I do not like swimming. How far does it go before I get air on the other side?”
Chance shrugged and answered, “Maybe six or seven feet. I can go first if you want.”
Batukhan nodded, so Chance made his way through once more to the darkened cavern. After a few minutes, Batukhan’s sputtering and coughing echoed and he said, “I do not find this fun, but I do it for you and Ana.”
Chance chuckled. “Thanks, man.”
Bubbles tickled the hairs on Chance’s arms and legs. Chance heard the water’s surface break and someone take a deep breath. Through the gloom Chance heard the smile on Mac’s face as he said, “This is the most fun I have had in a long time. Thank you for this fun adventure.”
“We planned it just for you,” Chance responded. “So, that dark opening above us that’s barely lit is where we need to go. In the memory, Daemon flew to the ledge which turns into a short passage that leads to an opening that’s covered with a huge rock. He pivoted it in Sasquatch form, which left a small slit he went through as a monkey.”
Mac answered, “I don’t see any other way to get up there except flying, although it will be hard to take off from the water unless you know the form of a water fowl.”
“Uh, no,” Chance said. “But I bet Daemon did. If I thought about it maybe I’d find the mapping.”
In response, Mac’s soft voice echoed through the cavern. “For some things it is fine to think back on our past for guidance, but I wouldn’t be tempted to take the same shortcut of a man like Daemon. You might just surprise yourself with what you already know.”
He didn’t want anything to keep him from saving Ana. Momentarily, he grew angry at Mac, but then he heard something that calmed his soul like balm to a wound. You have the knowledge within you, the faint words of his grandfather said. Trust yourself.
He was struck with a realization and knew exactly what he should do. He felt like an idiot. His lungs filled with air and he breathed it out over many seconds. He used his powers to shift the infrastructure of his eyes. The darkness brightened significantly. Shapes stood out against the sandstone walls. He scanned the cavern for a way out of the water and found it. A crag of rock, like an arm, reached into the glimmering liquid. He swam over to it and was able to pull himself up. Enough room for two, it provided the amount
of dry space for what they needed.
“Over here,” he said. “We can shift from here.”
Batukhan swam over and joined him on the rock. He offered, “Maybe I should go up first? Did you see anything to avoid in the memory?”
Chance hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. “No,” he said, “I didn’t.”
“I would feel better going first. Just in case,” Batukhan answered.
Mac swam closer to them. “Always thinking of others, Batukhan.”
In the dark, Chance saw Batukhan shift into an owl and swoop up onto the ledge. After a minute, his human voice called down, “It appears to be clear. Come up.”
With little effort and a little smile, Chance shifted into the horned owl. He flapped his wings wildly and carried himself over the water. Up through the air he went, all the way to the ledge, high above the pool of water. An open passageway loomed before him, except of course for Batukhan, who was standing in human form a few feet away.
The sound of flapping wings filled the air. Seconds later, Mac joined him in the passage. Chance shifted into human form. He modified his eyes again to see better in the dark and looked around Batukhan’s shoulder at the tall, rock-covered doorway at the end of the passage. He could see the makeshift door was partially open, leaving a gap large enough for a small animal, but not a man’s shoulders.
“Is there a doorbell?” Mac asked over Chance’s shoulder.
Batukhan walked forward a step and grunted, lifting his leg up.
“You okay?” Chance asked.
With heavy pain in his voice, Batukhan muttered, “Just stepped on something sharp. I’ll be fine after I shift.”
“Okay,” Chance said. Then he asked Mac, “you want to try to ‘Bigfoot’ this rock open more?”
“Sure, but I have to get past both of you first,” Mac answered.
Batukhan said hastily, “Careful, looks like there might be broken glass here.”
Something furry brushed past Chance’s foot. The mouse scurried under them both and toward the entryway. While Chance stared in that direction, a large and very smelly primate rose up and stood in front of them. Its lips parted, revealing a set of large, white teeth.
“Very nice,” Chance said. He pointed to the right side of the stone where the opening was. “Can you give it a push?”
The stinkier version of Mac put his shoulder against the rock and appeared to shove as hard as he could, grunting in the process, but it didn’t budge.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chance said. “Looks like we have enough room to shift down and fit through, just like Daemon did.”
Mac shrugged and then deflated down into a chihuahua. Chance, thinking about Ana, phased into a fox. He wrinkled his nose to chase the itch away. A minute passed and he looked up to Batukhan, who was still looming over him as a man.
As if answering an unspoken question, Batukhan said, “I can’t shift. Something’s wrong.”
Chance stared at Batukhan’s feet, trying to process the unexpected news. It was then that he noticed the stream of blood that curled away from Batukhan’s foot. He sniffed the air. The familiar scent of blood mixed with something else.
Beside his friend’s toe, something gleamed in the dark. Its glassy, triangular tip was broken and shining wet with blood.
Hemlock. Damn.
Moving past Batukhan and the danger, Chance shifted back to human form. Unable to meet his eyes, he gave the bad news. “It has to be a hemlock-laced trap. I’m sorry, I didn’t see it in the memory.”
The expression on Batukhan’s face portrayed the disappointment he must have felt. “I do not like Daemon any more than I did before, and even less now. I am sorry I won’t be able to join you. I guess I will have to wait for you here.”
Chance shook his head. “Yeah, it doesn’t give me any warm fuzzies for the psycho either. What about your foot? Are you going to be okay?”
“I will be fine,” Batukhan said. “It hurts, but I can deal with pain. The poison will have run its course soon enough and I will be able to shift again.” He leaned against the passage wall. “Be careful—I hope you find it.”
“Thanks, see you soon.”
Sad to leave his friend, but not wanting to let another moment pass before entering into the hidden chamber, Chance returned to fox form and followed Mac through the opening in the doorway.
Chapter 23
In the form of a fox, Chance’s eyesight wasn’t great, but it was good enough to make out a dark passage curling downward. It was narrow, like the area they’d just come from, but its ceilings seemed high enough to walk through.
Ahead of him, Mac shifted into a man and continued on foot, crouching as he moved. Chance followed his lead, changing back to human form. The darkness in the passage was nearly complete, so he modified his eyes before stumbling on.
The lower they descended, the cooler the air became. They traveled a good twenty feet from the doorway when Mac slowed down, stopped and stared at the wall on their left. His fingers traced along a dark pattern on the sandstone.
“What did you find?” Chance asked.
Mac continued to look at the rock. “Just something my host finds interesting. It seems Daemon wasn’t the only one to use this location before. Pictographs were left by the natives. I wonder how old they are.”
“Great, let’s get going. On the way back, maybe you can check it out more?” Chance clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
Mac groaned. “The impatience of youth.”
While they continued on, the passage grew rockier and lost its smoothness. Chance didn’t recognize anything. All he remembered seeing in the memory was Daemon going through the doorway into darkness and then coming out into the grotto where he kept his treasure. There had been no visual of the travels between.
After turning a bend in the path, the tunnel broke off in two directions. One veered to the left and the contours of the walls were bathed in soft, white light. The other could only be perceived as a crack into oblivion, continuing down to the right. The stale air had an injection of fresh oxygen and Chance breathed deep.
Although he hadn’t seen any details of the path to Daemon’s chamber, he knew he’d only seen darkness. His instincts told him to keep to the shadows.
“Let’s stick to the right,” Chance said over Mac’s shoulder.
Without warning, Mac stopped at the Y in the path. His body went rigid; his shoulders lifted and pulled back. His voice’s cadence was different, slow and rhythmic when he said, “The blue star kachina is painted on these sacred walls. I wish to see our future.”
Mac placed his hands on either side of the passage that led into the light. A series of figures were drawn on one of the well-lit rocky panels. When he took a step forward, Chance asked, “Istaqa? Is that you? Can you let Mac come back for a minute real quick?”
With a shake of the head, Mac continued ahead and answered, “He will rejoin you after I look at the record my people left. You may wait or not. It is your choice. Mine has been made.”
Chance dropped his head back in frustration and clenched his fists. Well, he didn’t need Mac to help him find his way. “Fine, I’m going ahead. When you’re done, come find me.”
He turned into the dark tunnel, let his eyes readjust to the gloom and climbed over a piece of stone that was angled across his path. The crevasse sloped down as the way was hidden from view. Every few feet he went, the steeper it was. After moving across a ragged section, the floor smoothed out. Without caution, he put his foot down heavy upon the ground. Not noticing the loose gravel until it was too late, his feet slipped out from under him, sending him rapidly around a turn.
It is uncanny how many things go through your head in the moments leading up to disaster. All at once, Chance observed the drop-off he was inches away from and the good seven foot distance across to the opposite side of the tunnel where it continued. Pain erupted in his feet and thigh as his flesh scraped on the ground. A few choice swear words rang out in his tho
ughts and the fear he’d made his last, bad choice.
Instinct set in. Without truly thinking about it, light blue mapping filled his mind. His flailing arms turned into wings and his heavy body lifted up. The tips of his feathers brushed against the walls of the tunnel while he bobbed back and forth, trying to steady himself. With effort, he flew to the other side of the chasm and felt his talons touch down on the rocky ground.
His bird heart sped so fast, it sounded like a singular tone instead of a beat. He held open his beak, desperate for oxygen.
After he calmed himself enough, and deciding it was safe to shift back, he returned to his human form. His hands grasped either side of the walls, holding fast in the dark. Before he could adjust his eyes, he smelled something that struck fear in his heart.
He’d know that smell anywhere. Ana.
If she had to imagine what her honeymoon would be like, Ana never would have guessed she’d be without her husband and huddling, wet and cold, in the center of a subterranean cavern. Water surrounded the makeshift island on which she stood. Radiance glowed from her skin and the narrow openings in the ceiling. It reflected off the reflective surface of the pool enough so she could make out the various treasures piled below her. Gold coins and jewels laid the foundation, although they weren’t the more interesting finds. Wooden sculptures, tapestries and paintings from ancient cultures were layered among the mass. Tattered books and scrolls written in different languages grew wet under her feet.
Her body was wrapped with one of the more pliable tapestries. If she had been alone she would have opted not to be covered, because the heat radiating from her torso and chest was painful to the touch. Each breath she took burned.
“Do you like my collection of shapeshifter memorabilia and wealth? It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Ryan’s voice echoed through the grotto.
She didn’t feel like looking at him anymore. It made her too sad. The friend she’d grown to care about was being desecrated, or his body was. Everything that came out of his mouth sounded like him, but she knew better.
Ascension Page 22