Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series)

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Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series) Page 3

by C. Deanna Verhoff


  “Happy Harvest Day, Mom,” she said, and with a wave was off through the dim woods, toward the mesa.

  If only she had a hand-held Sliver like most kids, she would call Clash to let him know she was starting for the mesa earlier than planned. The devices weren’t reliable underground, but the flexible polymer cases made them waterproof, and practically indestructible—perfect for caving. It would be nice to chat online, play video games, or read an electronic book to pass the time waiting for her best friend to arrive.

  After an hour at a steady pace, her goal loomed large in the distance. Before long she reached the top where the entrance to the caverns below opened wide like a mouth holding a high note for all eternity. Above the opening, a message was etched into the stone with weathered lettering:

  Beware: this mountain and everything in it

  be private property.

  Trespassers devoured on sight.

  According to Grandpa, the message had been there when he was a boy and as far back as anybody could remember, but there was no public record of anybody ever owning Queen’s Mesa. Glory found it a curious thing, but knowing the person who wrote it had no doubt turned to dust long ago, being devoured wasn’t high on her list of concerns.

  Cave exploration was dangerous enough on its own. A slip into a crevice, a backbreaking fall, the Cold Crazies—otherwise known as hypothermia, were all possibilities, yet part of the thrill. Go back and wait for Clash, she told herself, only idiots cave alone. She took a deep breath, switched on the helmet light, and ventured down deep into the belly of Queen’s Mesa.

  Chapter 3

  Glory wriggled through the same tight tunnel they had discovered on their last trip. After a long stretch, it opened into an airy cavern where the light from her helmet illuminated a pale brown ceiling. She guided her flashlight over a sloped limestone shelf running along its upper perimeter. Boulders dotted the landscape, including a shallow pool that covered half the floor. Bloink, bloink, bloink echoed the steady sound of dripping water. Yep, she grinned. I’ve found the mesa’s sweet spot for sure. From silvery barite specimens to translucent blue crystals, there was no telling what lovelies the Queen might give up. Maybe, Glory dared to hope, this would be the day the mesa parted with something priceless.

  She let her bag of gear drop with a dull clunk. “Prime hunting ground,” she announced to the empty cave, her echo bouncing down the cool cavern walls. “Thirteen! Hundred! Hours!” the male voice programmed into her watch barked like a military commander. “Oh crud.” Had it been that long? She pictured Clash waiting for her outside the mesa passing the time playing games on his Sliver, not realizing she’d gone in without him. He’d probably hang around an hour before losing his patience.

  “What a lousy best friend I am.” She considered turning back, but a tall crevice—one she hadn’t noticed last visit—caught her attention.

  It zigzagged up the wall and looked wide enough to squeeze through.

  “Well, hello there,” she said to the crack, aiming her light toward it into the dim unknown. Hundreds of crisscrossing rainbows appeared on the ceiling, dancing with every jiggle of the flashlight. Her eyes traveled over the spreading colors at the top of the cave. “Whoa!” she gasped, mouth gaping.

  The number one rule of spelunking was bring a light, bring a backup light, and bring a backup to the backup. Helmet light, check. Flashlight in hand, check. Spare in bag, check. The second rule was always bring a buddy. Clash, er…despite the risk, she had to go in there.

  Glory slid into the crevice.

  The bumpy walls were high in places. The top opened like a valley. The space quickly narrowed. She sucked in her pudge, shifting her bag to the side, and squeezed through hip first. The view on the other side took her breath away.

  A natural cathedral ten times bigger than the school gymnasium stood before her in dizzying splendor. Thousands of years of water droplets, mixing with calcite from the stones, formed cream-colored stalactite and stalagmite pillars. They thrust upwards and downwards twisting and turning into a maze of delicate ivory. Its arched ceiling, crusted with sparkles, appeared as a starry night straight out of a fairy tale. Mirrored crystals magnified the beam from her flashlight a hundredfold explaining the rainbow effect. Glory felt like she had burrowed out of the sewer and into wonderland.

  “Holy schmoly,” she whispered, eyes like sponges, absorbing the spectacular vision before her. Stalagmites resembled a forest of candles dripping with wax. Glory walked through them until she came to a vast dome that rose up and up. Below, the floor gleamed like polished marble and a lone stalagmite spiraled from its center. A black rock the size of her head, perfectly round and smooth as ice, balanced upon it.

  Glory’s heart fluttered.

  In their natural state stones rarely formed with such symmetry and shine. The walls of the cavern slanted inward as if bowing to the rock at the center. Water trickled in the distance. Heat rushed to her clammy cheeks. She had found the most perfect rock in the universe and it was just sitting there begging to be taken.

  For a minute, she stared, drooling in its presence, feeling her spirit being drawn toward the stone ahead of her tiptoeing feet. The unexpected sound of sniffing prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. She stopped to listen.

  What if Grandpa’s tales about enchanted man-eating creatures living in the mesa were true? Glory shook her head. Impossible. She’d been in Queen’s Mesa dozens of times without seeing the slightest hint the legends were true. But what if other spelunkers were in the cavern and tried to grab it first?

  She sprinted over the wide, empty, floor sliding to a stop in front of it. Tiptoes strained as she licked her lips and reached out for the most beautiful rock ever. Trembling, Glory’s fingertips made contact. A warm pulse came from the stone. She tried to recoil, but too late! It exploded into millions of stars of every color.

  Blown back ten feet, tiny stars penetrated her skin like bullets, sizzling as they quickly faded. She glanced upward. The rock sat on its stalagmite pedestal as if nothing had happened.

  But something had happened—was happening.

  Light burst within, sending fire through her veins. She grabbed at her chest, eyes squeezed shut as some unnamed part inside burned. Behold, the lowly are raised, a woman’s voice sang from somewhere far away. And the empty are filled. Rejoice. The words became a lullaby, lifting her higher and higher, into outer space. Behold. The lowly are raised. And the empty are filled. A blue and brown planet surrounded with wisps of white clouds circled a yellow star. A gray planet surrounded by red rings whizzed past followed by a huge green world orbited by a dozen moons.

  “Elboni!” the unseen woman suddenly shouted.

  The word bounced off the walls of the cavern, growing louder and louder, until Glory covered her ears. Reeling, she tried to stand, but staggered and fell.

  Knees held to chest, she rocked back and forth, squeezing tears out of the corners of her eyes. Great discomfort gradually turned into pleasant warmth. It spread outward from beneath her heart and into limbs. Basking in waves of tranquility, she wanted the feeling to never end, but it was over all too soon, leaving Glory feeling emptier than ever.

  “Whoa.” Hands went to helmet. “Am I dead?” She slid it off and felt around her skull checking for bumps, cracks, blood or any sort of damage. Everything felt in place, but she considered the possibility that she was lying unconscious somewhere dreaming all of this. “Maybe I have the Cold Crazies and I’m hallucinating,” she moaned.

  Her eyes locked on the rock. It sure seemed real. Glory gazed at the rock with hunger and knew she must have it. Fierce emotions muddled her thoughts, but she fought to gain control. A good spelunker knew to stay calm and continually assess the situation.

  The miner’s hat had stayed in place during the explosion. The flashlight had rolled twenty feet away. Glory was grateful to see that it was still working. A sixth sense nagged, warning her not to linger, so on hands and knees she scurried to the flashlight and tuck
ed it under an armpit determined to take this tremendous discovery with her. One problem though. A rock that size would be difficult to lift, yet alone lug it all the way home.

  Glory stood by the curly stalagmite holding the prize staring in awe, bracing for another show of fireworks. Slowly, carefully, she winced as fingertips touched its smooth surface.

  This time nothing happened.

  Hopes drooped, but at least this meant she could take the rock without fear of another explosion. She hefted it from its base. Contrary to appearance, the stone was light in weight, no heavier than a jug of milk.

  Glory dropped it into the backpack with less extraordinary specimens. Then she heard that sniffing sound again. This time it was followed by a low growl.

  Spinning around, she aimed her light this way and that, until it landed on a slab of white rock. The rock appeared to be breathing.

  Glory’s heart jumped to her throat.

  The slab turned her way. Red eyes the size of dinner plates glowed back at her.

  Glory froze as a giant head came into the flashlight’s beam. It had a huge doggish muzzle, pointed black ears, and a white hide like scorched rock. It stood eight foot tall at the shoulder. Brown, thorn-like protrusions speckled its body. Fangs that looked like railroad spikes dripped with saliva.

  Everything went numb at the sight of the beast’s blazing glare. It stared at her with teeth bared. A guttural growl filled the cavern. All she could do was stare back with mouth agape.

  The creature leapt, shattering a lacy awning of mineral icicles. Glory dove forward, ducking beneath its outstretched paws. The devil-dog landed on the ground behind her and turned to snap at the back of her neck.

  Glory darted through a grove of stalagmite trees and ran toward the fissure she had entered by, sliding into the narrow opening just before the beast overtook her.

  Too big to enter the crack, the hellish hound clawed madly at the entrance. Panting heavily, Glory doused the light under her jacket. The world was pitch black. Everything fell quiet.

  Had the beast given-up? Sweat dripped down her face and back. The idea of flipping on the flashlight, exposing her whereabouts, seemed suicidal, but navigating the caves without light would be equally deadly.

  Glory switched it on, and glanced upward just in time to see a thick glob of drool coming right at her face. Splat, it oozed down her cheek.

  The creature had climbed to the top of the shelf and planned to tear her out of the crevice. Glory let out a strangled whimper. The creature snarled and pushed its head down through the rock. The thick sinews in the beast’s neck flexed as it strained to reach her.

  She flattened herself on her back to avoid being chomped. Glory hugged her bag and prayed like crazy. Every muscle rigid, she expected to be ripped to shreds. When it didn’t happen, she opened one eye to see that the beast’s head was too big to fully penetrate the crack. Finally, it ran off, barking like a hundred hounds before a foxhunt.

  There might be other ways out of the caverns, but Glory only knew of the one at the top of the mesa. Uh-oh, her insides twisted in alarm, what if it sniffs out my trail? She gathered her footing and slithered out of the crack as fast as she could.

  It was a race to the entrance at the top of the hill. Glory’s legs pumped, heart pounded, adrenaline surged like a firestorm through her veins. After sliding down an unexpected dip in the cave's floor, she stopped. Head jerking, she bounced the beam of the flashlight from wall to wall. Exit, where’s my exit? Eyes fell upon the freshly painted arrows marking the way to the top.

  Energy renewed, she sprinted over rocks. A wide jump, one that always frightened her even on good days, was coming up.

  For a second she considered dropping the beautiful black stone to lighten the load, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She tipped her backpack, letting everything fall out, then hastily returned only the essentials—flashlight, water, and her newest acquisition. Zipping the backpack once again, she pressed its weight against her stomach to keep it from bouncing as she ran.

  The barking got closer.

  The urge to huddle into a cowering ball of jelly threatened to overwhelm her. Pull yourself together, don’t give into the fear. Fight it.

  The caves echoed with barking.

  Run. Her legs felt like soggy mush. Run.

  Here comes the jump! She sprang with all her might. Never had she cleared it with so much room to spare, but when her feet hit the ground on the other side, her flashlight dimmed. No! She nearly cried at the thought of being entombed in total darkness with the devil dog in pursuit, but tears were for wimps. Flashlight, don’t fail me now! She smacked the plastic casing and the light dimmed further.

  Growls seemed to come from everywhere. Glory had descended into the caves enough times to know that the hard walls deceived the senses. The beast could be a mile away or only a few feet. What was a giant monster dog doing at the bottom of a dark cave anyway? Up ahead a patch of bright yellow on the putty-colored wall came into view. Sunlight! Anticipation pushed her legs faster. Almost to the top, I can do this, not much further.

  Thunderous barking erupted from behind. She dared to steal a glance and saw a mass of white muscle and fangs closing the gap between them. Yikes! She lost balance, tumbled across the rocky floor, and veered to the left. The creature tried to halt, but skidded past until its front paws caught on a crack in the floor. It somersaulted out of control toward the cave’s opening, stopping just outside the entrance.

  When the rays of the sun hit its body, the creature’s hide burned away like paper touched to a flame, creating a spreading black ring over its haunches. With an ear-piercing yelp, it scrambled back into the cave, thrashed about, and crashed from wall to wall in a blind fit. Boulders and chunks of rock fell, filling the cavern with dust. Glory curled into a ball to shield her head and face.

  The cavern’s entrance smelled of powdered cement mixed with singed leather. The taste coated her tongue. The thorny beast ran in circles, whimpering, trying to lick the burns on its rump. She quietly scooted along the perimeter of the rocky walls hoping the devil dog creature had forgotten its prey. Her lungs wanted to hack out trapped dust, but she fought the contraction.

  One eye on the creature, another on the cavern’s entrance, she trod over broken rocks. Ten more feet to the cave’s opening...a little more...a little more... the confused animal panted on its side too preoccupied with licking its hindquarters to see her leave.

  Free at last! Glory rushed down the side of the mesa. Sliding halfway, she lost control, and rolled down the rest of the way until her body whacked against a tree. Ignoring the tearing pain in her ankle, she was on her feet in an instant, prepared to sprint through the forest.

  A heavy touch to the shoulder made her scream. She spun around with fist raised. There was Clash, white-tipped hair standing straight up, fishing pole in hand, backpack slung over his shoulders.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Clash’s voice rose in puzzlement. “It’s just me.”

  Glory looked back to the mountain from where she’d just escaped. It jutted out of the forest like a giant tree stump, veined and brown. A hawk circled its peak, but there was no sign of the beast. A faint howl echoed from the hilltop, fading away until the only sound was Glory's own labored breathing.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Clash asked.

  “Do you have to ask?”

  “You mean that dog howling?”

  “That was no dog. It was the red-eyed devil of Queen’s Mesa.”

  He laughed, shaking his head, not taking her seriously at all.

  She ought to be mad at him, but if the roles were reversed, she’d think he was joking too. In the light of day, the legends surrounding the mesa seemed absurd again, but the urge to put distance between her and the caves was strong. She forced her taxed body to move forward. Clash followed her deeper into the woods.

  Limping along, she ignored her friend’s confused and irritated inquiries as to why they
were leaving the mesa when their intent was to explore it. Feeling hot and shivery at the same time she tore off her headgear and flung it into the brambles.

  “I’m done with spelunking!” she vowed in disgust, tears of frustration working their way to the surface. Leaves crunched beneath her feet. Breaths came in jagged spasm. “If I never go back to Queen’s Mesa again it’ll be too soon!”

  “What?!” Clash threw up his palms. “Don’t tell me you went to the pool without me!”

  “Be glad you didn’t go,” Glory said, brushing away a tear. “It was awful!”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “N-n-no.” Glory’s chest spasmed as she fought to gain control.

  “Then I’m really honked off. We’ve been planning this for weeks. And I’m ready to spelunk.”

  “I’m never going back. The Hoogula is for real.”

  “Now I know you’re just trying to be funny.”

  Glory hugged herself. Her teeth chattered uncontrollable.

  “Oh, bloody gut bucket, you have the Cold Crazies!” Clash flipped open his Sliver and studied the screen to do a search. “That’s what you get for going without me. That was a really foolish thing to do.”

  “You don’t understand. It was real. Everything was totally real. Now nothing is the same. I can feel it. Something’s different. Something important.”

  “You’re babbling and not making any sense.” Clash held out his screen for Glory to read. “That’s a classic symptom—see. Cold Crazies, yep, that’s what’s real.” He took off his camouflage jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “I’m not cold and I’m not crazy!” Glory shoved the Sliver out of her face, but kept the jacket. There’s something alive in there and it tried to kill me.”

  “If you’re not cold it’s worse than I thought.” Clash studied his screen some more, tip of tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. “People about to freeze to death often feel warm. They sometimes take off all their clothes. It’s called paradoxical undressing. Are you feeling the urge to take off your clothes, Glory?”

 

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