Chapter One: The End of the School Year

On May 22^nd, these were the facts:

1. Ryan didn’t know where his father was.

2. Ryan’s aunt seemed to be losing her mind.

3. The only truly stable thing in Ryan’s life was his best friend, Genevieve.

4. Ryan tried not to think of the future, knowing how the past had already made his present a rather dismal affair.

But facts change.

Ryan began his morning almost like a typical school day. He slapped at his alarm clock at 6:30AM, tore back his blankets, and rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

Four months before, his father would have been somewhere near. Ryan would have heard him making kitchen noises or creaking down the hall. Or it would have been his father poking his head in the doorway to tell him good morning, rather than his aunt.

“Good morning, Ryan,” his aunt mumbled to his room.

Ryan didn’t answer her. He didn’t have to. She was already down the hall groping for the coffee maker.

Ryan didn’t much care for his aunt Rachel. He knew she didn’t much care for him. He hadn’t wanted to be stuck with her as his temporary guardian. He begged his father to say no the day she showed up to offer her services, having heard through Ryan’s grandmother that services were needed.

But Ryan’s dad had been stricken with the offer. He stood in the dining room, listening to Rachel’s every assurance of Ryan’s safekeeping, and continued life-as-usual while he was away. Ryan knew his father’s reaction to his aunt had everything to do with the fact that she looked exactly like Ryan’s dead mother, being her twin sister and all.

His dad wanted to pretend Rachel was his wife. He wanted her to stand in the kitchen and assure him that Ryan would be fine. He wanted her to walk through his house, watch his TV, maybe do the crossword at the kitchen table with a cup of chamomile tea. He wanted to come home and find her in the garden, or under the willow, or anywhere.

But Ryan didn’t give in to any fantasies or illusion. He knew Rachel was nothing like his mother. He knew there would be no crosswords and chamomile, no life-as-usual, and definitely nothing worthwhile or wholesome to come from her staying with him. He knew there would be trouble. And he couldn’t stand to see Rachel in the kitchen, wearing his mother’s face.

Ryan pulled on his t-shirt and stumbled into his shoes. He brushed his teeth and whatnot in the bathroom, and met Rachel in the kitchen as they jostled for coffee at the counter. She looked worse than usual. But it was Friday, and so she’d been out the night before.

Her eyes were glazed and red, her hair stood out on one side of her head, she smelled almost like the underneath of the bridge near his school. She hadn’t taken her makeup off the night before, and it had smeared and slid to one side of her face. Her robe was tied crazily, and only half covered her tattered nightshirt. She moved around in a cloud of cigarette smoke, filling the kitchen.

“I won’t be here after school today,” she told him, clanking his mug out of the way and letting the ash from her cigarette drop onto the counter. She took the coffeepot from him.

Ryan didn’t answer.

Rachel poured her coffee, coughed between her pinched lips, and blew ash and smoke out in a foul cloud. White flecks of burned tobacco rained down on Ryan and his mug. She turned and staggered out of the kitchen.

Ryan blew the ash from his cup, poured his coffee, and sat at the table.

Rachel stopped in the doorway, scratching her butt and ashing her cigarette on the floor. She cocked her head to the side, glaring out of the corners of her eyes. Eyes like his mother’s eyes, only wild, and mean.

Ryan said to the faded copy of his mother’s profile, “Okay, see ya tomorrow.”

“More likely Sunday,” said the back of his aunt’s head.

Ryan watched her walk back down the hall toward his father’s room. He sipped at his coffee until Genevieve slid through the side door. Then he scooped up his backpack and they went out into the cool morning sun. They didn’t speak until they were four houses away.

“Hi,” said Genevieve.

“Hey,” Ryan replied.

“Rough morning?”

“Yeah. Do I look it?”

“No,” she put her arm around his shoulders, “No, I could just smell it when I walked in.”

Ryan looked over to his best friend as they walked. She knew when something disturbed him. She always had. Since the day he moved next door to her.

“Rachel’s getting worse. Acting weirder, being meaner, staying out more, if you can believe it, she’s even more distant than ever. She just told me not to expect her all weekend. No explanation. No number to call in case of emergency.”

Genevieve tightened her side-hug on Ryan, “She’s always sucked.”

“Yeah. Just more lately. And I keep hearing her talking to herself. More recently. She’s not on the phone, no one’s in her room, and she talks in this creepy whisper. She even answers questions. I heard her say, ‘What? Of course I did. Don’t ask,’ or something like that.”

“Yeah, that’s weird. It’s a good thing she’s just skipping-out this weekend. You’d have been better-off staying by yourself while your father’s off adventuring.”

“Definitely.”

“Besides,” she said, kicking a shriveled apple down the sidewalk, “I’ll stay with ya. We’ll watch movies and all that.”

Ryan let her talk happily at him about the coming weekend all the way to school. They walked into homeroom together with her deciding on the order of the movies they’d watch, and what they’d snack on while watching each movie. Ryan was always thankful for Genevieve. He knew he’d been moved-in next door to her for a reason. Without her, he’d have long ago gone completely insane.

After first hour, Ryan went to Math, and Genevieve had French. They wouldn’t meet-up again until lunch, after two classes apart. In the afternoon, they had their final three classes together. They’d been in each other’s classes, either by pure luck, or by sympathetic design, since the second grade. Once they began attending their junior high, Smithan Djones Junior High School, they found that they had most of the same classes. This semester, in the end of their eighth-grade year, they had only two classes without each other.

Math passed without incident.

Ryan’s next class was French. Half an hour into class, as he was praying for some miracle to save him from conjugating three ridiculous paragraphs, the intercom on the wall crackled to life.

“Mrs. Ferguson,” came the secretary’s voice, “Can you please send Ryan Abraham to the office?”

His teacher nodded to him and rolled her eyes toward the door. He shoved papers and books into his backpack, and hurried out the door.

As he slowly made his way to the office, Ryan tried desperately to figure-out what if he’d done anything to warrant the summons to the office. He could think of nothing.

Ryan walked sheepishly into the office. Immediately, the secretary called him over to her semi-circle desk.

“Ryan,” she said, peering over her half-glasses, “I have something for you.”

She rummaged for a moment on her desk, and produced a long, dirty envelope. She handed it to him.

He took it gingerly by the corner. “What’s this?”

The secretary gave him a long look before she answered. “I have no idea. It was just brought in here by a very smelly man dressed in rags. He didn’t say a word, just slid this onto my desk and left. Perhaps he found it in the garbage. It’s yours.”

Ryan held the envelope so he could read it. The secretary went back to shuffling papers around and pushing random buttons on her computer.

The envelope said: To Ryan Abraham (9^th grade)

Smithan Djones Junior High

Flagstaff, Arizona

Or, it mostly said that. The “j” in “Djones” looked like an “i”, and “Arizona” was smudged enough to read, “ona”.

Ryan stood looking at the envelope.

“That’s all, Ryan,” said the secretary.

“Yeah. Uh, thanks.” Ryan turned and went into the hall just as the lunch bell rang. He walked to his locker, not taking his eyes off the envelope.

Genevieve waited for him at his locker. She saw him coming. He looked like a zombie.

“Hey,” she said when he stumbled up to her. “What’s up?”

Ryan held up the envelope. “This is from my father.”

Genevieve grabbed his wrists, pulling the envelope closer so she could read it.

“Drop your books. Let’s get outa here, and open it.” She spun his combination on his lock, whipped open the locker door, and unzipped his backpack.

Ryan re-read the envelope while Genevieve pulled out his books, slammed them into the bottom of the locker, snatched up both of their backpacks, and pulled him along down the hall and out the double doors.

In the sun, the envelope looked dirtier. The writing looked just as much like his father’s as it had inside.

“We’re leaving campus for lunch,” Genevieve told him. “Put that in your backpack, and let’s go.”

They made their way casually to the lunch truck. Smithan Djones Junior High School has a very strict closed campus rule. Once a student is on school property, it takes notarized documents in triplicate, a blood sample and FBI profile from the adult coming to claim the student, and a thorough screening process upon exit. Or, it takes ingenuity.

The local lunch wagon was allowed to pull up to the edge of the school’s parking lot. Ryan and Genevieve learned that the truck provided perfect cover for making a lunchtime escape. Getting back on campus proved slightly trickier, but they’d done it at least three times a week since starting at the junior high.

They walked around the back of the truck, pretending to be interested in the foil wrapped burritos, and plastic flavored Rueben sandwiches.

When no one was paying attention, they slid around to the far side of the lunch wagon. This put them at the edge of the street. Across the street, the ground plunged into a low juniper and sagebrush forest.

They just waited until no cars were visible, and dashed across the road. Jumping down into the gully put them well below the street, and therefore completely invisible to the school.

There was a bridge just after the school, to let the sometimes river run below the street. Ryan and Genevieve walked along the river, and emerged in a neighborhood neighboring the school. Ten minutes later, they were behind the tall fence in Genevieve’s backyard.

“Is your mom asleep?” Ryan asked.

“Like a hibernating bear,” Genevieve replied. She pushed aside two wooden slats, and they squeezed through into the yard.

They ran hunched-over to her garage, and sneaked into the kitchen through the side door. They silently crept upstairs, past Genevieve’s sleeping mother’s room, and into hers at the end of the hall.

While Ryan crouched on her floor, unzipping his backpack, Genevieve went to her window to survey his house.

“Rachel’s car is still in the driveway,” she told him.

“That’s okay, we’ll stay here.” Ryan pulled the envelope out of his pack. He turned it over in his hands, reading it for the thousandth time.

“Open it.”

He did. Inside was a letter. When he unfolded it, money fell out and fluttered to the floor. Genevieve bent to gather it while Ryan read the letter aloud.

Here’s what it said:

Ry,

I’m sorry to have to send you a letter instead of showing up myself. I’m sending Burke to deliver this, but you won’t see him either. I need you with me, Ryan.

I’ve sent some money for a bus ticket.

I need you at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon by Saturday, the 23^rd. If all goes well, that’s tomorrow.

Get a bus ticket to the South Rim, and meet Burke at the Kachina Lodge. He’ll be watching for you.

Don’t tell anyone about this. Not even Rachel. Bring gear and clothing for camping.

I’m sorry for all this. If there were any other way, I’d be doing it. I’ll explain when I see you.

I love you Ryan. Be safe, be AWARE and I’ll see you soon.

Dad

“There’s five hundred dollars here,” Genevieve said.

Ryan read the letter again. Genevieve pressed the money at him.

“I’m going, you know,” she told him with her determined face on.

“Good. I would have asked you to anyway.”

“I know.” She sat next to him, hands in her lap. “So, this is totally crazy.”

“That’s what I was going to say. My dad’s no cloak and dagger type. He’s a professor. And since when does he just let me get on a bus headed for the Grand Canyon? He won’t even let me ride my bike to the mall. Vieve, this is totally crazy.”

They sat and looked at each other for a while.

Dust settled in the sun.

“We need to get our stuff together,” Genevieve finally said, breaking the strange spell that had taken them.

“Yeah. I need to wait for Rachel to leave.”

Genevieve stood up. “Well, let’s pack me.”

As they rummaged through her house for a sleeping bag, and snacks, and whatever else Genevieve thought she might need for a weekend at the Grand Canyon. This included three hairbrushes, two toothbrushes, a big tube of toothpaste, a compass, eyeliner, lipstick, mints, a bag of corn chips, a bag of chocolate chip cookies, a bag of chocolate chips, two glamour magazines and a comic book, a horror novel, a flashlight, a huge hunting knife that Ryan had never seen before, which she produced from under her bed, a small stuffed tiger, a bag of crystals (for protection), and four changes of clothes including a parka, rain-gear, and two hats.

Ryan frowned when he hefted the large bag she’d shoved her things into.

“Only the necessities,” she answered, packing her backpack.

“I’ll pack light,” he said.

They sat on the edge of her bed and peered between the blinds. Genevieve put her arm around Ryan again.

“Maybe your dad discovered Atlantis.”

Ryan nodded absently. Maybe his dad had actually discovered what he was looking for. It would certainly explain why his father was sending him secret messages after having had no contact for so long, and acting like some sort of spy. But why would he need Ryan with him? It was all so strange. And scary. He leaned into Genevieve’s hug.

Ryan’s dad had moved them to Flagstaff to take a job at the University. He was an archeology professor. For many years all he did was teach class. Occasionally, he took a group of students out for the day to a local archeological dig. But mostly he went to school every weekday. Then, at the beginning of January this year, a man came to visit Ryan’s father at home.

The man was introduced to Ryan as Burke, his father’s oldest friend and colleague. Burke stayed with the Abraham’s, and he and Ryan’s father spent many long hours talking in hushed, but excited, tones. One month later, Burke and Ryan’s dad left on a dig. They were supposed to have been somewhere in Utah.

The dig had been no secret. His dad had leave from the University. He even took three students with him. Ryan suddenly wondered if the students had checked-in with their families in all this time. He’d never even thought to find out who they were, or contact their parents.

“There she goes,” Genevieve whispered.

Below them and across the yard, Rachel was dragging her own luggage to her car. She tossed a suitcase into the backseat and a backpack into the front. She followed the backpack into the car, and without a sideways glance, she backed out of the driveway and drove off down the street.

Ryan picked up Genevieve’s bag, and they made their way downstairs. In the kitchen, Genevieve stopped to write her mom a note.

She said she was staying at her friend Susan’s for the weekend, and left a fake phone number. Genevieve didn’t know anyone named Susan. She knew her mom would never call the number, and probably wouldn’t notice if Genevieve were gone for a week.

At Ryan’s, Genevieve went through the refrigerator while Ryan packed. He went to his closet and snatched up his camping pack and coat. He unzipped the top of the pack and crammed the coat in with the rest of his gear. Ryan’s camping pack was always ready. He had all he would need to live comfortably in the wild for a few days.

He picked up his camera and the book he was reading from his dresser, added them to the pack, and slung the backpack over his shoulder. He met Genevieve in the kitchen.

“I’ve got some granola bars, beef jerky, and fruit already in my backpack. I thought maybe you’d want to make a couple PB&J’s for the road?” Genevieve was looking through the phone book.

Ryan made sandwiches.

Genevieve called a cab.

Ryan slipped the sandwiches into his backpack. “You called a cab?”

“We’re not walking to the bus station. You’ve got plenty of money for a cab.”

Ryan joined her at the window in the dining room. They watched the street.

“Vieve, I think this could be dangerous.”

“What the cab? Well yeah, have you ever been in one?”

Ryan made her look at him. “I mean this whole business with my dad.”

“I know. Yeah it’s all a bit ominous. But it beats spending the afternoon in school and the weekend stuck inside with a bunch of dumb old movies.” She smiled.

Chapter Two: The Road to Sumer

They sat quietly waiting for the taxi. It came quickly. The scraggly cabbie got out of the car to help them after they’d dragged their bags to the trunk of his car and stood waiting for him to open it for about a minute.

“Where’s yer folks?” the cab driver asked once they were on their way.

Ryan started to answer, but Genevieve broke in, “They’re at the bus station.”

In the rearview mirror, they saw the driver’s bushy white eyebrows rise. “Oh yeah? Well good thing. They don’t just let kids get on busses by themselves. Gotta have an adult at least buy their ticket and send ‘em off.”

“Yeah, that’s smart,” Genevieve answered.

Ryan tried to break eye contact with the cabbie. He wanted to tell him to watch the road. The guy just kept staring at him.

“Yeah,” Ryan said.

The cabbie watched the road. He asked, “Where ya goin’?”

“Utah,” Ryan answered.

Genevieve grabbed Ryan’s hand and squeezed it the rest of the way to the station.

The driver threw their bags out of the trunk for them. Ryan paid the fare, and tipped him five dollars.

“Thanks, kid.” The cab driver walked around the cab and got in, but not before shouting, “Better go find your daddy!”

They carried their bags to the front door, but didn’t go inside the bus depot.

“What are we going to do?” Ryan slumped down on top of Genevieve’s bag.

“We’re going to sit for a minute and think. I called the bus station from your house. There’s a bus leaving for the Grand Canyon in an hour. We’ll figure it out.” She joined him atop her bag.

They sat for ten minutes until fate dropped a plan in their laps. A tall, burly man dressed in camouflaged pants and a denim vest came toward the door, talking to his female companion.

“So them Alcohol, Firearm, Tobacco guys come chargin’ in, and I’m sayin’, ‘You ain’t got no right! You ain’t got no right!’ and they just tackle me, and cuff me, and the next thing ya know…” He opened the door for the lady and followed her inside, still telling his story as the door closed behind them.

“Give me two hundred bucks,” Genevieve held out her hand. Ryan pulled counted out two hundred dollars and slipped it to her. “Wait here,” Genevieve told him. She followed the couple inside.

Fifteen minutes later, she was back on their pile of belongings, handing Ryan his bus ticket. He looked at her with a question, and so she answered him.

“I told that guy that our dad was a member of The Liberated Sons of Democracy. I said he was hiding out from the FBI at the Grand Canyon, and we were on our way to deliver messages and supplies. He told the ticket agent I was his niece, and that my brother was outside with our stuff, and she bought it. I gave him fifty bucks for his trouble, and told him to keep up the good fight.”

Ryan stared at her.

“The Liberated Sons of Democracy?”

“Sounds good, huh?” She winked.

Soon their bus was announced, and they boarded. It was 2:45 in the afternoon. They would be at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon by 5:00PM, making only two stops along the ninety-mile trip.

Genevieve and Ryan sat at the back of the bus. They talked together in hushed voices about what they expected. They ate their sandwiches midway to the Canyon. They arrived at Grand Canyon Village without incident as the sun began turning the desert red around them.

After Genevieve’s bag came out from under the belly of the bus, they straggled toward the lodge. Ryan searched for Burke, but couldn’t find him.

They made their way toward a gift shop next door to the Kachina Lodge and again plunked down upon Genevieve’s bag. She handed him a bottle of water she’d taken from his fridge.

“So where’s Burke?” she asked.

Tourists wandered by in groups. The entrance to the lodge was choked with a constant flow of people going in and out. There was no sign of Burke.

“I don’t know. I guess we wait for him. Let’s go look out over the Canyon.”

“Fight a hundred people to stare at the same patch of canyon? No thanks. I’ll wait right here.”

“Come on.”

“Nope. I’ve seen it a thousand times.”

“Me too, but the sun’s just right.”

“That’s what all those tourists think, too.”

“Vieve,” Ryan started.

“She’s right. The overlook is crowded right now.” A man’s voice behind him startled Ryan into remembering that he was looking for Burke. He jumped.

“Burke!” shouted Genevieve. She bolted up and hugged the dusty, bedraggled man.

“Hi,” Burke said, smiling at Ryan over Genevieve’s shoulder. “Good to see you two.”

“Hi, Burke,” said Ryan.

“C’mon, let’s get your stuff into the Jeep.” Burke bent down and hoisted Genevieve’s bag. “Rocks?” he asked.

Genevieve giggled.

Ryan picked up his pack, and they followed Burke to his Jeep. They didn’t speak until they were on the way out of the Village. Burke turned off the main road, onto a dirt trail. After driving for a short time, he pulled over.

Burke got out, taking a pair of binoculars with him. He surveyed the road behind him. Ryan and Genevieve joined him behind the Jeep.

“I’m making sure no one’s following us,” Burke told them.

“Yeah, we thought it might be something like that,” Ryan answered.

“What’s going on, Burke?” Genevieve asked.

Burke peered through the binoculars, saying nothing for a long moment. “I’ll let Ryan’s dad tell ya,” he said, putting down the binoculars, and turning back toward the front of the vehicle. “We’re not far.”

And they weren’t far. They drove for three miles across a rutted, washboard road. Then they left the road completely and plunged down into a valley filled with short junipers and cedars. They crept along the edge of the Canyon until they came to the bottom of a sheer cliff wall.

“Here we are,” Burke announced.

“Where is here?” Genevieve asked him as she slung herself out of the Jeep.

Ryan followed her out, having been in the back seat. He looked around as Burke answered Genevieve’s question. The view of the Canyon was spectacular. Layers of red rock were falling to purple as the sun began to creep low in the sky. The familiar haze of the evening had begun creeping upon the mesas in the middle of the Canyon.

Ryan didn’t hear Burke’s answer. He heard Genevieve’s repetition of the answer.

“We’re at the cave opening? We’re going into a cave? Not me. No way. I am NOT going into a cave. Ryan, tell Burke I’m not going into a cave.”

Ryan turned to Burke, who was unloading the Jeep. “Vieve hates caves.”

“A little claustrophobia, huh?” Burke strained to lift Genevieve’s bag.

Genevieve stalked to the back of the Jeep. “I am not claustrophobic. I just hate caves. They’re scary, and gross, and filled with nasty little transparent creatures.”

“Translucent,” Ryan chimed. “Cave creatures are translucent. You can’t really see completely through them.”

“Whatever,” Genevieve said.

Burke smiled through his long, crazy beard. “I have a feeling you’ll like this cave. Now, we really have to get going. We need to get you two inside so I can go back and cover our tracks, and hide the Jeep. Ryan, your father is waiting inside the cave.” He began lugging Genevieve’s bag toward the cliff wall.

Ryan picked up both of their backpacks with one arm, and hooked his other around Genevieve. “Come on. If it’s too scary, we’ll both come right back out, and my dad will just have to come outside.”

Genevieve allowed herself to be pulled along. She tried not to think of blind spiders, and white centipedes, and the other nasty things she knew would be inside, but she thought of them all. Unfortunately, it turned out they were parked right next to the entrance to the cave, and she had no time to convince Ryan or Burke that she should by all means stay outside.

Burke dropped her bag in front of a large round boulder that leaned against the cliff. He then grabbed hold of the boulder, and rolled it to the side. Behind the boulder was a hole about the size of a washing machine.

Burke got on his hands and knees, and turned himself so that his feet pointed into the hole. He grabbed Genevieve’s bag, and shuffled backward. He edged into the hole until he dropped over a ledge, and soon only his head and shoulders were visible.

He pushed Genevieve’s bag out of the way and said, “Alright, there’s this short drop down, and then you just turn yourself around, slide down the slope, and I’ll be at the bottom waiting for you.”

Ryan felt Genevieve tense. He hugged her to him.

“You’ll be fine,” he told her, “I’ll be right behind you, and Burke will be right in front of you.”

Genevieve looked at Ryan, and then past him to the Canyon, and the sky, and then to the hole, where Burke was no longer filling its blackness, and her bag had disappeared.

Suddenly she was on her knees, and backing into the hole. Then she was dropping down until she was completely in the dark, and all she could see was a slot of glowering sky above her, and the tips of some cedar trees.

Then Ryan’s face was there.

“Are you alright, Vieve?” he asked too loudly.

“Fine,” she answered.

She twisted herself around and sat down, thankful she was wearing jeans. Genevieve edged forward on her butt until she found the slope Burke had spoke about.

Burke spoke from just below her, “Just lean back, Genevieve, and scoot just a little. It’s not far. This is the way out, too, it’s no big--” Genevieve interrupted him as she came sliding into the dimly lit room.

“No big deal at all,” she told him.

Ryan came slipping down right after her, with their backpacks in tow.

“Hold on,” Burke told them, and crept back up the incline.

They heard him grunting, and the sound rock scraping rock, and Burke returned to them, having hidden the entrance.

He strode past them, scooping up the torch that had been so dimly lighting the large room in which they stood, and began dragging Genevieve’s bag down a long, wide, and tall tunnel to their right.

Ryan took Genevieve’s hand, and they followed Burke.

He led them through a twisting hall that bore into the side of the cliff the way a giant, rock-eating worm might. They went right, and left, and right, and down, and left again. They clamored through tight archways, and down tumbled boulders, wound their way through stalagmites, and pools of dark water.

All the while Genevieve became more and more ready to scream and run back the way she came. But she didn’t, because she knew she’d easily become lost. They’d passed many corridors and tunnel openings along the way, and by the time she’d simply had enough, and knew she could no longer bear walking deeper and deeper into the horrible, creature-filled cavern, Burke stopped.

He said, “Here we are,” and he pointed with the dwindling torch to a dark hole in the tunnel wall.

“Great, another cave inside a cave,” Genevieve muttered.

“Come on,” Burke chuckled, and he led the way. “Watch yourselves now, there’s stairs.”

Ryan followed Genevieve, who walked close to Burke and the torch. They entered the tunnel, and found a staircase carved into the stone leading downward in a tight curve to the left. They picked their way carefully down the narrow stairway. The torch shone on the smooth walls, and Ryan thought he saw carvings as they descended.

Suddenly the darkness gave way completely, and they found themselves at the end of the stairs, standing in a small, rounded room that was ablaze with light.

Burke lumbered toward the far wall, dragging Genevieve’s bag along what was now a clean rock floor. He pressed his hand against a fat, square chunk of stone that stood out on the wall.

A door slid open before him.

“Come on,” he said, walking through the door.

They followed.

The door slid shut behind them, but they didn’t notice. Ryan’s father was standing in the room, and they both rushed forward to hug him.

“Dad!” Ryan exclaimed.

“Rex!” yelled Genevieve.

“Ryan! And Vieve!” Rex shouted, his voice ringing in the large chamber. He swept them up in his arms and hugged them until they all hurt.

Finally he let them go. Rex stood back a step, clasping them still by their shoulders. He smiled at Ryan, reassuring him all was well with his deep-eyed welcome. Then he turned to Genevieve.

“I knew he wouldn’t come without you,” Rex told her.

Then he let them go, and wheeled around, and swooped his arms upward in a wide, winging exclamation and said, “Welcome to the Caverns of Pa Bil.”

Though the name meant nothing to them, and inspired no awe or wonder, when Ryan and Genevieve beheld just the first room of the Caverns of Pa Bil, they were awesomely wonderstruck.

Rex skipped down a wide, but not tall, set of steps with Genevieve at his arm and Ryan following closely. When they’d reached the bottom, and the low roof of the anteroom was behind them, they could truly behold the cavern.

The room in which they stood stretched out nearly a mile before them. The roof of the cave could not be seen. The walls that they could see were bedecked with what looked to be solid gold. There were tall statues of people, animals, and of strange, unidentifiable things standing throughout the vast reaches of the room. There were pools of water. There were waterfalls. The cave was lit as if by the sun.

Clustered in front of them, about fifty yards away, was a group of short, sturdy structures surrounding a tall, step-pyramid.

“Dad,” Ryan choked out of his dry, open mouth.

“I know,” his father replied.

Genevieve whooped, “I do like this cave!” She turned to find Burke, but he’d already gone to cover their trail. Her bag sat at the top of the short stairs.

Ryan stood and took in the cavern. He forgot almost at once that he was at the Grand Canyon. He couldn’t even imagine that this magical place was only a hundred miles from his home. He suddenly felt as if he’d been transported across the world, or back in time, or to the center of the Earth.

“Well, come on, I’ll show ya around a bit.” Ryan’s dad skipped up the stairs, heaved Genevieve’s bag, and trundled past them, leading them toward the buildings ahead.

They walked along a pathway of bright stone blocks set into the floor of the cave. It was a long and straight road that led from the entrance to the pyramid.

“It’s like an Egyptian ruin, but it’s not ruined,” Genevieve whispered as they passed an elaborate fountain.

“It’s older than any Egyptian ruin,” answered Rex. “And yes, the Caverns are quite intact.”

“Are we going into the pyramid?” Ryan asked as they came closer.

“Not yet,” his father told them. “First I thought I’d show you the bathrooms, and where you can sleep. Then we can eat, and I’ll tell you what exactly is going on, and where exactly we are.”

As Rex finished his sentence, he directed them toward a two-story building that had at first appeared to be right next to the pyramid, but ended up being kitty-corner across a wide road.

There weren’t many buildings, but both Ryan and Genevieve got the idea that they were in some sort of city.

Ryan counted seven buildings, including the pyramid.

Genevieve counted as many, but she also counted nine fountains, four waterfalls, and seven covered holes in the cavern floor that resembled manholes.

She’d also taken note of the absence of insects, arachnids, and reptiles, and the presence of what seemed to be sunlight. Her fears of blind, albino creatures began to dissipate.

They came to the open door of the building. It looked as if it had been carved out of the surrounding rock. Like it had once been a massive stalagmite, and someone shaped it into a perfect cube.

“This is the High Priests of Pa Bil apartment building. It’s where we’re staying.” Ryan’s father dragged Genevieve’s bag through the wide entrance. As he crossed the threshold, lights came on inside.

Rex led them through the foyer, and into a wide room with a tall ceiling. There were round light fixtures held like bubbles to the ceiling. A fireplace dominated the wall to their left, and Ryan found familiar camp chairs, four of them, arranged around the hearth.

They went through the room, not stopping to gawk at the impressive carvings in the walls, the statues of men and women, or the elaborate pillars that connected the floor to the ceiling.

They filed past the fireplace and down a hallway. Rex stopped after passing three stone openings that looked like small garage doors. At the fourth door he pushed a stone button on the wall beside it, and the door slid gratingly to the side.

Dragging Genevieve’s bag to the side of the entry, Ryan’s father led them inside. “Genevieve, this is your room,” he said.

Ryan slung Genevieve’s backpack on the bed. Then he realized there was a bed.

“There’s a bed,” he announced.

“Yeah. There are these stone beds in every room. Burke and I put air mattresses in them. They’re comfy. Let’s drop off Genevieve’s stuff, and I’ll show you all the room features in Ryan’s room.”

He opened another sliding door. It was the connecting door between Ryan and Genevieve’s room.

“It’s like in a hotel,” Genevieve commented as they walked into the next room.

“Every room connects,” Ryan’s dad said.

In Ryan’s room, his father showed them the bathroom. This, of course was a great place to start, because the last bathroom either of them had seen was behind a drippy stalagmite near the entrance of the cave.

The toilet seemed to work like any other toilet. Using the bath was like standing under a hot-spring waterfall. Three different sliding rocks on the wall controlled temperature and water flow. Water poured out of a wide slot in the ceiling, and bounced its way down a series of smooth protruding stones until it spread out and rained down in a rhythmic, drenching shower.

Rex agreed to meet them in the main room by the fire after they’d cleaned up.

Nearly two hours later, because of the supreme dreaminess of the showers, Ryan and Genevieve sauntered into the room.

Burke and Ryan’s dad were seated in front of a crackling orange fire.

“Hey Burke, hey Rex, so where’s the grub?” Genevieve put herself in front of the fire.

Ryan’s dad smiled. “It’s cooking.” He reached down and pulled up a thermos and two travel mugs. “Have some hot chocolate.”

Ryan sat next to his father. “Dad, what’s going on?”

Rex looked to his son. “Ryan, there’s a lot going on. I’m going to tell you all about it over dinner. It’ll be done soon. For now let’s sit.” He leaned back in his chair, taking its front legs off the floor.

Burke got up and wandered into a room beside the fireplace.

Genevieve wandered, examining the sculptures and columns, and every intricate detail of the stone room. The globular lights at the ceiling had been dimmed, and the firelight cast shadows that animated the faces on the carvings about the room.

Ryan’s dad said, “I’m so happy that you both made it here safely. I’m terribly sorry about all the secret messages, and the bus ride, and all. Ryan, what did you tell Rachel?”

Genevieve returned to Ryan’s side as he spoke.

“I didn’t tell her anything. She’s gone for the weekend.” Ryan wanted to stand up and scream at his dad for leaving him with Rachel. He wanted to tell him what a crazy, lousy, frustrating, horrible, evil woman she was. But he didn’t.

His father’s face had already fallen. Ryan knew his dad was reading his body language. He knew he was telling him a little of what he wanted to say, just by the silence after the small amount he had said. But he could also read his father’s unspoken words.

His dad was truly oblivious to Rachel’s true self. Ryan could see it in his eyes. He really saw his wife in Rachel. Ryan couldn’t tell his father about the real Rachel. As the fire popped, and Genevieve put her hand on his shoulder because she knew, Ryan understood that it was not the time to spill his guts.

He couldn’t tell his dad that twenty minutes after he and Burke left town, Rachel left, too. He couldn’t tell him just then about catching Rachel rummaging through his father’s study. Or about the four different men who visited regularly. Or about her talking to herself, or the hidden video camera Ryan had found in his room, or any of the rest of the creepy, strange, and downright rude things that had been going on in the Abraham household since his father left.

His father leaned his chair forward. “Gone for the weekend? Who were you going to stay with?”

“I was going to stay with him,” Genevieve said.

“What? Has she done this before?”

Ryan broke in, “Dad, there’s some stuff to tell about Rachel, but not right now. We really want to know what’s going on, and what this place is, and how you found it, and why we’re here, and a million other things more important than Rachel.”

Burke poked his head into the room at that very moment and said, “Soup’s on.”

Rex stood. “Well, come on. Let’s eat, and I’ll tell you everything. But later I want to hear about Rachel, and how’s she’s been treating you. It sounds like I made a mistake.”

Genevieve took Ryan’s hand as he stood, and she squeezed it, and she looked into his eyes and said with her own that he’d been all wrong about his dad not wanting to see the true Rachel, and that everything was going to be okay. Ryan understood most of it.

They gathered in the room beside the fireplace, and Ryan and Genevieve were pleasantly surprised to see that the fireplace was open to that room too, and that a long, stone dining table stretched its way beside the fire, laden with delicious smelling food.

“Burke, what’s all this?” asked Genevieve as she found a seat in front of a whole turkey.

“It’s a feast,” Burke answered, sitting down.

Ryan sat beside Genevieve.

Rex stood at the head of the table. He picked up a crystal glass filled with dark wine and raised it in a toast.

Then he said the craziest thing. “This is the Feast of the Father and Son. The Meal Before Traveling. We sit at this table tonight, surrounded in the circle of love and peace as given by Pa Bil, the Archer, the Gatekeeper, the great God of Defending. Our thanks to Pa Bil, for all he’s given us, and for all he will bring in the future.”

“Okay…” Genevieve whispered.

Ryan stared at his dad, but raised his glass, and drank a small sip of the tangy wine.

Rex sat down. “Let’s eat.” He heaped mashed potatoes on his plate.

Ryan still stared.

“Did you cook all this, Burke?” Genevieve asked, scooping corn from a big bowl.

“Sure did. It was kinda tricky, since we weren’t sure when you two would show-up. I started the turkey this morning, and then drove to Flagstaff to deliver the letter, came back here, took it out, and stuck it in the fridge. Then after I picked you up, I came back and finished cooking it. It’s done, but I’m not sure if it’s as juicy as it could be.”

Ryan stared at his father, who was adding gravy to his potatoes. He passed it to Genevieve, who had just plopped a huge spoonful of potatoes on her plate.

“Well, it smells delicious,” she told Burke.

“Potatoes are good,” said Rex.

Food piled up around Ryan. He stared at his dad.

Burke took Ryan’s plate. He loaded it up and sat it back in front of him.

Burke said, “You eat. We’ll talk.” He turned to Ryan’s dad and said, “Rex, start at the beginning.”

“Start with Pa Bil, and that freaky prayer,” Ryan said.

Rex smiled at his son. “I’ll get to the freaky prayer soon enough. Burke’s right. I should start at the beginning.” His smile faded.

Ryan scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes. Vieve was already well into her meal. She looked up from her plate to make eye contact. Burke silently shoveled food in his mouth.

Rex began. “Eleven years ago, Burke called from Seattle to let me know there was a job opening at Western Washington University. He told me that by taking the job, he and I would be in a better position to explore the mystery that we’d been infatuated with since we’d met in college.” Rex looked from Ryan and Genevieve to Burke.

Burke stopped eating long enough to nod and smile. After finishing his mouthful, he said, “We met at Cornell. It turned out we were both very interested in the same twist of history. We became instant friends.”

Rex took three bites of cooling potatoes. He swallowed some wine and continued his story. “Here’s the mystery, though I’m sure you’ve both heard it discussed: Why is it that there are no ancient cities on the North American continent?

“Partly, of course, it has to do with geography, the ice age and all, but that doesn’t explain it completely. Quite feasibly, throughout the history of man, North America has been very accessible. Why didn’t the Aztecs expand northward? It’s believed that their entire civilization began there, as a small group of nomads. Why didn’t they go back? The Toltecs visited at least as far north as Idaho, there’s proof of it.

“Why is it that the Mayans and Egyptians traded with each other, but neither civilization seemed to give a whit about the huge country just north of the great Mayan empire?”

“The mound builders are the only example of high civilization, and they were totally primitive compared to their contemporaries around the globe,” Burke chimed.

Ryan realized his food was getting cold. “So why is it? Why didn’t anyone build cities in North America?” He ate some turkey.

“It was forbidden,” his father answered.

“ForBIBben?” Genevieve asked through mashed potatoes.

“Forbidden,” said Burke.

“Forbidden by whom?” Ryan wondered.

“Ah! Exactly!” Rex threw his hands in the air. “But we’re getting ahead of the story. Burke and I have only just learned the reason why there were no high civilizations in ancient North America. Before a couple of months ago, it was a consuming mystery with very little in the way of clues.”

“But we found quite a few clues,” added Burke.

“Yes. Yes we did. One of them led Burke to a discovery. That’s when he showed me a relic discovered by one of his students excavating near the Puget Sound. That’s when we began this quest. Ultimately, that discovery led us to the answer to our question, but not without a long and difficult journey. That answer, I’m sure you understand, has led to many more questions.” Rex scooped some corn onto his fork.

“But we think we know how to find the answers,” Burke said.

Ryan’s father nodded. “Yes, we think we do.” He looked around the table. “You know, can we finish this after I eat? It was a bad idea to start talking about this with a plateful of food in front of me.”

Everyone agreed, and though Ryan and Genevieve were curious, and slightly in a state of shock, they waited patiently through dinner to hear the rest of the story.

Finally, after struggling through dinner and even dessert, the entire group sat before the fireplace. With mugs of coffee, they settled in to listen to Rex and Burke explain themselves.

Rex wandered back and forth in front of the fire. In the flickering light, his face looked like one of the faces of the statues in the room.

“Ryan, you and I originally came to Arizona because of what I hoped to find in the Grand Canyon. This place.” He swept his mug in an arc. “In Washington, we uncovered evidence of its existence. I came here to find it. I wasn’t having much luck until Burke showed up with yet another piece of the puzzle.”

Burke stood up and rummaged in his shirt. He pulled out a disk-shaped stone about the size of a CD, and held it up for Ryan and Genevieve to see. “This is a map. It was carved about seven thousand years ago. The strangest part about it is it shows the Canyon as it is today. The exact location of the small entrance in the cliff face where we entered the caves is clearly marked. Also, the main entrance is shown. Here, look.” He handed the stone to Genevieve.

“It’s like an aerial photo. It’s so detailed,” Vieve said. She handed it over to Ryan.

He studied the map for a moment. “The main entrance is in a cliff face hanging over the Canyon. Why is that?”

Rex answered, “Because the main entrance is a hangar. The builders of the Caves expected most visitors to be flying in.”

“What?!” demanded two voices.

“Yeah,” said Burke, “but that’s nothin’.”

“He’s right,” Rex added. “There are much stranger things than that.”

“So what is this place, Dad” Ryan asked.

Rex sipped his coffee and looked toward Burke. The red-gold light and the dancing shadows of the room made the moment a bit of scary magic.

“It’s a lot of things. It’s a temple, a home, a fortress, an interplanetary spaceport--” He stopped talking because Genevieve and Ryan seemed to need a moment to process.

“Spaceport.” Genevieve stated blankly.

Ryan gave his dad a sideways smile. “The nutty professor indeed,” he thought.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Rex said.

“But it’s all true,” Burke assured.

“And there’s more.” Rex squatted in front of the fire. “We believe there’s some sort of time-travel device here.”

Ryan looked at Vieve. She held out her hand, and he took it. They sat in camp chairs at stared at Ryan’s dad. The room flickered.

“Are you two crazy?” Ryan finally asked.

“We really don’t think so,” Burke said.

The hissing and pop of the fire were the only sounds in the room for a very long time.

Finally Rex said, “Why don’t you two get some sleep. We have much more to tell you, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

Genevieve and Ryan hugged Rex and Burke, and made their way to their rooms. Vieve brought her sleeping bag into Ryan’s room, and they snuggled up together on the rock-pedestal bed. Soon Ryan mumbled goodnight through the beginning of a dream, to an already sleeping Genevieve.

Chapter 3: A Fork in the Road

Ryan awoke to darkness. There was no red digital display of the time from his alarm clock. He wondered if the power was out. Then he remembered where he was.

“Vieve?” he asked, sitting up.

She wasn’t in the room.

When Ryan stood and took a step forward, the lights came on in the room. Ryan checked his watch. It was 6:39 AM. Through the adjoining door between their two rooms, Ryan could hear that Genevieve was taking a shower. He did the same.

When he came out, scrubbing at his wet hair, Genevieve was sitting on her bed. Seeing he was dressed, she came to the doorway.

“Ready?” she asked.

Ryan noticed that she had her backpack on. “Ready for what?”

“Breakfast,” she answered.

Ryan stopped in front of her. “What’s with the backpack?”

“Oh. Well I talked to Burke this morning, and he said that we should come to breakfast ready for an adventure. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about some sort of crazy omelet, or a walk around the caves. At any rate, a girl’s gotta be prepared.”

They soon made their way to the kitchen, where they did indeed find omelets waiting for them. Rex and Burke were there, too. Ryan noticed they had backpacks slung across the backs of their chairs.

“Good morning!” Rex beamed.

“Why am I the only one without a backpack?” Ryan asked.

Burke laughed.

Rex said, “Burke and I carry ours wherever we go. We keep essentials with us, in case we get lost.”

“Lost?” Genevieve wondered, examining the omelet on her plate.

“There are lots of passageways. We haven’t mapped them all.” Burke watched Genevieve studying her breakfast.

“You can get yours before we head out,” Rex told Ryan. “We’re going to the pyramid, to show you what this is all about.”

Ryan felt the hair on his neck begin to stand up. He found he didn’t have much of an appetite. He tried to eat an omelet anyway. The others began to talk in short sentences about how they’d slept, the quality of Burke’s breakfast, and a tiny, tiny bit about what to expect in the pyramid.

After breakfast, Ryan returned to his room for his backpack. With the others waiting in the hall, he decided not to worry about unpacking the non-essentials, and just heaved the pack onto his back, fully packed from the day before.

Without speaking, the group made their way out of the apartment building and across the wide avenue to the pyramid.

Ryan and Genevieve let their eyes wander from the massive blocks of stone making up the base of the pyramid to the shining capstone at its apex. Ryan had studied the pyramids of Ancient Egypt for years. He knew as much about them as he could.