desert gorge

chapter nine

As she entered Antelope Canyon once more, Liz wondered if it was all a terrible plan and whether or not she should go back to safety with only the feeling of dread about Aspen's disappearance to accompany her. The crevices seemed mysterious and almost creepy in the twilight moon shining down, and she crept further in only to find that it took five feet for the starlight to wane completely.

"Shit," Liz muttered, then undid the clasp on her purse to draw out one of five flashlights. Sue her for being prepared.

The beam reached about three feet in front of her as she continued deeper into the cavern, and died out completely as she reached the first of many ladders extending downward after a half hour of walking carefully.

Another hour of descending further revealed nothing important or out of the ordinary, and Liz had almost decided to retreat back to Desert Gorge when she noticed an odd ladder that she'd never seen before. It looked older, almost ancient in fact, and if she wasn't so desperate to find Aspen she probably would have never touched the thing for fear of it snapping under her weight.

A tentative step revealed that the ladder was much stronger than it looked, and Liz decided to continue onward. It was extremely long, and a quick look at her watch showed it took nearly ten minutes to reach just the middle of the thing. Jesus, no wonder some people joked that Antelope Canyon extended to the center of the earth.

The surrounding depths were silent as she finally touched the stone floor, and Liz began to regret not letting Julio know that she'd left. It had been a split-second decision; one moment her hand was poised to shake him awake and spill everything, the next she was delicately slipping out of a well-oiled window instead of the creaky front door. Now, Liz flipped on the third flashlight of the night and snuck further into the pitch-black crevice ahead.

A whisper of wind glided through her long turquoise hair. Liz whirled around anxiously to find nothing, but it didn't settle her nerves a bit. Up ahead, she heard various scuttling noises—they may have been desert insects, or something else entirely.

"Not much further now, I hope..." she thought out loud. The beam of light emanating from the flashlight shook in her damp grip, and Liz kept a close eye on the floor to ascertain the source of the scuttling.

A scorpion emerged from around the corner, and she dropped the light. It rolled over and over until the light shone weakly on a small crevice, just large enough for her to possibly fit if she inched slowly and sideways. It was a terrible idea, but one that she was willing to carry out.

Her hands trembled just a little as she reached for her things and began to wriggle into the crack. It was tighter than expected, and Liz almost decided to turn back before slipping—with a gasp of fright—into a small grotto filled with a dim purple glow.

Freshly bloomed flowers intertwined with the emerald grass that blanketed the ground. The chamber was decorated with lush foliage yet felt completely empty, except for a small circle of medium-sized rocks that lay directly in the center. It was both gorgeous and terrifying to Liz, but she felt intrigued. Why was there a random grotto full of nature's beauty in the middle of a canyon in the desert? And this far down, it was nearly impossible for plants to grow without some sort of scientific intervention on a crazy proportion.

Liz stepped closer, looking down in wonder as her ochre skin was bathed in violet light. In fact, she was so entranced by the beautiful sight that she didn't notice herself entering the strange ring of stones centered in the grotto.

A brilliant glow blinded her, and Liz felt...strangely woozy...