Sonora: And The Eye of the Titans

by T. S. Hall

  “Talk about anticlimactic,” Dax said against the silent night.

  Katie stood in the middle of the cauldron then suddenly fell backward and disappeared into the ground.

  Allora yelled, crawling frantically to the edge of a deep hole. All she could see was a foggy mist escaping from the black void. “Give me the flashlight!” she yelled to Tanner. When he tossed her a Maglite from his bag, Allora shined it around, but the dust blocked any visibility. “I can’t see her! What do we do?” she cried.

  “We go after her,” Dax said, folding his arms.

  “Dax, wait!” Tanner yelled as Dax jumped into the hole. Tanner looked after him with a frightened yet determined stare. “He’s right. We didn’t come this far just to give up now,” he said, winking at Allora and dropping into the dark hole behind his friend.

  “You guys are crazy!” Allora yelled, but no one was there to hear her. She paced back and forth, debating about what she should do. “Right. Jump down into the creepy, dark hole, Allora. That sounds like a great idea,” she said out loud.

  After a few painful minutes of self-doubt, though, Allora took a deep breath, folded her arms, and plunged into the unknown. A rush of cold air blew her hair back as she fell through a circular tube, spinning around and picking up speed along the way. It smelled of Earth and mildew. Then, the surface of the tube angled itself toward her, and she felt herself sliding. The surface was completely smooth and slippery, as if she was on a waterslide, only there was no water. Her screaming continued as she rocketed through the dormant volcano. The tube bent, forcing a hard right turn, and Allora coiled around, moving at an alarming speed. All she could do was try to keep her body straight. The steep angle of the slide eventually leveled out, and she progressively slowed down. The end of the tube was just ahead, and someone caught her as she slowed to a stop. Her hair shot out in every direction from the wild ride, but her eyes glistened with hope and gratefulness when she saw Tanner standing there at the end of the tube.

  “Took you a while,” Tanner said, helping Allora to her feet.

  Allora smiled, happy to be alive. “I’m never doing that again.”

  Dax came bouncing over. “Are you kiddin’ me?” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “That was the best ride I’ve ever been on, and I didn’t even have to buy a ticket! I say we find our way out and go for another spin!”

  “Count me out,” Katie said, hugging her dizzy friend.

  “I thought you were a goner,” Allora said, embracing Katie.

  “That makes two of us,” she replied.

  Allora gazed around the large, circular room. It was the size of a high school gymnasium, covered entirely in reflective obsidian. The floor and ceiling were etched with intricate artwork, and in the middle, a stone basin, filled with flames, illuminated the room. Allora turned to Katie for an answer.

  “We did that,” Katie said, chuckling. “There was already oil in the basin, though my idiot brother thought it was water at first and took a sip.”

  “I was just checking to see what it was,” Dax argued, putting up his arms. “I was,” he said to Tanner while the girls walked up to the basin.

  “Right,” Tanner said. “I believe you.”

  The light from the fire bounced off the walls, creating dancing shadows, but the magnificence of the room was overshadowed by their next obstacle. Sixteen doors lined the walls of the circular room, precisely the same distance apart from one another. Above each doorway was a Roman numeral, carved into the black stone.

  Allora pulled out the parchment from inside her coat and unfolded it carefully to look at the back, holding it up in the light of the guys’ flashlights. “I guess the numbers on the back correlate with the Roman numerals on top of those doorways,” Allora said.

  “You guess?” Dax said. “Don’t you remember what it said? ‘Heed the warning of the path you take, for one false choice will be the last you make.’ My guess is it’s a bad idea to guess.”

  “We just need to think this through. The numbers are eight, five, three, two, one, one, zero,” Allora read out loud.

  “I’ve got it!” Dax said, much to everyone’s surprise. “We’re screwed.”

  Katie stepped to her brother and punched him on the shoulder. “You’re no help!”

  “Yeah, thanks, Dax,” Allora said. “Like we need the pessimism right now.”

  Meanwhile, Tanner was staring at the numbers intently. “Wait!” he suddenly said. “I’ve seen this exact arrangement of numbers before, in geometry class. This is a Fibonacci sequence.” He glanced up to see puzzled expressions on his friends’ faces. “Don’t any of you pay attention in math class?”

  “Ew. I hate math,” Allora said. “It’s my worst subject.”

  “I never really got along with my math teacher,” Katie said.

  “Don’t look at me,” Dax said, gesturing to himself and shrugging. “You know I suck at math.”

  Tanner could only smile and shake his head. “The answer is thirteen,” he said. “That’s the doorway we need to go through.”

  “How sure are you?” Allora asked.

  “About this sure,” Tanner replied, as he sauntered over to the black doorway and stepped backward as he smiled.

  “Why does everyone keep doing that?”

  Katie and Dax just shrugged.

  “Fine, but I’m not going last this time,” Allora said, following Tanner’s lead and stepping into the black doorway with her flashlight pointed in front of her. She felt a pulling force, as if every molecule in her body was being stretched, and then she landed on a flat stone surface. “That was… a portal,” Allora said between struggling breaths.

  She swiveled her head up to see a long cave of majestic, glowing blue, and her mouth dropped open. In the midst of such an unimaginable sight, she ignored the siblings, who arrived seconds later. She walked along the sides of the crystal-blue tunnel and felt the walls, only to realize the entire place was made of ice. The ceiling above curved in a half-circle; there was a wave pattern to it, as if the current had been frozen in time. The blue water around them seemed to radiate light.

  “The lake is… above us,” Tanner said. “But how is that possible?”

  “You tell me, Mr. Geometry,” Dax smarted off.

  As they walked slowly into the ice tunnel, the ground became rocky. They pushed forward, still gazing up at their surroundings, which were like nothing any of them had ever seen before. At one point, Allora saw a fish swim up to the cave wall, then dart away. Mist created an unusual ambiance throughout the cavern, and Allora felt a slight chill as they moved deeper into the tunnel. They walked about two hundred feet, until the blue ice opened up to a dark, expansive cave. Dax lit the torches that hung on the wall to either side of them, projecting light across a reflective surface. The floor was obsidian, but it was carefully arranged, like perfectly square tiles in a bathroom.

  Allora’s eyes rolled upward to the numerous sharp, pointed stalactites hanging above the cavern. In front of them was a large reflective section that wasn’t tiled like the rest. “Well? What do you think?” she said, stepping onto the different block of obsidian.

  “I’m not so sure we should walk out there just yet,” Tanner said, cautiously moving diagonally behind Allora.

  The expansive field of black tiles seemed too easy. A slight sheen reflected the flicker of light from the torches. Squinting, Allora tried to see across the expanse, but she had no luck, and there didn’t seem to be any way to go but forward. “What choice do we have?” she said, stepping onto the tile in front of her. “See? It’s no big deal,” she said over her shoulders to her friends behind her.

  Just as the words escaped her mouth, she felt a strong pull from behind. Allora was yanked backward as one of the stalactites shattered the tile she’d just been standing on. Tanner had seen the impending fall and was luckily able to grab the back of her shirt before the sharp tip of the calcium spear skewered the unsuspecting girl. “Whew! That was close,” Tanner said.


  Allora breathed heavily, feeling a chill run up her spine as she thought about what could have happened.

  “Yeah, you can say that again,” Dax said, staring down through the space where the tile had been. “Look!” He swirled his flashlight down through the hole. “Either it’s a long way down, or there are marshmallows at the bottom, because the thing still hasn’t even made a sound.”

  “‘One wrong move will send you deep,’” Katie said, hanging over her brother’s left shoulder. “Pretty literal with that one.”

  “Now what?” Allora said, still a little frazzled.

  “I think we should all run across at once,” Katie suggested. “Those things on the ceiling take a few seconds to fall. We can make it.”

  “But how do we get back across after we’re done?” Tanner argued.

  Katie scratched her head. “Didn’t really think about that.”

  “I saw something weird happen when you first stood there,” Dax said, moving toward the reflective surface Allora had started from before she stepped forward.

  “Watch my reflection,” he said, stepping onto the platform. Suddenly, Dax’s mirrored image split into many different ones, drawing gasps from his friends. The multiple reflections launched themselves forward in all directions, as if all the mini-Daxes had minds of their own.

  The other three moved closer.

  “See?” Dax said, twisting his head around. “I thought I was crazy at first, but I guess not.”

  “Which one do we follow?” Allora asked.

  “Do you guys remember Mr. Swan talking about Hermes?” Dax paused for a moment as his friends all looked at one another, dumbfounded. “You know, the messenger of the gods.”

  Still, no one had an answer.

  Dax shook his head. “Well, this guy had winged shoes that he used to fly around. The instructions say, ‘Be careful to step with winged feet,’ right?”

  “Right,” Allora said, nodding.

  “Well, if you look at that reflection of me,” he said, pointing to the tile diagonally to his left, “it has winged shoes.” Feeling confident with his theory, Dax stepped onto the tile.

  Everyone looked upward, half-expecting the stalactite to fall, but nothing happened. Dax kept following his winged reflection, hopping from tile to tile.

  Allora went next. She was about to step on the same tile as Dax, but she pulled up at the last second, noticing that her own winged reflection had jumped to the diagonal tile to her right, not the left, confusing her. “Hey, Dax,” she said.

  He stopped and spun around. “Yeah?”

  “My reflection went the other way, to the right.”

  Dax thought for a second. “The instructions are simple,” Dax said, jumping to the next tile. “Follow the winged you.”

  “All right, if you say so,” she said, stepping onto the right tile cautiously and glad to see that no stalactites plummeted in her direction.

  They’re paths diverged, sending them in random directions. The light of the torches dimmed as they reached the end of the tiles. Flipping on the flashlights, they saw the slight shape of a large doorway in the distance. As they walked closer, the wooden doors became clearer. Intricate drawings of warriors and gods were carved into them, with gold plating adorning the edges. Bulky copper rings the size of tires hung where the two doors met. Tanner and Dax each pulled a ring backward, straining their muscles from the weight. The hinges creaked loudly, as if they hadn’t been exercised in ages, and a cloud of dust burst from the opening crack between the doors.

  Allora walked forward, fanning the dusty air with her hand, then stepped into a grandiose room. Once their feet touched the strange yellow floor, small, round orbs lit up the room. Gigantic gold statues seemed to greet them as they entered, standing majestically, grand, and proud, like watchmen standing guard. Awestruck and fascinated, the teens proceeded slowly along the corridor. Behind them, normal-sized gold men were evenly spaced along the wall. Half were sunken into the wall, while the rest stood in full form, frozen, with long spears at their sides. Allora joined the others in the middle, and they all walked down the corridor together.

  “This is amazing,” Katie said, spinning in a circle. “I think I’ve found my new home.”

  “Can you imagine how long these took to make?” Tanner said, walking up to one of the giant golden statues to their right, a mostly naked bearded man holding a trident and wearing only a small, loose robe around his waist. Tanner took notice of his long beard and flowing hair. “This must be Poseidon.”

  “It took me an entire week just to make a stupid mug in pottery class,” Dax added.

  Allora was gawking at another statue that looked familiar, like something she’d seen in one of her history books.

  Katie came up behind her. “Well? Who is it?”

  The statue was of a woman with hair braided to the sides. She was dressed in a toga that came down to her lower thighs, and along her chest was a sash that held a quiver of arrows against her strong back. Her head was held high, and an expression of strength had been molded perfectly upon her face.

  “It has to be Artemis,” Allora said, touching the feet of the statue.

  Katie moved to the next statue, the goddess Demeter. She was dressed in an even longer, flowing toga, and there was a crown upon her head. A staff was angled up, held in Demeter’s grasp.

  “C’mere, guys!” Dax yelled. “This one’s got wings for feet,” he said, pointing at a thin, naked statue of a man wearing a helmet. “It’s gotta be Hermes.”

  Something caught Allora’s eye while they stood there. Turning to the left, she saw a light shining on a flat podium in the distance, and she slowly began to walk toward it, drawn to it like a bug to light.

  “Where are you going?” Katie asked.

  Allora didn’t say anything and only quickened her pace.

  Instantly, the other three forgot what they were doing and immediately ran after her.

  She slowed down, moving up the steps to the golden podium. It was spotlighted by an orb hanging in midair, high above. Allora stepped on the platform where the podium sat and looked upon it. Nothing was there but sand on a plain stone tablet, a humble artifact that seemed strangely out of place in the elegant, golden, sparkling room. The sand was piled in a pyramid and occasionally sparkled in the light of the hanging orb.

  “Where is it?” Tanner asked, moving up alongside Allora.

  Katie got up to the platform. “Maybe somebody else found it first.”

  “You mean we came all this way for nothing?” Dax shouted from below. “I say we go back and ride the slide again.”

  “Hush!” Katie scolded.

  Allora pulled out the parchment again, motioning everyone to be quiet. The instructions weren’t very specific, but she remembered the Latin word on the back. “Credo,” she said out loud.

  Nothing happened.

  “Great,” Dax said, storming off to one of the golden men on the wall. “We do all that work to get here and have nothing to show for it.”

  Allora ignored him and kept thinking, wondering why it hadn’t work. Did I miss something? The questions swirled around in her mind, but there didn’t seem to be any clear answer. The harder she thought, the farther away her mind traveled.

  Meanwhile, Dax was busy trying to yank one of the golden spears free.

  “What are you doing?” Katie said, descending the stairs to yell at her brother.

  “What does it look like?” he said, pulling at the golden spear.

  “That isn’t yours!” Katie crossed her arms.

  “I did not steal a boat, ride a crazy waterless waterslide, and play stalactite hopscotch to go home empty-handed,” Dax said, pausing momentarily. “Think of it as a souvenir.”

  “That’s it!” Allora said softly, dropping the parchment. “I believe.” She placed her hands, palms up, over the tablet and closed her eyes. They all looked at her like she was crazy, but Allora didn’t care. Somehow, she knew what she had to do. In a whisper, she said, “Cre
do, credo, credo, credo.” She repeated the word over and over again.

  Dax ignored the group and went back to prying the spear from the golden man’s grasp.

  Allora kept her eyes shut and kept repeating the word, imagining what she sought. Her hands began to glow as the hadrons in the room flowed into her body. All of a sudden, the sand from the tablet began to filter through the gaps between Allora’s fingers, and even more of it relocated to the air over the palms of Allora’s hands. The sand hovered an inch above, distributing itself into a glowing circle, spinning into a core like gravity forming a new planet. Particles of sand condensed into a ball, and then the whole thing caught on fire and released a powerful burst of light that quickly expanded throughout the chamber. The light withdrew, speeding back into the core, imploding into a solid ball of black rock.

  “I got it!” Allora said, holding up an orb of obsidian.

  They heard a loud clank.

  “I got it too!” Dax said, holding up his prize.

  Just then, a decrepit skeletal hand burst out of its golden shell and grabbed Dax by the wrist. Dax promptly screamed like a girl and dropped the golden spear, then moved back to the platform while the creature started to break through his gold casing. A deafening screech came from the former statue. Suddenly, all around them, the golden men were breaking from their metallic prisons. The creatures looked like skeletons, except they had translucent skin with a slight shimmer. In their eye sockets were glowing red, pulsating fiery eyes. They seemed neither alive nor dead.

  “I told you not to touch it!” Katie said, backing into the platform.

  Golden shards crashed onto the floor, echoing loudly throughout the chamber.

  Securing the orb inside her coat, Allora prepared herself for a fight. “Baykok,” she said, fascinated by the weird creatures. “Mr. Swan told me about them.”

  “Uh, we don’t really have time for a Sonoran biology lesson,” Tanner said, pulling Allora, and jumping down to join the others. “Run!”

  Gold spear flew across their path as they sprinted down the long corridor. The army of baykok had freed themselves from the golden casings and were quickly pursuing the intruders. Allora shot a purple hadron burst, knocking one of the creatures into the statue of Poseidon. At the edge of the large wooden double doors, two baykok stood in their path, blocking their escape. Allora rotated a hundred-eighty degrees, then shot two purple balls into the creatures’ chests. Both baykok flew back, striking the half-open wooden doors, crumpling into a pile of bones. They hurried across the dark cavern, the beams of light bouncing erratically as they got to the edge of the tiled flooring.