One Great Year (53 page)

“Sir, it's the prisoners,” the guard said, in Spanish.

“What is it?” the stout man said. The creamy sauce from his dinner had gotten stuck in his moustache, and at any other time his cohort would have laughed.

“The prisoners haven't been eating or drinking and …”

“A protest?”

“No sir, there's more. We wouldn't have noticed, but when Eduardo put his guitar down next to the fire … well … it kept playing. The ground was vibrating so much that the strings … sang,” he said, searching for words.

Full from his meal, the stocky boss heaved himself out of his comfortable chair. “I didn't feel anything. It's not vibrating now,” the captain reassured. He was not the superstitious type. Ghost stories would not get the best of
him
.

“But it is. Listen,” the nervous guard said, and sure enough the twang of the open notes could be heard. The guitar lay on the ground, abandoned, and five armed killers stood staring fearfully from a distance.

“Maybe a small avalanche? Prepare to go below!” the leader ordered.

It had been Zahn's directive that none of the captives be harmed unless it was absolutely necessary. The prisoners had been no threat, no problem, and the guards had paid little attention to them.

They hadn't counted on what they would see when they entered the bunker.

Seven hours earlier, Eden, Quinn, Nate, and six of the other Emissaries had slipped the bonds of their captives unnoticed. The runaways had no idea that as they contended with their own troubles beyond the bunker, the guards were raiding the prison they had left behind.

As promised, Nate had somehow found the location of the gateway. He had been certain he was standing at the place where it once had been, though the ground and walls on the southern corner of the holding area had shown no sign of ingress. The foundation was solid. There was no hollow reverberation, no loose stone, no hint of a possible exit.

One of the Crystal Children, a four-year-old girl with blonde curls and a yellow T-shirt, had moved toward the confounded threesome and begun singing. It was then that their eyes had perceived a slight change in the wall.

The child hadn't learned the strange hum, she had simply known it. In her crib as a baby it had first come to her, and year by year it came more clearly.

The girl had been drawn to the corner, and as she had sung—without words, only clear, melodious notes—something amazing had happened. She was joined by five other Crystal Children of varying ages, and they had united in her unusual song. As they had sung, the wall before them had begun to move. The smooth, polished stone of the barrier had divided and shifted, like a bird rustling its feathers and opening to take flight. The partition had shaken and, as the dust settled, an archway and tunnel had become visible—but not to everyone.

“I knew it was here!” Nate had hooted happily.

“It's miraculous,” Eden had marveled.

“It must have been here all along, we just couldn't see,” Quinn had answered.

The six young Crystal Children had continued their song, and before anyone could stop them, the fearless little ones had entered the darkness. Eden had hesitated to follow and had looked to Quinn for counsel.

Meanwhile, life in the large room had continued unchanged. The Emissaries and other captives had remained completely oblivious, grouped in various stages of meditation, prayer, conversation, and rest.

Eden was shocked that other people did not seen the gaping portal. “But they're all Emissaries, why don't they see? Surely we're all meant to escape from here,” she had proclaimed, staring at the archway and worried for the young ones who had already entered.

“It is not their course, and it is not for us to decide. There must be a reason so few are at a frequency to see this gateway,” Quinn had surmised. “Who opened this portal when you were last here, Nate? Do you remember?”

“I don't know. I recall a tangle of paths, like the roots of an ancient tree. I think we have a long journey ahead of us.”

“We can't just leave the others behind. We can't just disappear! What if Elijah's brought here?” Eden had said, horrified at the prospect of abandoning the Crystal Children she had innocently helped to lure there.

“Elijah won't be coming here, Eden,
that
I can guarantee. Helghul is far too important to Grey Eld…”

“Don't call him that! I know what you think, I know who he's been … but he's my son! He's my
baby
and I won't give up on him as long as I have breath left in
this
body! Not as long as
I am his mother!
”

“Of course you won't and I won't either,” Quinn had promised, taking her shaking body into his arms. “I
do
understand the love of a mother for her child. As you've told me many times, there is always choice … we can hope … we can help Elijah choose the Light,” Quinn soothed. “But first, we have to find him.”

“You think this leads to my son?” Eden had asked, her eyes flashing toward the wall.

“I think it opened to us for a reason, and Hel … your son is as good a reason as any.”

Nate, who had been silently listening to the pair, had interjected urgently, “We need to go quickly. The children are gone and this passage could disappear any second.”

“Not yet. Come help me,” Quinn had said.

For weeks he had been teaching the secrets of the Unity Grid to the captives, just as he had once taught the children in Atitala. When the portal had opened, he had immediately recognized that the time for the joining had come.

Once gathered, the group had built their human web, conjuring the kaleidoscope of colors and energy in the air above them, just below the copper ceiling. It hadn't taken long. The Emissaries' powers had grown intense. By the time Eden, Nate, and Quinn passed through the portal, the Unity Grid had been in youthful bloom in the air above the peaceful Emissaries. The Emissaries were doing their part.

Once Quinn, Nate, and Eden had passed through the portal, the stone wall had sealed itself behind them. Turning back was not an option. The six Crystal Children had disappeared deep within, but there was nothing to fear in the tunnels of Shambhala; or was there?

Once the gateway disappeared, they saw that the walls of the tunnels were lit by glowing crystals.

Nate directed them forward. “This way, I think,” he said uncertainly, as the paths split from two into three, then five, then eight.

“Where will we come out?” Eden asked, feeling simultaneously hesitant and exhilarated.

“I'm as lost as you are, but I keep thinking of Egypt … I know how crazy that sounds,” Nate replied.

“More crazy than doors appearing and disappearing? I think these tunnels lead everywhere. You were right, Nate. They're like the roots of the world. We need to use our intuition and believe we will end up where we are meant to,” Quinn said.

“We don't know where we're meant to be!” Nate protested. “I'm not sure what I got us into.”

The threesome didn't speak again for a few minutes as they proceeded through the passage. Eden screamed just as Nate turned to speak again. Before anyone knew what was happening, she fell. A gap had suddenly opened up in the floor between them and, with a gust of wind, she dropped into it. The tips of Eden's hair brushed through Quinn's outstretched fingers as she disappeared. He tried to follow her, but the floor closed up as magically as it had opened, and his knees and elbows slammed violently against solid stone as he dove after her.

“Theron!” he cried in anguish, his legs smarting from the impact.

Nate stared in disbelief. “Oh my God! What's going on? What's happening?”

“Theron,” Quinn whimpered, his forehead pressed against the solid ground.

Nate paced back and forth around his splayed companion. “There must be a trigger,” he supposed, doubling back, over and over.

Desperately searching, Quinn ran his hands frantically along the smooth floor.

After about ten minutes of panic and pacing, Nate finally spoke again. “We have to keep moving,” he nervously counseled.

“I promised I'd never leave her,” Quinn said miserably. “Why does this always happen?”

“I don't know, man, but she's not coming back the way she left. We can't just sit here, we have to go on.”

“You're right. I know you're right,” Quinn said desolately, getting to his feet.

“Do you hear that?” Nate asked nervously. A low grumble had become audible. “Earthquake?” he guessed.

Quinn knew better. “We gotta move! We could be in trouble,” he said.

The path continued to wind and twist, and Nate led the way.

“Just follow your gut. There's a reason you're here, Nate, a reason you are always there to guide me. I need you to believe in yourself,” Quinn assured. The grumbling had grown significantly louder, and it was clear now that it was a growl. It was the deep, resonating snarl of a large creature. “We need to get as far away from here as possible.”

“Or as close,” Nate countered bravely. “Maybe they're trying to scare us away from something, a passage that we need to take. As much as I hate to admit it, my instincts are telling me to go directly toward it.”

“Oh shit, you're kidding me,” Quinn said heavily.

“I wish,” Nate said, shaking his head and heading toward the sound.

The tunnels were chiseled into solid, multi-veined stone. Crystals lit the way as the path ahead of them branched in eight different directions.

“This one,” Nate stammered nervously, pointing at a darkened path that was narrower and lower than the others. Sinister cries echoed from within it, growing in number and volume. The reverberation ignited their biological responses as their adrenaline surged. They descended deeper into the damp earth.

As his blood pounded in his ears, Marcus thought only about Theron. Where was she now? Lost? In danger? What if he died? How would he help her then?

“Here it comes!” Nate shouted. “Holy shit!”

An enormous beast, resembling a male lion but twice its thickness and muscle mass, was upon them. Its giant head swung side to side as its loud, hollow breathing echoed menacingly through the tunnel.
Huff … Huff … Huff
, the men heard, and felt. The sound, so near, so calm and so deliberate, was far more frightening than the howls had been. The beast aggressively tossed its mane, which was twisted in tight loops and knots, rattling the studded, armored cuff around its neck and chest. It snarled, bearing its lethal fangs. The fur on its neck bristled and spiked like barbs.

“I've heard of these things, Nate. They're the Guardians of the outer Grid,” Quinn shouted.

The Guardian looked more horrible than he had ever imagined, and its glowing eyes flared like hellfire in the dim light. Nate backed directly against Quinn, and the wicked creature crept closer. The rancid odor of decay that clung to it choked them. Its shoulders were almost the height of the low ceiling, and its massive head was extended forward on its outstretched neck.

Nate was reminded of the shishi lions he had seen so many times in his travels through Asia, their giant stone paws resting possessively on the sphere representing the world and the Grid. He knew there was no time to waste; the lions were almost always depicted in pairs.

As the monster approached, there was a
click, click, click
of extended claws on the stone floor, each nail as thick as an ivory tusk. They could not flee. The Guardian would surely be on them, ripping out their insides in an instant. And in the distance, another deep grumble resonated.

Suddenly, Nate knew what he must do. He saw an opening. Without another thought the guide shouted, “You must get through!”

“No!” Quinn bellowed, but it was too late.

Nate sprinted directly past the front of the Guardian down one of the branching tunnels. With a fierce pounce, it took the bait. “Run!” Nate screamed.

Quinn paused, not wanting to leave his friend, but he knew it was a lost cause. The beast was on Nate easily. He had ducked under its chin and wrapped his arms around its banded throat. It was too strong. It shook him free and was on him, razor sharp claws pinning him beneath its weight. It was certain death. Without weapons, Quinn and Nate had been completely defenseless.

It could not be for nothing! Nate's sacrifice must not be for nothing! Quinn bolted through the gap that had opened as the Guardian had been distracted. He must escape. Nate's valor could not be in vain.

Quinn ran until his lungs burned and his sides ached in sharp knots. The beast's hideous roars echoed in his ears. Turn, turn, branch off, and turn. Nate had been only a brief distraction. Quinn could hear the beast close behind him, or perhaps it was another. How many more would there be? He hadn't considered this when they had chosen to leave the safety of their prison bunker.