The Last Phoenix- Book 1 of the Legends of Henge Series

Chapter 12

Harper Magdalena

My grandma gently shook me awake. I wasn't sure when I'd fallen asleep but I know that every minute I'd been awake I'd been homesick. I'd never been away from home or my parents for more than a couple of days.

This was a whole new experience for me.

But I knew that I had to do it. It wasn't as if I'd never see my parents again. "Come on, get up," my grandmother ordered. "We're nearly there." That woke me up in an instant. I looked out the window in excitement.

My vision was met with a small parking lot in the woods. We were parked in front of a trail with a sign that said "The Devil's Kettle- Foot Travel Only".

I sighed, making my way to the door but my grandmother stopped me. "We wait for them," she stated cryptically. At this point, I was fine with whatever.

It was about fifteen minutes before anything happened. A small jeep with two people in the front came hurdling down the path. They got out quickly and approached our vehicle. "We'll have to be rather quick. You can keep your truck parked here but you can't bring it with you," one explained. I got my baggage from the back and slung my guitar over my shoulder.

The air was different that Arizona. It was colder for one, but it also wasn't as dry and I felt a thread of longing spiral through my stomach.

The two people- a man and a woman strongly smelling of the woods- helped me load my bags onto the jeep. They were quick with their movements, showing their haste in their practiced hands.

We shuffled into the back two seats on the jeep, squeezing to fit. My grandmother stared stony face into the distance and no one offered any conversation to break the silence.

After a little bit, we pulled up beside what looked like a fifty foot waterfall. Looking closer, I saw it split in two and the second half disappeared into a black hole. I followed the two people to the edge of the river.

There was a stranged boat tied up to a rock, with heavy duty seat belts on it. There were six seats and six paddles. The man took the cushion off of one of the seats and stuffed my baggage underneath. He put my guitar in the next seat.

"Sit down, and hold onto the sides firmly," the woman ordered. There was hardly any water at this point in the river, just a lot of black rock with ferocious water speeding past.

The man pushed off from the shore and the two immediately started scraping their paddles across the floor of the river towards the hole where the second half of the river disappeared.

I realized too late and felt a scream welling up in my throat as we tumbled through the opening and into the abyss. Were they trying to kill us?

And suddenly we were on an underground river, dimly lit from the hole far above us. The water crashed over the sides, drenching me and my grandmother. The two people in front seemed to know just the way to turn so as not to get wet.

The waters jolted us back and forth but I recognized man made mechanics shining with water around us. I saw figures in the distance, people standing by the river's edge.

"What are-"

"Waiting for ping pong balls," the woman said gruffly. We went through some kind of gate and the boat gently hit the side of the underground cave, before the man quickly jumped from the boat and tied it up again. I helped my grandmother from the raft and felt my way up the slick rock slope.

"We have to take you to through the Innercity first," the woman explained, handing me my guitar case, which was thankfully dry.

"Does this city have a name?" my grandmother questioned.