STILETTO PAIN.
Harsh, ripping, stretching. Pulling my body in all directions, like dough.
My vision blurred. I felt my fingertips a mile below my toes, my knees behind my head. I blinked and felt a shot of electricity carom through my brain, which now felt as if it were the size of a football field.
I was neither standing nor falling. I saw only white-yellow, the color of the tendrils and bubbling mass at the bottom of the crevice.
Words echoed and overlapped, building into shrieks, sobs, and babbles. Some were mine, some Ariana’s and Jason’s.
But most of the voices were completely unfamiliar, shifting in and out of English with the fury of a cyclone. I tried to cover my ears, but I couldn’t tell where my hands were.
Then, without warning, the voices stopped.
I felt my body snap together like a rubber band. I still saw nothing, and I lurched about like a leaf on the wind.
But my fear was disappearing now. I felt peace covering me, massaging me. I began to soar, forgetting about anyone but myself. Soon all my thoughts seemed to be swallowed up, and I was in a state of blissful emptiness.
You’re early.
I didn’t exactly hear the words. They seemed to plant themselves inside me, in some mental place I’d never been before. I tried to move my mouth, but I couldn’t feel it. Instead I thought the question Where am I?
A small giggle was the response. Then, The omphalos, daddy-o. Try that on for size.
The voice — if you could call it that — was male. Young, too, as if it belonged to someone my age.
Where’s my friend? I thought.
Silence. Mumbling. And then another, older, male voice: He was needed.
And me? I asked. I’m needed, too?
In a different way, David, answered someone distinctly female. First, go back. Your task is to find out who we are. If you do, you will earn your place.
What if I don’t?
I felt a low, agitated rumble.
We’ve delivered all we can of the message, the female answered. Now, go.
Wait a minute —
The first voice cut me off: Do it. Dig?
And then a hand grabbed my arm, and the floating stopped. So did the voices. I heard screaming, muffled at first, and then piercing.
I was yanked upward, and found myself sprawled on a dirt floor.
When I looked up, the mist had become thin. I could make out the basement walls.
“David?”
Ariana was gaping at me, her face streaked with black, sooty tears.
“Whoa … ” I said. “What just happened?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “But it turned your hair white.”