“I’ll join you soon,” he said. “Really.” He turned and knelt down, resuming his urgent project.

On the other side of the town we found the rusty hues of tiger lilies on the south side and the comforting sound of a brook on the north. Straight ahead of us, perhaps four days’ journey, was a broad, gray, snowless mountain the red road seemed to lead directly into. Farther to the south stood a profusion of wild peaks, including three shark-fin crags, casting eerie shadows. Near them was a single mountain that looked like a melted vanilla ice cream cone, soft and sagging, dripping on the edges. I had thought I’d never want to climb a mountain again, yet here I was, my heart tugged toward adventure and exploration—a stark contrast to my years spent on a recliner in the evenings, my biggest adventure punching the remote control.

We traveled this beautiful terrain for three days, passing no one on the road. Finally, nearing the gray mountain, we met an entourage with somber faces, each wearing dark, formal clothes.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To a funeral. Our friend died.”

“All men do,” Shad said. “But that makes it no easier, does it?”

“He was so young,” an old woman said.

“He had great plans,” a young man said.

“Yes, we’ll miss him,” she said. “I always thought I’d die before dear Alec.”

The red road led straight into the side of the gray mountain, a protruding, hollowed-out rock formation serving as an archway. It looked like a monstrous eye socket with a pitch-black hole in the middle. The closer we got, the more uneasy I felt. Ancient rock carvings surrounded the black hole, presumably a cave. On the archway were pictographs, prehistoric drawings suggesting this cave had been used for ages. Were these mute testimony to those whose journey ended here in a rock grave?

The longer I gazed at it, the more confused I felt. Why did the red road not go around or over the hillside? Why did it lead into this foreboding darkness?

Shad opened his GuideBook and looked at the maps. I opened mine and pored over it. I didn’t understand everything I read, and I didn’t like what I understood.

“We must enter this cave,” Shad said, “and the tunnel it leads to.”

“I don’t want to go into a cave,” Victoria said. Her voice shook, suggesting she’d had a bad experience in another cave.

“The King doesn’t ask our opinion,” Shad said. “It’s not subject to popular vote.”

I checked the GuideBook again and reluctantly agreed—this was the way it said we should go.