I wondered how long it had taken the acidic water to hollow out this cavern or to form the many rock doorways and the channels I imagined beyond them. Or was it all made this way originally by a master artist wanting to enjoy his handiwork, a living artwork that looked different today than it had last week? The fact that it was illuminated reminded me of paintings and sculptures in an art gallery—apparently the artist wanted men to enjoy his handiwork. I did.

We sat and absorbed the wonder, spending two hours exploring and pointing. “Look! Over here!” someone would call, and we’d all come over.

“What’s that? Help!” Victoria screamed, waving her arms. I rushed over as two bats dive-bombed her. I swatted at them, laughing.

“It’s not funny,” she said, straightening her hair, then laughing herself.

Shad led the way to the back of the cave, which lowered and narrowed. The farther back into the cave we went, the darker it became. Fifty feet ahead of us now was a wide, darkened area where the ceiling gathered much closer to the floor. It was mouth shaped, with the dripstones above and the spires below giving the effect of jagged teeth.

“Looks like you’re leading us right into the jaws,” I said to Shad. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Shad said nothing—his lack of assurances and the uncertain look on his face unnerved me.

A half-dozen caves, ranging from three to eight feet tall, were cut into the back wall. “It’s probably a system,” Malaiki said. “A network of caves connected by passages and tunnels. It may not matter which we go in first—and even if it does, there’s no way to know.”

Shad took out his TravelGuide, examined the maps and directions, and we discussed it. We finally chose the second cave from the right, leading into a tunnel about four feet high.

“I’ll take up the rear,” I said, as if it were an act of bravery. I heard my voice crack and hoped no one else did. I stretched my neck for one last look at daylight. Then I turned to face the darkness. I swallowed hard. I saw no phosphorescence. It was damp and pitch-black, like a tomb. Frodo was uneasy. He wasn’t the only one.

Within an hour the tunnel was even narrower, and I couldn’t stand at all, even bent over. The best I could do was squat once in a while to get relief from crawling on my hands and knees. I dragged my sack of stones behind me. The tunnel grew very narrow, like a labyrinth. I smelled wet, sweaty fabric, like a locker room right after a game. I felt something brush my face. Cobwebs? It seemed unlikely. I trembled and pushed on, feeling more and more closed in.