Coralis continued his show of displeasure, hacking like a cat bringing up a fur ball, wiping his tongue with a napkin. Henry stifled a laugh, unsure of Coralis’s mood but picking up a bit of mischief in the old man’s face. “Bahtzen bizzle?” Henry asked.

“Indeed, young man!” Coralis laughed. “But watch your tongue. There are ladies present.”

Grandma Gailene led them into the restaurant, where the hostess nodded a playful smile at Coralis, who winked and said, “Touché.”

The tables were three-quarters occupied, every patron clearly of Navajo descent and mostly men. They wore flannel shirts, rugged jeans, and wide-brimmed hats. Henry’s stares were answered with barely perceptible sideways glances. He recalled what Grandma Gailene said about a rare invitation and suddenly understood. This was a place for locals, not tourists. And whatever kinship Henry felt for this place, he was at best a newcomer and at worst an outsider. He was suddenly self-conscious.

They walked to the rear of the restaurant and entered the kitchen, where cooks ignored them as if they were merely pots and pans sitting on a stove top. Tucked into the back corner was a door. A thick oaken door surrounded by runes and ancient symbols. A door Henry recognized from an underground cemetery in New York City.

Coralis grunted in satisfaction. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.” He studied the symbols. “This is no common entrance. There is sacred ground beyond this point.”

Grandma Gailene motioned for him to continue, and he raised a wand and lightly touched symbols in each of the four corners. The door latch popped. Coralis opened the door and stepped through.

Henry swallowed hard as he crossed the threshold—hesitant and unsure of himself. Coralis’s words of wisdom came back to him: No one is ever ready for the odd and unusual turns of life. It made him feel a little better.

The first flight of stairs ended in a basement the likes of which he expected to see in a restaurant. Cans of food lined shelves along one wall, while boxes of cleaning supplies were stacked along another. But he could sense there was more to this space than met the eye.

Coralis advanced to the center of the room and withdrew another wand—weathered and off-white, slender, with several knobby protrusions. Henry gasped as he realized it was a bone. Coralis whispered over it and the bone glowed with a subtle green hue. “Green,” he said curiously. “This should be interesting.”

Before Henry could ask what he meant, Coralis laid the bone wand down and flicked it into a spin. It slowly gained momentum, but once it got going, it quickly morphed into a circular blur. Directly beneath it, the floor began to change, smooth concrete turning to dust. The diameter widened by a foot.