“You did very well for your first ride,” Joseph assured him. Henry mumbled a thank-you, then noticed an earthen mound that nearly blended in with the base of the Skinny Elephant. The mound was some kind of structure, for it had an open doorway—and a woman stood within it. From where he stood, she could have been a carving made from driftwood, until she raised a hand in greeting to Joseph.

Joseph returned the gesture, but then he led Henry in the opposite direction. “Does that woman actually live out here?” he asked Serena.

“Yes, she does. Do you see that structure?” Serena asked. “That is her hogan. It is the traditional living quarters of the Navajo people—made from mud but very sturdy. Someday I will show you the inside of one. But not now. There is no time.”

They hurried toward a seam in the elephant’s leg, where Joseph was already waiting. He once again performed his magic, revealing a concealed entrance to yet another tunnel. This one, however, appeared to be man-made, as it was lined with timber support beams. Joseph must have noticed Henry’s puzzled look. “This is an abandoned mine shaft,” he explained. “Not so many years ago, our people mined precious minerals on this land. This shaft was quickly closed when tribal elders heard about it, however. You will soon see why.”

They proceeded into the darkness and turned a corner, which cut off the remaining light from outside. Coralis and Joseph reached for their wands, but not before Henry gave off a little moonglow of his own. He heard Serena gasp. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it when we visit that hogan,” he said, trying to deflect his embarrassment by impressing her.

A short distance later they once again hit a dead end of solid rock. “This is why we closed the mine, Henry.” Joseph began to hum, a sound that seemed to amplify within the rock. Stone walls flickered like a holographic projection switching off. The area beyond the wall was cloaked in pitch-darkness until Coralis and Joseph tapped their wands against the rock to either side of the doorway.

The cave responded by coming to life. A bluish-green iridescent glow spread quickly around the room—for that’s what it was, a room, more square than round. The ceiling extended about twice Coralis’s height, rising slightly in the center like a dome. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, holding ancient bound volumes. Petroglyphs lined the other walls, elaborate scenes of life and death in incredible detail. It was awe-inspiring. But there was a warmth to the space as well. The kind that made you feel like a guest in a stranger’s cozy home.