into the cave and vowed to toss out all her Indiana Jones movies when this hair-brained adventure was over. Such movies had made her boring childhood more tolerable, and inspired her current career, but they’d also made her think hiking into the wilderness of North Dakota alone wasn’t a completely insane thing to do to prove a damn theory.
“This is absolutely not insane,” Sugar informed the dank walls. “This is my journey to fame and fortune. I am here to find it.”
Sugar didn’t know why no one before her had bothered to track down the Third Cave Of The Beringians. If she was right about the cave having been trapped in a glacier for ages—and Sugar was reasonably sure she was—her footsteps were the first to disturb the ancient dust on the cave floor in tens of thousands of years. Excitement over that fact didn’t make the cave any less creepy though, but it did give Sugar the motivation needed to press on.
She’d drawn the map to the cave herself from clues she’d found in about a hundred different books. One of Athena the Ancient’s blades was hidden here—she just knew it was.
Her instincts were singing despite the fact that she hadn’t managed to unearth any conclusive evidence.
Tales of Athena’s existence read like Homer’s stories of the mythical Ulysses. Athena was a legendary metal-smith from Earth’s ancient pre-history who had allegedly merged organic matter with metallic substances and bestowed some sort of sentience in the weapon once done.
Why had a technological genius focused on such a thing? Honestly, Sugar had no idea.
Only a computer geek living in his mother’s basement would find the whole “sentient blade” thing as fascinating as she did. There was no way to explain Athena the Ancient without the story sounding like science fiction instead of actual history to anyone that heard it.
Maybe she was crazy for coming alone, but she practically could hear the Smithsonian-worthy artifact calling to her inside her head. “Sugar,” it whispered. “Come find me.” She’d definitely come too far to back out now.
Oh, she knew hearing the artifact speaking in her head was utter nonsense. Maybe her energy was dipping low after her four-mile-hike to get to the cave. Sugar stopped walking and wondered if she should eat the protein bar in her coat pocket before continuing.
She tucked her flashlight under her arm to free her hands which ended up tilting the beam down to the dirt floor. Her action made the top of cave darker and that’s when she saw it. Up ahead, a soft light glowed in the cave’s stark blackness.
Was she having a hallucination?
There was always the possibility that she was sniffing some underground chemical seeping into the cave. Maybe she was getting high on chemical fumes or ancient carbon dioxide.
A few more steps forward took her far enough into the interior to totally lose the light from the cave opening behind her. Squinting at something ahead in the dark, Sugar fought the sudden apprehension she felt and bravely turned off her flashlight.
Her heartbeat picked up speed when the cave ceiling glowed golden.
What else could be glowing in the ancient cave? It had to be the artifact.
Flipping on her flashlight again, Sugar inched forward following the beam now.
“Sugar.” The artifact whispered her name… and then did it a second time.
Cold chills covered her arms even through all the layers of clothing she’d worn for her hike.
Standing next to her discovery now, Sugar could see the outline of a box. The cover was definitely emitting light of some sort.
She turned her flashlight off again and bent to carefully set it on the cave floor. She also slipped her heavy hiking pack off and did the same with it.
“Sugar.”
This time her name vibrated in the air. Her imagination had suddenly developed a deep voice and had obviously gone native on her.
Maybe she should have gone to college in the North instead of staying home in the South. Absolutely nothing Sugar had studied for either of her degrees had covered any of this.
A talking artifact that recognized her was way too strange for her to take seriously. It had to be the result of bad air in the cave. Next time she went artifact hunting, she was bringing an oxygen tank and a breathing mask.
“Ignore the voices. Keep to the plan,” Sugar ordered her questioning mind.
Channeling Indiana Jones and his fictional bravery once more, she inspected the resting place of the glowing box. For a brief moment, she wished she was