Chapter 2: Riddles in the Heart of the Pyramid
Chapter 2: The Riddle Corridor and the Ogre’s Challenge
The torchlit tunnel narrowed and twisted so wildly, Grace was certain someone—or something—kept shifting the corridors behind their backs. Steps became ramps and then spirals. One moment, the walls rose smooth as glass; the next, they prickled with frescos that shimmered when Ette glided near, glowing pale green. Plush, clinging to Grace’s backpack, pointed his plushy nose at every changing shadow. “I keep seeing faces in the stones. D’you think they’re watching?”
Ette somersaulted in slow motion through the dust motes. “Perhaps they’re remembering. Pyramids never forget.”
Grace grimaced as her finger traced a swirling carving—a parade of ancient travelers, some riding camels, others with odd hats shaped like sunflowers or moons. “Or maybe warning us what not to do?”
A gust of wind—no, a sigh—brushed past, carrying a hint of cinnamon and cold. The passageway rounded a final corner, depositing them before a barricade of immense, stone sphinxes. Each statue crouched catlike, massive paws crossed, their eyes flashing with emerald fire. When Grace moved, the gems turned to follow her with hypnotic focus.
Plush squeaked, “Are… are they friendly?”
One sphinx blinked, slow as centuries, and spoke with a voice made of thunderwhispers: “For those who chase what glitters, illusions abound. Only those who answer truly may pass.”
Another sphinx, her maw curled in a regal smirk, intoned: “This is your trial: What is gold but brighter, lost in sand but lights the night?”
A hush fell. The question echoed, stretching into the vast, shadowy corridor behind them.
Ette did a thinking-lap midair. “Could be the sun!”
“Or a lantern dropped by a treasure-hunter?” Plush offered. The sphinxes did not move.
Grace considered the riddle, staring at the mosaics behind the statues—strange patterns shimmered there, birds and stars tangled through lines of swirling paint. She tried: “A star?”
At that, the statues snorted. Suddenly, a warm, swirling sandstorm erupted from between their paws! Cotton-dry grains whipped through the tunnel, lifting Plush nearly entirely off his feet so that he looked like a chubby, furry dandelion. Ette’s form blurred like a painting in the rain, his colors swirling. When the blizzard subsided, everyone’s hair (or fur, or shimmering body) crackled with static. Grace giggled despite herself. “You look like you hugged a thundercloud.”
Plush, eyes wide and fur at end, managed a heroic grin. “Adventure… hair?”
“Try again,” rumbled the first sphinx. “The answer burns within.”
Grace’s gaze slid again over the carvings. There—a clutch of symbols, painted in shimmering gold: a lion’s mane, a heart, a flame, a burst of sunbeams… and the word she’d traced so often in her own notebook. Courage.
Her cheeks flushed with warmth as she stepped forward. “It’s courage. Brighter than gold, unseen in sand, but it’s what lights up every dark night.”
The sphinxes exchanged glances—silent, proud, and—were those tiny smiles? All at once, they rose as if powered by the ancient wind, paws sweeping an invisible path. The corridor behind them unfurled like a giant scroll, revealing a spiral staircase descending through veils of cool blue shadow.
“Travelers of courage,” the sphinxes echoed, “may now climb (or tumble, or float) to what is lost and must be found.”
Ette hovered at Grace’s side, beaming in awe. “Well reasoned! If sphinxes ever need a crossword solved, I’ll recommend you.”
“Thanks—though I hope their clues don’t include surprise sand baths,” said Grace, shaking out her hair.
The staircase was carved from glowing onyx tiles, each step humming gently underfoot. As they spiraled downward, the air thickened with coolness. The humid quiet was broken only by the drip of hidden water—echoing, ancient, and oddly calming. At the bottom awaited a mural, stretching two stories high and painted with fierce, swirling lines. It showed a daring heist: a shadowy Ogre, huge and broad-shouldered, clutching the Golden Idol in one hand while the other scattered puzzle pieces and locked doors in his wake. In the corner, frightened explorers cowered behind shields, while tiny streaks of light slipped by—almost invisible.
Plush sidled up close. “Do you think that’s the same Ogre? He looks… a bit less mean in paint.”
“It says he built these puzzles to protect something precious—but also to make sure only the bravest and most imaginative would reach it,” Grace read from a flowing script beneath the mural.
“A test of heart as much as mind,” Ette translated thoughtfully, tracing a glowing finger along the wall.
The next chamber was unlike anything before: a slender bridge of glassy, blue stones hovered over what seemed—impossibly—to be a bottomless chasm swirling with illusions: flocks of birds that turned into clouds, rivers running uphill, doors dissolving into stars. Each step made the tiles beneath their feet change color, humming with stored sunlight.
Halfway across the bridge, the air wobbled. Out of the swirling haze emerged the Ogre himself—gigantic but not at all clumsy, with a grin both sly and a little lonely. His laughter rattled the bridge but made no stones fall.
“Travelers!” he boomed, “You have come far, but no one passes who hides their truest self. Share a secret, and you may go on. Hide, and back to the sand with you!”
Plush hugged Grace’s ankle, trembling just a bit. He blinked large, brave button eyes. “I’ll go first…” His plush cheeks pinked. “Sometimes I’m afraid you’ll leave me behind, Grace. I worry new adventures mean… new friends, not me.”
Grace, heart swelling, knelt and scooped Plush into her arms. “Never!” she said fiercely. “You’re my bravest friend.”
The Ogre nodded, voice softer. “And you, explorer?”
Grace bit her lip, feeling the weight of the golden pyramid pressing down. “Sometimes… I pretend I’m fearless. But I get scared too—especially of not being good enough. But then I remember, it’s okay not to know everything. As long as I try.”
The Ogre’s gaze shifted to Ette. The Extraterrestrial hesitated, glowing an uncertain blue, voice wobbling like a faint radio signal. “On my world, I was a noticer of stars—never chosen for adventures. Here, among you, I hope to find my purpose.”
A hush lingered. To their surprise, the Ogre’s shoulders slumped a little, and he gave a small, awkward bow. “Even an Ogre has secrets. Long ago, I wanted to guard treasures—until I realized what I really wanted was company and courage. Remember: The greatest idol is not gold, but what you see when you dare what others cannot.”
As the Ogre stepped aside, a portal shimmered open beneath a skylight. Sunbeams shot through what must be pure crystal above, painting rainbows across the final chamber. Dozens of mirrored shards circled the center, refracting the light so it seemed like hundreds of idols sparkled all around—a dizzying maze that led, inevitably, to the only real one: a simple golden figurine, perched on a puzzle-locked pedestal, floating lightly in midair.
Ette danced with anticipation, Plush’s button eyes shone, and Grace took one thrilling step forward, heart beating with both fear and hope. Their trial had only just begun, but together—courageous, honest, and wild with imagination—they might just be worthy of the pyramid’s greatest secret.