Chapter 25 Welcome, Pilgrims
Welcome, Pilgrims
“Do you guys hear that?” Yumi asks.
I tilt my head and listen. The distant dripping has transformed into a gentle rushing sound. The river.
“Thank God,” Matt mutters. “I was starting to understand cave madness.”
The tunnel begins to lighten almost imperceptibly. At first, I think I’m imagining it—my eyes creating phantom light after too long in darkness—but then I can make out the vague outline of Yumi beside me, her profile etching itself into existence as the soft amber light brightens.
“It worked! My handsome genius man,” Morgan says excitedly, her voice muffled from pressing it against something. Matt’s cheek, I assume.
“Of course it did,” he replies without any of his usual acerbity.
The uneven, craggy walls of the labyrinth give way to an ethereal grotto.
We step beneath an archway covered in tiny star-shaped flowers.
Golden hour filters through the canopy of greenery, illuminating the tropical oasis that sprawls out before us.
The snaking river winds through a moss-kissed channel, sparkling in the dappled light.
“That looks like a chapel,” Yumi says, pointing to the white marble building just across a narrow bridge with wire handrails. While we know better than to take that bridge—the mantis man specifically told us to cross the river on stepping stones—I hope that some team fumbles and uses it instead.
The inevitability of a time penalty for breaking the rules is both a gift and a curse as a viewer. You’re both rooting for the team and rooting for the game to trick them. And if it results in another round for me, all the better.
The paved road splits, the right branch leading up to the bridge. The left path deposits us beside the river, facing a series of white, disk-like stepping stones that are each carved with a different symbol.
We approach the river’s edge. The stones aren’t particularly far apart, but the water flowing over them looks deceptively deep and leaves the smooth surfaces slick.
“So,” Morgan starts, bouncing on her toes. “Do we race or what?”
“I’ll go first,” Matt says, not waiting for an answer. He steps onto the first stone with surprising grace, reminding me that he’s a professional dancer.
“See you guys on the other side,” Morgan calls with a smile, taking off after her partner.
Both of their movements are controlled and confident, fluidly stepping from one stone to the next without hesitation.
Their crew members follow them with a practiced steadiness and soon they’ve completed the crossing, leaving us on the wrong side of the bank.
I look between the river and Yumi. “Shall we?”
“Age before beauty,” she says, nudging me out of the way and stepping out onto the river.
“I’m not even that much younger than you!” I object.
She doesn’t respond, having already moved on, laughing. I follow, placing a foot on the first stone and centering my weight carefully. It’s slipperier than it looks, and I wobble slightly before finding my balance.
“You’re doing great,” Yumi calls, already halfway across and moving with a natural athleticism.
I try to match her pace, but my foot slips. My heart lurches. For one horrible moment, I’m certain I’ll fall in, but then Yumi’s hand catches my wrist and steadies me.
“Gotcha!” she half shouts, bracing herself against my weight to keep us both upright. Her grip is firm and warm, and despite our precarious position, I feel totally and utterly safe.
Breathlessly, I thank her. We stand frozen for a moment, holding each other’s gaze as water rushes beneath us.
Something shifts as her expression softens and melts into the kind of excitement you can only feel once the fight-or-flight instinct has passed.
Yumi breaks into a grin and tugs me forward, asking, “You good, Breland?”
“Peachy,” I manage, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “Just giving the viewers something to gasp about.”
“Oh yeah.” Her voice carries back to me, teasing and tender all at once. “That’s going on the highlight reel for sure.”
We make it to the other bank without further incident and follow the path through the gardens to where it deposits us in front of Quinta de Regaleira’s white stone chapel.
Except for one tall spire pointing skyward, the building is smaller than I expected, its exterior intricately carved with saints and symbols.
As with everything else on the castle’s grounds, greenery cocoons the chapel.
A small fountain built into rock trickles loudly, ushering us on.
“Do you think Matt and Morgan are already inside?”
“Maybe they got lost?” Yumi huffs hopefully, her thumbs hooked into the straps of her backpack.
We race through the chapel’s archway, under a carving of an eye in the middle of a triangle, centered atop a cross similar to the one at the bottom of the Initiation Well.
Inside, dozens of dancing candles light the cramped interior, lending a warm glow to the ornate molding and mosaics of religious art.
There’s a narrow aisle leading up to the altar, where Matt and Morgan stand in front of a robed figure.
The figure tilts its head up as we approach, revealing a Jonathan who is far too cheery for his ceremonial outfit.
“Welcome, pilgrims!” he says, voice booming in the tight quarters.
His robes shimmer with gold thread as he lifts his arms dramatically.
“Noelle, Yumi, you are the…fourth team to arrive. Congratulations, your adventure will continue.”
I grab Yumi’s upper arm, bouncing silently on my toes. Then I notice that Matt and Morgan are still watching Jonathan as if he has more to say.
“Unfortunately, though, Portugal is not finished with you.”
Whatever bad news JSP is about to give us pales in comparison to the fact that we are moving on to the Fourth Adventure. It’s starting to feel like we’re playing to win, instead of to not be eliminated embarrassingly early.
“Tonight, all the teams will spend their night sleeping in the dark tunnels at the bottom of the Initiation Well. You may opt out at any time, but be warned that if you do not complete the night underground, you will face a major penalty in tomorrow’s challenge.”
Oh, they are definitely torturing someone specific on the cast, and all I can think about is how glad I am that it isn’t me.