Descendants 3 (H.S. & C.S.)

Chapter 12

Barking guard dogs and descending into a mine shaft aren't exactly my idea of a good time . . .
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Harry and Navia stood at the locked entrance of a rundown old mine shaft. It reeked of bad idea. The wire fence was marked with the same unnerving skull graphic as was on the pin Des wore to fasten his chiton. Harry recoiled at the sight. His eyes focused on the ominous No Trespassing and Get Lost signs that covered the gate. He paused at one that read Beware of dog with crude drawing of a foreboding Cerberus. "Hey, how big is that dog?" he asked.

"You'll see." Navia placed the skull-shaped key in the rusted lock and slowly opened the controlled gate. It squeaked. He entered the dark, clank shaft and motioned for Harry to follow.

Harry looked down the dodgy passageway with concern. He feared what lay at the other end of the shaft.

Navia did nothing to calm those fears. "Stay quiet," the young girl warned ominously. "It echoes like crazy in here."

The dog's barking interrupted the silence, causing Harry to jump. He had a terrible feeling about this.

"Come on," Navia said, beckoning.

Navia grabbed a dirt-covered mining helmet, flicked on the headlamp, and climbed onto the front bicycle that had been affixed to the base of an old mine car. Harry breathed deeply, grabbed a mining hat, and hopped onto the back seat. The things he was willing to do for Auradon.

Navia checked the jalopy's jerry-rigged lanterns and released the brake, and the girls pedaled into the craggy tunnel, which grew smaller with every inch they descended. When the shaft became too narrow for the mine cycle, they hopped off the rig, removed their mining helmets, and tiptoed toward a small tunnel opening.

The insistent dog barking kept Harry on edge. Navia disappeared down the chute. Harry hesitated for a moment, then followed close behind. The girl and boy paused at the mouth of the tunnel and surveyed Des's ramshackle chamber, which lay below. Harry was not impressed.

The god of the Underworld had converted an abandoned mining cave into his sooty make-do personal lair. The rocky walls were slick with minerals.

Rotting support timbers stood throughout. An azure scarf covered a wobbly lampshade, bathing the entire room in a blue haze. With black sunglasses covering his brown eye, Des sat deep asleep on a shoddy throne. The immortal god's feet were perched on the armrest.

The vicious dog bark continued to pierce the air. Harry leapt with alarm and looked around frantically for the rabid Cerberus—until he noticed Navia indicating an old record that was circling on a dusty turntable. Okay, so he didn't need to beware of an actual dog. Still, Harry couldn't help feeling that the mission was ill-fated.

Navia locked eyes with Harry, nodded to the side, then pointed. Harry followed his gaze. Smack-dab behind Des's snoring head sat a small etched dish that held the covered blue ember. Harry looked at Navia and nodded confirmation. Then he slid into the villain's private quarters.

Harry crept nimbly through the disheveled chamber and angled toward the blue ember. The space was dead quiet except for the canine recording, which rasped and scratched in an irksome way. Annoyed by the grating around, Navia decided to lift the needle on the prehistoric record player—just as Harry stepped behind the slumbering Des. The needle scratched with an eeeeeee!

Des awoke with a start at the sound. He lifted his sunglasses, his brown eyes shone clear and alert. "What are you doing here?" he bellowed.

His voice sent chills down Harry's spine. Caught, he froze in place and desperately searched his brain for a clever excuse. Then Harry noticed Des wasn't speaking to him.