Page 47 of Charmed By Apollo

She realized that she was still standing close to him, and she took a step back, trying to regain her composure. Clearing her throat, she quickly changed the subject. “What did Dr. Rodrigo say again?” she asked.

“He said we need to swim in the cenote,” he explained. “Once we feel Yumil’s power, we’ll know which way to go to get to the right cave.”

They submerged themselves in the cool waters of the Cenote Santa Cruz, the evening light filtering through the trees above cast a soft, ethereal glow over the cavernous surroundings. The crystal clear and inviting water offered a sense of weightlessness and tranquility, and she found it surprisingly refreshing as they waded into the water, a welcome relief in the warm evening air.

Her senses heightened as she adjusted to the underwater world, her movements fluid and graceful. She could feel the gentle currents caressing her skin, and the faint echoes of distant sounds resonated through the cavern, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

Beside her, Apollo moved with effortless grace, his powerful strokes guiding them deeper into the cenote system. They swam through the cavernous passages of the cenote, and the water grew darker, the shadows of the rocky formations looming overhead like silent sentinels guarding the secrets of the underwater world. The walls of the cavern were slick with moisture, adorned with intricate patterns carved by the passage of time.

Apollo summoned his magic to light their path. With a flick of his wrist, tiny orbs of ethereal light materialized around them, casting a soft, iridescent glow in the dark waters. The orbs danced and shimmered, illuminating the cavern walls with hues of azure and aquamarine.

Each orb pulsed with a gentle energy, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow across the submerged rock formations. The water around them sparkled as if studded with a thousand tiny diamonds, creating a mesmerizing and enchanting mystical ambiance.

As they ventured deeper, the water seemed to take on a life of its own, swirling and eddying around them in a hypnotic dance. The echoes of their movements reverberated through the cavern, creating an eerie symphony of sound that echoed off the walls.

Suddenly, a strange sensation washed over her, a tingling energy that prickled her skin and sent a shuddering sensation down her spine. She glanced at Apollo, whose expression mirrored her own sense of unease.

“I felt it too,” he said.

With a renewed sense of purpose, they pressed on, their strokes becoming more determined as they followed the currents deeper into the heart of the cavern. The powerful priestess’s energy drew them, and they found themselves before a seemingly solid wall within the cavern. Without hesitation, Apollo grasped Geri’s hand and led her forward, his determination unwavering as they passed through the barrier as if it were mere mist.

Entering the cavern beyond, a scene of solemn reverence met them. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and chanting reverberated off the cavern walls, creating a mystical atmosphere.

They watched in silent awe as a group of followers dressed in ceremonial attire knelt before an altar adorned with offerings. The flickering light of torches cast dancing shadows across the cavern floor as the followers made their solemn sacrifice, their voices raised in devotion to their deity, the Maize God.

At the heart of the cavern stood an altar dedicated to the Maize God, adorned with intricate carvings depicting the cycle of life and the bounty of the harvest. The altar itself was carved from ancient stone, weathered by centuries of reverence and worship.

Upon the altar lay offerings to the Maize God, including freshly harvested corn, ripe fruits, and fragrant flowers, arranged in ornate patterns as a symbol of gratitude and supplication.

The followers knelt before the altar while they prepared to make a sacrifice, offering a prized animal—a goat adorned with ceremonial markings—as a symbol of their commitment and faith.

“Where…oh my Gods.” Geri took in a sharp breath, and goose pimples broke out all over her bare arms.

At the center of the altar stood Yumil, a figure of quiet authority as she watched over the proceedings with a calm expression. Her presence seemed to fill the cavern, her aura radiating power and wisdom as she presided over the sacred ritual.

Her features were both striking and serene, her skin bronzed by the sun and her hair cascading in dark waves around her shoulders. Adorned in flowing robes of earthy hues embellished with intricate patterns reminiscent of the cornfields in harvest, she exuded an aura of wisdom and ancient power.

Yumil’s eyes, deep and soulful, held the wisdom of ages past, and her gaze seemed to pierce through the veil of reality, glimpsing the mysteries of the divine.

And she was staring right at Geri.

“You,” she said, her voice deep and resonant. “Una licántropa. What do you want?”

“I…” She swallowed under the gaze of the priestess. Everything around her seemed to disappear—the cave, the worshippers, even Apollo. “My grandmother died a few days ago. Taken from us much too soon. I need to know, Lady Yumil…can you bring her back?”

All the air seemingly squeezed out of Geri’s body as she waited for the priestess’s answer, and the silence around her built a painful pressure in her ear.

“Yes,” she answered.

Tears built at the corner of her eyes. “Oh, please. Please bring her back.” She fell to her knees. “I just want Grannie back, like she never died.”

“I can do that for you, licántropa. But my power has a price, and you must be willing to pay it.”

“Anything,” she whispered. “Whatever you want.”

The priestess’s face remained calm and peaceful. “If you want a life, I must have a life back.”

“A l-life?”

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