Escape From Riddler's Pass by Amy Green

immediately ran toward the cliff face. Jesse limped along at his own slow pace.
    By the time he got there, Rae and Silas were studying the rock wall of the canyon beneath the fist, looking puzzled. It was small, perhaps only thirty paces deep and seven paces wide.
    â€œI don’t see anything,” Rae said at last, running her hands over the stone. “Not an opening, not a cave, and certainly not a pass.”
    Jesse looked around. No patches of briars could cover up a secret entrance, no tiny crevice in the rock could be seen for them to squeeze through. “Maybe we got the wrong fist.”
    â€œIt has to be here!” Silas exclaimed in frustration, pacing back and forth beside the canyon wall. “It has to be. It looks just like the canyon on the map.”
    â€œMaybe the map was wrong,” Jesse suggested. “It was an old map. Besides, the Roarics didn’t go Above-ground much. Things could have changed.”
    â€œWe’ll look closer,” Rae said, giving Jesse a warning look. “It will make him feel better, at least,” she whispered to him as she passed.
    Fine. I’ll waste my time in a boxed-in canyon to make Silas feel better . Jesse kicked the mountain to see if anything moved. He only succeeded in hurting his good foot.
    On the other side of the canyon, Rae and Silas were feeling the rock. “Maybe you’ll find some sort of trap door,” Jesse suggested, grinning. “Or a hidden lever that will pry the mountains apart. Or a magic portal that will take you to the Rebellion lair.”
    Both glared at his attempt at humor and continued their careful search.
    So he would at least look like he was searching, Jesse tapped his staff against the rocks, first lightly, then harder. After a while, he began to beat out a rhythm, the solid tap, tap, tap of the stick against stone creating a pattern of sound. This is actually fun .
    He began to step in time to the rhythm, like the people of Mir did at the annual harvest celebration. With one swollen, lame leg, it was a sad imitation, to be sure, but it was better than poking at Silas’ barren mountain.
    Jesse danced up the length of the canyon, tapping the rock all the way. Then, right before he reached the dead end, his good foot tripped on something, and he sprawled to the ground—hard. Strangely, the dirt and moss underneath him shuddered slightly.
    â€œAre you all right?” Silas called, looking up from his work at the noise of Jesse’s fall.
    â€œJust fine,” Jesse said, not wanting to explain what had happened. When Silas and Rae turned back to their search, Jesse looked down. That’s strange . Beneath him was a large patch of dead moss among all the green.
    Maybe it’s some sort of fungus or disease. The thought made him pull away, and he scurried over to the green moss nearby. What did I trip over, anyway?
    He peered into the square of dead moss and saw it, nearly buried in the ground. An iron ring. Someone left it here, I suppose. Maybe the metal poisoned the moss around it.
    Jesse reached down to pick it up, but it would not budge. It’s attached , he realized. Then, another thought immediately after it: What if this moss isn’t poisoned or diseased? What if it’s a patch of dead moss that was used to cover up something…like a door? “Silas,” he called, excited now. “Come over here!”
    Silas and Rae both came, although neither one seemed to be in much of a hurry. “What is it?” Silas asked. “Do you need help standing back up?”
    Jesse gave him a scathing look. “No. But look what I found.”
    He pointed to the iron ring in the moss, and Silas seemed to understand right away. “A secret entrance,” he breathed, staring at it. “Noa’s map was right after all.”
    â€œWe don’t know that for sure until we try,” Rae pointed out. “It could be locked. Or the place could be