Sawyer shined his light over the thick stalactites dripping with moisture. Over time the wet had formed a small pool behind the tooth curve of stalagmites.
The rhythmic plop of water against water echoed like a quiet heartbeat.
“Tight quarters here,” Bran noted, “but—”
“Yeah, it opens up. No way of knowing how far back it goes.”
“Not from here.”
Sawyer scanned the area, shifted his weight. “What are the chances of talking them into staying out while we go back?”
“None. And more, I think however it goes against the instincts, it must be all of us, whatever the risks. Whether the star is here or not, I think it must be all of us.”
“Yeah, I know it. I’ll give them the come-ahead.” But he’d only started back when Riley ducked under the ledge, came in with the others behind her.
“Time’s up. There’s your jaws, Sasha, as advertised. Devil’s Breath. I’m betting that pool throws off a mist, and when it carries outside the mouth of the cave, you’ve got your breath.” Leading with her flashlight, she circled the mouth. “Little low in here for you tall people. More headroom as you go back, at least initially.”
She moved through the bars of stone, crouched by the pool. “Not deep, fairly clear. Nothing in there I can see.” She glanced over at Sasha.
“All right.” Though she dreaded it, Sasha moved to the pool. “I don’t see anything, in it or from it.”
“Okay. Is everybody up for heading in?” She shook her head as Annika waved her flashlight in a circle, watched the beam.
“It’s—”
“Yeah, pretty.” She pushed up, and as Bran had already started back, the others followed.
The walls stood no more than six feet apart, but the roof of the cave rose until the men could walk comfortably upright. Noting Sawyer kept Annika close, Sasha decided she didn’t have to worry about their playful teammate.
“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Sasha said, and nearly jumped as her voice echoed.
Bigger, she thought, and darker.
The walls widened, offered two chambers.
“Which way?” Bran asked her. “What does your instinct tell you?” he added when she hesitated.
“To the right. But—”
“To the right it is.”
“Hold on.” Riley dug chalk out of her pack, marked the wall of the chamber. “Always good to know where you’ve been.”
The chamber opened, higher and wider yet. Stalactites, stalagmites, and the columns they formed when they met glimmered in the light in golds and reds and umbers.
“Like jewels,” Annika said.
“Different minerals in the stone.” Riley studied the area. “But I’ll give you pretty here.”
Sasha played her light over a column, moved to it. “You need to see this. It looks like a woman. Look, her head, shoulders, body, all beautifully proportioned. Her face—eyes, nose, mouth. It’s not painted or carved. How could the stone have formed this way?”
She stood, long, dark hair, lithe form in flowing robes. Her eyes looked down, as if watching them. One hand, lifted, gestured to the back of the cave. The other held a globe.
“No way that’s a natural formation,” Riley said. “It had to be made.”
“It’s not painted,” Sasha repeated.
“There are other ways.” Bran aimed his light where the figure pointed. “There’s a ledge there, and an opening above it.”
“I’ll go in, scout it out,” Sawyer began, then caught the movement. “Riley.”
“It’s what I do,” she reminded him, and boosted herself onto the ledge and through.
“Hell. All of us then. Stay close,” he ordered Sasha.
Annika went in behind them, glanced back at the stone figure. “I don’t like her,” she murmured as Sawyer pulled up the flank.
They crawled for about ten feet, where it suddenly occurred to Sasha she might be a little claustrophobic after all. Then Riley called out.
“Another chamber, and a big one. There’s a drop, about three feet.”
Sasha heard the scrape of boots on rock, then the thud of a landing.
“I’ll have you,” Bran said before he dropped lightly into the dark. With his flashlight showing her the way, he held up a hand for hers. “Relax your knees,” he warned her.
She took the leap, caught her breath.
Before Bran could turn to offer Annika a hand, she’d jumped down gracefully.
Not dark, Sasha realized, or not completely. A light came from somewhere, pale and slightly . . . off. But it showed her the size of the cave, the smoothed teeth of rock stretching toward the floor, the others that soared up from it. All red, she thought, all red as blood.
A weight dropped on her chest, and her head swam.
“Don’t.” She reached out as Riley approached a formation that resembled a raised table. “Don’t touch it. Dark deeds done.”
“Riley,” Bran said sharply. “Touch nothing.”
In silent assent, Riley lifted her free hand, playing the light over the table stone. “There’s writing carved here. Ancient Greek.”
“Bones. Human bones piled over here.” Sawyer turned from them.