Getting them to open up had been a long and patience-stretching task. And it had all started when one evening an elder had talked of a legend called Bad Water, and then shown him a tooth, broken, but a big one, bigger than anything he had ever seen. The old tribesman had hinted that he didn’t find the artifact, but instead, in his youth, had battled the creature himself.

No matter how hard Granger had pressed him for a sea location, the old man had evaded, obfuscated, and just as Granger was thinking he had misunderstood him, the old man had suggested it wasn’t from the open ocean at all, but instead from some dark, hidden place.

Granger had been patient, coming back time and again, and working hard to become a trusted friend of the tribal group. Eventually the Nantouk elder had told him of an ancient and nearly forgotten custom. Granger had listened eagerly as the old man talked. It seemed that before gaining manhood, the young men of the tribe would be required to enter a secret place that was older than the world according to the Nantouk. It was the place of Bad Water, and using only a length of rope and harpoon, they were to catch something fantastic, and then bring their prize back to the tribe.

The old man had then held up the broken tooth – serrated, seven inches long; it was the proof of his fearlessness, gained more than a half-century before.

The Nantouk were first and foremost hunters and fishermen, and didn’t know the meaning of deception, so if an elder said he caught something fantastic, Granger believed him.

Granger grinned, wiped at his dripping nose, and then leaned out to gaze at the rip of darkness in the sheer rock face. He was a geologist by profession, but he was also a fossil hunter and fanatical caver. The legend of the Bad Water was irresistible to him. He knew from his experience, whenever there was a legend there was always some germ of fact behind it. You just needed patience, good forensic skills, and sometimes a good dose of insanity to ferret it out.

Granger’s laugh was lost in the freezing wind. He leant out further. Where he was heading was isolated, unknown and would be difficult to get to, and therefore perfect; perfect, because all of those factors might mean he’d be the first European to ever enter it.

He eased along the ledge, being careful to balance the pack on his shoulders, and try not to look down. It was an eight hundred foot drop to the water, but even if by some miracle he survived the fall, then that cold blue liquid would freeze-burn his skin, and more than likely stop his heart in an instant.