In addition, bright yellow and orange fungi sprouted from fallen logs and branches. Large green ferns covered the forest floor. In summer, the ferns were perky, knee-high, and shrub-like, but tonight, the plants lay flat, having been tamped down by several inches of snow that had melted a week ago. Both fern and moss ground cover softened the sound of their steps as they slipped through the ever-darkening forest.

The cold air smelled of moss, fungi, pine, and saturated soil. The scents all familiar to her in the darkening shadows. She knew this place, winter and summer, night and day. But for the first time, the smell—even the very feel of the rainforest around her—wasn’t comforting.

They passed a lichen-coated rocky outcrop where she’d escaped on field school afternoons to write up her site notes for the day, uninterrupted by her students. When George discovered her hiding place, he’d taken to joining her. He’d bring a thriller novel and a snack—often biscuits with elderberry or salal jam made by a cousin, or smoked salmon and crackers—while she provided a thermos of herbal tea. He’d sit in the shade and read while she worked. Sometimes, he’d take a look at her notes and quiz her on what she thought they’d learn about the village that he didn’t know already about his ancestors.

George enjoyed consulting with archaeologists and liked working for the park as an on-site master carver, demonstrating his skills for visitors from all cultures, but he was disdainful of her profession at times, and with good reason. Archaeologists had spent decades yanking other cultures’ ancestors from their sacred resting places and putting them in museums without any regard for the beliefs and cultural practices of their living descendants.

Anthropologists in all disciplines had a lot to make up for.

As she passed the area where they shared their daily tea together, she found herself holding her breath, as if the superstitious act would protect him and they’d find him safe and undisturbed in his cabin.

“Audrey?” Xavier asked in a whisper.

She realized she’d stopped walking in addition to breathing. She shook her head. “Sorry. George and I—”

“You can explain later. We need to hurry.”

Xavier didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and resumed walking. She followed, placing a hand on her abdomen. There were so many things she needed to explain to him later. Teatime with George was the least of it.