“Quite the find,” he said, pausing to look at the sketch of the shadow monster. “We were of course aware of Stone Age human settlements near the lake, but we hadn’t yet found any in the high hills. Not in any of the dozens of caves. So tell me, scholar, why they are there?” He pulled her sketch of the cave paintings from the board and sat in the chair to her right. From this angle, she could see that he had also failed to press down his silver cowlick. The spike of hair at his crown was usually plastered with gel—a feature Henri had nicknamed the Oberaletsch Glacier.

Ashley’s voice caught deep in her chest. She’d had a speech prepared, but it didn’t account for this sort of question. She’d been expecting more “who do you think you are,” not “what do you think.” Hope made it hard to think at all.

“Well, the bones show significant funerary preparations. They’re laid out, and the stone jars are inserted into the mouths. The jars contain bone marrow, which I suspect came from the arms and legs, which have all been broken—”

“How do you know that?” Dr. Knochdieb and Henri both turned to her at that, their faces masked with twin looks of alarm.

Ashley felt the cold water creeping back up her throat. “I examined the specimen last night. I wanted to provide a full rep—”

“You tampered with it?”

Here was the tirade she’d been expecting. His eyes roved over her in a way that made her feel inside-out. As though she was raw to his judgement.

“I felt it was my responsibility to report my findings in full. To provide enough information to justify a continued excavation and protection of the site.” Her jaw stiffened as she spoke, so that her last words hissed past her teeth, sounding more impertinent than she meant them.

“Of course it will be excavated. And protected. But it’s not your job to tell us that.” Dr. Knochdieb’s hands shook with indignation. The color of his face rose to match his tie.

“I meant to justify my continued excavation. Just . . . please. Please, let me work on this with you.” This wasn’t her script—she hadn’t intended to beg. But her head was spinning. She couldn’t remember what she was supposed to say—her jaw felt sealed against her words. Something about her past experience under her mentor in Peru. Something about global cooperation. She could only think of the bones—of getting back to them. Remind them why you’re here—why they said yes.

The black spots were returning to her vision. She held herself firm in her seat, upright, eyes closed.

She caught the word “dismissed,” then stumbled out of her chair, sending it rolling into the board, knocking sketches into the air. She ran from the room as Dr. Knochdieb scolded her rude departure.