He gestures at a nearby balete, cutting it—and a branch abruptly breaks off. The rest of the tree takes on a sicklier appearance, as if growing more brittle and withered.

And then, with a moan, it moves.

“Come,” Hemslock commands, and it obeys, shuffling to his side as the others watch, terrified. The man laughs. “It works. It really fucking works. That’s how Lapulapu did it. He sacrificed two enemy chieftains and Cortes, and in return the god gave him power. He gave the man fear and control of these fucking creatures to do his bidding. No wonder he nearly wiped out the Spaniards.”

“What did you do, Reuben?” Gries asks with alarm.

“What the rest of you were too chickenshit to dream of. What Lindsay Watson couldn’t.”

“What the hell?” Hawaiian Shirt demands. “You said you killed Steve Galant in self-defense. You said you couldn’t find Karl. And now you can control these fucking trees?”

“Just because you sacrificed them,” I say, “doesn’t mean you’ve succeeded. The creature inside the cave resisted your control. It tried to attack you.”

“How did you—?” Hemslock recovers swiftly. “So you know about that. Did the god tattle? Cry about getting his ass kicked?”

“The missing pages in Cortes’s journal describe the ritual. How to control the Diwata. Lindsay Watson tried to do the same thing, and now you’re following in your aunt’s footsteps,” I say.

Dead silence. The crew turns disbelievingly toward Hemslock, who refuses to give ground.

“Yeah,” he says. “Lindsay Watson was my aunt. You were snooping, weren’t you? Always wondered if you were the one who’d mucked up my cabin. How did you know?”

“You referenced an ‘eternity within a dream’ four months ago in one of your emails. That was only mentioned in Cortes’s journal, and that was found within the last two months. Page thirty-seven of the journal—one of the missing pages—was in your room. And I assumed you had the rest. The handwriting on the margins looked the same as in the photos of Watson’s notes.”

“He said he had an Aunt Elle,” Gries says, eyes widening. “It was Aunt L, short for Lindsay. That mugshot of her, I knew her expression looked so familiar—”

“My mistake,” Hemslock says, still smiling. “I should have known not to be careless. You pieced together the story pretty well, kid. Aunt Elle sent me a care package after her death. She’d been smart enough to keep Cortes’s journal pages in a bank vault for me to inherit. I’ve been chasing after her ever since. Where did you think I got my obsession for ghosts? Her theory, like Cortes’s, had always been that Lapulapu sacrificed to the Godseye and gained the power to repel the Spaniards from his island. But she miscalculated. The victim had to be someone worthy of punishment, not simply one to fit the riddle. Ironically, killing the woman made her worthy in the eyes of the god. I’ve since learned from her mistakes. I gave it Steve, I gave it Karl, and soon I’ll give it you, Leo.”