Reuben has decided that the next place to film would be within the Godseye itself, by the stone altar within. The crew takes a shot of the exterior, and then more around the altar. Leo Gries stares at it and shudders. “What was this for?” he asks me.

“It was one of many places where sacrifices were offered.”

“One of many places?”

“Seems like there are others within the cave,” Hawaiian Shirt says. “The team hasn’t found them yet, though. There are a couple of sketches from Key’s journal that show how the ritual’s done. No idea if it’s accurate, but we’ll run with it.”

“Get on the altar, Steve,” Reuben says.

“Me? Why the hell would I—”

“Just humor me.”

Grumbling, Armani lies down.

“This is how they performed the sacrifice, according to what we’ve found so far,” Hemslock says. He moves, placing Armani’s hands and feet over the small holes on the sides of the stone. “They were bound like this, probably with rope.” He points toward a larger hole at the center of the altar, between Armani’s legs. “I’ve got a pretty good hypothesis about this one. I’m guessing that if the god accepts the sacrifice, it grabs the victim and drags it down through here.”

“How?” Gries asks, appalled. “The hole isn’t big enough for a human to get through…unless…”

“Unless the god doesn’t care if they’re in one piece when they do,” Hemslock says, grinning.

With a grunt, Armani pushes himself off the altar, still scowling. “Get someone else to do the reenactment next time.”

“It won’t be as much fun.”

Outside, I spot Chase taking photos of himself with his phone, flexing and grinning at the screen. Once done, he wanders back near the sinkhole, watching the crew circle their way around the tree, trying to figure out the best way to take out the corpse without destroying the roots that have grown around it.

“I promised Dad I wouldn’t take any pictures that would reveal anything about the show,” he whispers when I join him. Askal has calmed down but won’t stop looking at the tree below us. “But I wasn’t expecting this. Have you ever seen anything like it before?”

“It’s not a good sign.”

“It’s not, like, some publicity stunt, right?”

“You’re more familiar with that than I am.”

“Yeah, it just feels freaking unbelievable that this happened, and I can’t tell anyone. Did having so many people here cause the sinkhole?”

“I don’t know. Kisapmata’s never had this many trespassers before.”

“Kisa-what? Oh, right. It’s what y’all call this place.”

His dismissive tone irks me. “It’s what the island is called. At least care enough to learn how to say it.”

He frowns at me. “What’s your problem? Coming here to film ghosts wasn’t my idea, you know. Take it up with the actual people in charge.”

“Then why are you here?”

His phone buzzes again. “Well, my dad is one of the showrunners involved.”

“Do showrunners always bring their kids?”