“I’m making arrangements.”

“You’re bringing him to Leyte? We’ll pay for the transportation if you like.”

I shake my head. “I have family in Leyte. I’ve reached out to them.”

“Good. We’d like you back after lunch. We’re going to figure out what’s wrong with Steve, and then we’re going to start exploring both the sinkhole and the cave, which we’ll need you for.”

I wait until he’s out of view before I move.

First, the distraction. Askal wanders toward the production crew, flops on his back to expose his tummy, and barks loftily. Pet me, is what he means. Love me. And while they’re distracted, I sneak away.

Hemslock’s cabin is easy to break into. The bungalow is locked, but I keep a few tools in my boat. The lock is a standard one with no special reinforcements. I carefully press at the small indentation underneath the doorknob and twist the plate behind it so that it loosens in my hand. Jiggling the mechanism within opens the door in seconds. It was a trick I had learned from a reformed burglar-now-fisherman.

The man keeps things neat; it’s easy to find what I’m looking for. His notes and documents are spread out on a table. One catches my eye—the handwriting is different from the others on the desk, a translation scribbled underneath what appears to be a Spanish manuscript—the Cortes journal.

Still I persisted, and finally he relented. Eight sacrifices, Humabon had told him. To receive the god’s blessing, sacrifice to the god. Take their hearts and sacrifice them to the Tree, and you will find eternity within the dream. Humabon swears that the god will have no choice but to be beholden to you, grant you control of the islands.

However, Magellan cautions me against such attempts, believing it to be the devil’s work, another pagan custom to be eradicated. He intends to wage war on Humabon’s behalf against the chieftain of Matan, as they believe the latter knows the secret to such power. It is the only reason they can think of, why the accursed native and his lands could not yet be conquered.

But I am determined to unlock this secret for, myself. Not for the first time I curse Magellan. The mutinies against him have done us no favors, nor his arrogance. We could have overwhelmed these people quickly, if not for our own losses.

It is not so large a cave. I will warn the Matan chieftain, Cilapulapu, of Magellan’s impending invasion. I will gain his trust, and that of his god’s. And then I will kill him, sacrifice him myself.

More annotations across the page. A note that states Matan = old name for the Mactan island that Cilapulapu ruled. The number thirty-seven, carefully circled on the right corner. More scribbled writings in the margins, the handwriting different from Cortes’s, with lines crossed through every word on the list save the one at the very end.

• local woman

• criminal

• cheater

• prostitute