The actor lets out a loud whoop. “Do you hear that?” He laughs into his mic, speaking to the people back at the command center, and addressing some unseen audience at the same time. “We’re on the right path. We now have independent evidence of the eight deaths’ curse beyond Key’s and Cortes’s journals. We’re one step closer to unlocking the Godseye’s mystery. Anything else can we expect to see here?”

“Nothing much, I’m afraid. We explored the next cavern, but we haven’t found any more carvings or drawings. Ground penetrating radar tells us that there’s a couple more tunnels farther out, but there doesn’t seem to be a way for us to get to them from this end. Either those passageways have been blocked off since these caves were formed and there’s no way to access them short of tunneling through the walls—or there’s another entrance to the Godseye that we’ve missed.”

“Did you hear that?” Gries asks suddenly. His face has gone pale in the semi-darkness.

“I don’t hear anything,” Hemslock says intently, watching the other man. “Describe it to me.”

“I can hear someone calling my name.” Sweat streaks down Leo’s face, and it has nothing to do with the heat. “I—it sounds a lot like Elena’s voice.”

Hemslock gestures sharply at the rest of us to fall silent. We wait, tersely, straining to hear.

“There it is again.” Gries is shaking, leaning against the wall like all his strength has been sapped by the sound. “I—I need to find her. I need see who’s been making this—”

“That’s the last thing we’re going to do, Leo,” Hemslock interrupts—firmly, confidently. “Take deep breaths. We didn’t hear anything. Maybe your mind is playing tricks.”

“Our scans are clear,” Goatee says. “Leo, if you’re not feeling well, I think one of us should escort you out, see if—”

“No,” Gries says, shaking his head. “I’m fine. I can go on.”

“No changes in oxygen levels,” the researcher adds. “We haven’t gone deep enough within the cave for any drastic changes. But it might be better to return to the surface, regardless, Mr. Gries. Mr. Hemslock, maybe you should get one of your bodyguards to accompany him to—Mr. Hemslock? Are you okay?”

Hemslock is not okay. He focused on something in the gloom, and there is a very peculiar expression on his face. “You bitch,” he whispers.

“What are you doing?” Goatee yells, but Hemslock is already moving. The camera light on his head winks out without warning as he steps into the darkness and disappears.

Goatee swears and dashes in the actor’s direction, then utters a startled cry. “He disappeared into the wall! No, wait—there’s another passage here!”

He’s right. It’s a narrow squeeze, wide enough to allow only one person through at a time, and half-hidden by some bramble hanging down from the limestone.

“Wait,” the scientist says, alarmed. “We haven’t seen this cavern before. We need to make sure it’s stable—”

No one’s listening. Hemslock’s bodyguards are already pushing through. Goatee swears noisily again and stumbles in after them, his gait uneven.