“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Sasha said, and nearly jumped as her voice echoed.
Bigger, she thought, and darker.
The walls widened, offered two chambers.
“Which way?” Bran asked her. “What does your instinct tell you?” he added when she hesitated.
“To the right. But—”
“To the right it is.”
“Hold on.” Riley dug chalk out of her pack, marked the wall of the chamber. “Always good to know where you’ve been.”
The chamber opened, higher and wider yet. Stalactites, stalagmites, and the columns they formed when they met glimmered in the light in golds and reds and umbers.
“Like jewels,” Annika said.
“Different minerals in the stone.” Riley studied the area. “But I’ll give you pretty here.”
Sasha played her light over a column, moved to it. “You need to see this. It looks like a woman. Look, her head, shoulders, body, all beautifully proportioned. Her face—eyes, nose, mouth. It’s not painted or carved. How could the stone have formed this way?”
She stood, long, dark hair, lithe form in flowing robes. Her eyes looked down, as if watching them. One hand, lifted, gestured to the back of the cave. The other held a globe.
“No way that’s a natural formation,” Riley said. “It had to be made.”
“It’s not painted,” Sasha repeated.
“There are other ways.” Bran aimed his light where the figure pointed. “There’s a ledge there, and an opening above it.”
“I’ll go in, scout it out,” Sawyer began, then caught the movement. “Riley.”
“It’s what I do,” she reminded him, and boosted herself onto the ledge and through.
“Hell. All of us then. Stay close,” he ordered Sasha.
Annika went in behind them, glanced back at the stone figure. “I don’t like her,” she murmured as Sawyer pulled up the flank.
They crawled for about ten feet, where it suddenly occurred to Sasha she might be a little claustrophobic after all. Then Riley called out.
“Another chamber, and a big one. There’s a drop, about three feet.”
Sasha heard the scrape of boots on rock, then the thud of a landing.
“I’ll have you,” Bran said before he dropped lightly into the dark. With his flashlight showing her the way, he held up a hand for hers. “Relax your knees,” he warned her.
She took the leap, caught her breath.
Before Bran could turn to offer Annika a hand, she’d jumped down gracefully.
Not dark, Sasha realized, or not completely. A light came from somewhere, pale and slightly . . . off. But it showed her the size of the cave, the smoothed teeth of rock stretching toward the floor, the others that soared up from it. All red, she thought, all red as blood.
A weight dropped on her chest, and her head swam.
“Don’t.” She reached out as Riley approached a formation that resembled a raised table. “Don’t touch it. Dark deeds done.”
“Riley,” Bran said sharply. “Touch nothing.”
In silent assent, Riley lifted her free hand, playing the light over the table stone. “There’s writing carved here. Ancient Greek.”