The sinkhole did not stop expanding until half the clearing collapsed into the exposed understructure. Dirt spilled downward in long sheets, roots snapped like tendons, and fragments of old pathways dangled over the abyss. The forest groaned, bowing toward the opening as if acknowledging something ancient that had finally woken.
The air that rose from the depths was cold and metallic. It tasted like preserved machinery and old blood. A faint blue glow pulsed far below, lighting the cavern walls in slow rhythmic flashes, as if something in the depths was breathing.
My legs shook. Not from fear alone. From recognition.
Jack felt the tremor instantly. His hand slid into mine, fingers tightening. Beau stepped closer on my other side, his palm finding the small of my back, warm and steady.
