They pressed deeper into the cave's mouth. The long, grueling day and their life-or-death sprint to escape the giant lizard had taken its toll, leaving the group drained and quiet.

  After setting the box down on the sandy floor of the passage, Will slumped onto the ground next to Maya, exchanging a weary glance that said, What next? Life with Jack and Kleo had been anything but predictable. Their adventures were filled with danger and discovery, but this… Jack and Kleo were on a whole other level. Will wondered, not for the first time, if he and Maya might be getting too old for this sort of thing.

  He and Maya had always chosen this life—exploring the unknown, chasing mysteries, and untangling the threads of the world’s secrets. Maya for knowledge; for him, even on bad days, it beat working.

  It was also what they did best; they’d made peace with the risks long ago. He yearned for the quiet days ahead: Maya buried in her research, him tending to their little garden or fixing whatever broke around the house. It felt like it would be nothing short of a miracle if they lived to see those days.

  Maya broke the silence. “Do you think we underestimated Thespis?”

  Will glanced toward the younger man, leaning against the cave wall, his eyes closed, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. For once, he looked more like a survivor than an entitled hanger-on.

  “No,” Will said finally. “He just exceeded expectations. Let’s be honest—given what we knew, the bar wasn’t set very high.”

  Maya smirked. “Fair point.”

  Rugr stood nearby, arms crossed, as if guarding the box by sheer will alone. Kleo sat with Jack, her head leaning against his shoulder, while Bug Bug perched higher on the wall, his stillness unnerving as always.

  “We need to find a place to camp. And water. Water would be nice,” Maya said.

  The air inside the cave hinted at moisture somewhere deeper.

  “What are the chances?” Will asked, his voice low.

  “Reasonable,” Maya replied. “This cave feels open—there’s airflow. That should mean condensation somewhere.”

  Will nodded, pushing himself to his feet and dusting off his hands. He glanced at the rest of the group. “Only one way to find out.”

  Maya rose beside him, and the others followed, shaking off their exhaustion. Rugr lifted the box without a word while Jack summoned a pale yellow glow from his orb to light the way.

  They pressed deeper into the cave, the tunnel narrowing, forcing them to move single file, their footsteps echoing off the uneven walls.

  Bug Bug clicked his forelegs against the stone, his antennae twitching as he led the way.

  A sound rose, a faint, rustling whisper that seemed to originate from nowhere and everywhere. Jack paused mid-step, his eyes darting upward. “Did anyone else hear that?”

  Then, a frantic flurry of wings, a torrent of leathery chaos, and high-pitched squeaks surged through the passage. Jack ducked, the rush of displaced air whipping past his face as the bats poured through like a living tide, their high-pitched squeaks stabbing at his ears.

  “Bats!” Jack yelled, shielding his head with both arms.

  The bats swooped low, their tiny bodies zipping past with astonishing speed, the cacophony drowning out the group’s hurried shouts.

  Maya pressed herself against the wall, her eyes wide as the swarm funneled past, and Thespis crouched low, his hands clamped over his head as if the bats might carry him off.

  Kleo stood her ground, her eyes following the swarm as the bats streamed toward a crack in the ceiling at the far end of the passage. One by one, they vanished into the darkness, their squeaks fading as the last of them disappeared.

  The group stood stunned for a moment, the tunnel eerily quiet once more. Jack straightened, brushing off his shirt and looking a bit shaken.

  Rugr smirked faintly. “It’s a cave, Jack. Why wouldn’t you expect there to be bats?”

  Jack rolled his eyes, muttering, “Yeah, I missed the class on ‘cave survival.’”

  As the group resumed their journey, Jack glanced back at the crevice one last time. “You think they were running from something?”

  Kleo shook her head. “Night’s falling, Jack; that’s when they feed. They’re just hungry.”

  "Yeah, me too."

  They pressed on, wary of another encounter, but it wasn't long before the tunnel opened into a vast chamber.

  As Jack’s orb cast its light forward, the group froze.

  At the chamber’s center sprawled a skeleton of monstrous proportions, its bones arranged in chaotic disarray as though the creature had died mid-battle.

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  Elongated and angular, the skull dominated their gaze, its head adorned with serrated ridges cutting back toward curved, ram-like horns. Its jaws lay open, revealing rows of jagged teeth, each as long as Jack’s hand. The wings—or what might have been wings—jutted at an angle from the ribcage, spindly and vast, their joints too delicate to seem real. A long, barbed tail extended across the chamber floor, its tip embedded in the far wall like a weapon that had struck too late.

  Jack swallowed. “What… is that?” he whispered.

  Maya approached the skull, her fingers hovering inches above its serrated ridges. “It looks like it could fly,” she murmured. “Maybe… a dragon?”

  Will crouched by one of the massive ribs, his hand brushing the fossilized surface. “Not a dragon,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “Something older. The dragons I’ve heard of don’t have barbed tails like that.”

  Jack forced himself to move, drawn despite his unease toward the creature’s empty eye sockets. They were deep and cavernous, and for a moment, he could almost imagine a glint of malevolent life staring back. A shiver ran through him, and he quickly averted his gaze.

  Kleo stood apart, her eyes drawn not to the bones but to the chamber's far wall, where faint markings etched the stone. She brushed her fingers along the weathered lines. Symbols radiating out from a central depiction of a beast. It was vast in size and winged, its claws outstretched as if descending from the heavens.

  “Worshipped,” Kleo said, her voice tinged with reverence and unease. “Or feared. Probably both.”

  “Whatever it was,” Will said, rising to his feet, “it’s been dead a long time. The bones are hard as stone. That means this thing was here long before any of us.”

  Rugr swept the chamber, his gaze lingering on the tail embedded in the far wall, the violence of the gesture as unnerving as the rest of the scene. “This isn’t the best place to make camp. It’s dry as a bone here—literally—and that thing gives me the creeps.”

  “I’m with Rugr,” Jack said, stepping back toward the entrance. “Sleeping next to that? Hard pass.”

  As they moved deeper into the cave, Jack glanced back again. The creature’s empty eye sockets seemed to follow him, a silent reminder that the mysteries of the desert—and its dangers—were far from over.

  They trudged deeper, emerging into a vast chamber, its cathedral-like ceiling soaring overhead. Overhead, stalagmites glistened, their mineral deposits reflecting Jack’s glowing orb with faint, ghostly glimmers.

  At the chamber’s heart lay a pool, its surface like a mirror. The steady drip of water echoed through the space, giving the impression of a giant, living heart deep within the earth.

  “This will do,” Rugr said, setting down the box. “We make camp here.”

  Thespis slumped against one of the columns, his breathing still labored. “Finally. I thought I’d collapse halfway through that last tunnel.”

  Jack sat beside him, offering a water skin. “You and me both.”

  Kleo stood by the pool, staring into its glassy surface. She ran her fingers over the surface, and her reflection wavered with the rippling water, distorted and surreal. “The tunnels lead down from here,” she said. “That’s where we’ll be heading after we sleep.”

  Rugr’s gaze fixed on the sloping passage behind them. “And the sanctuary is up. Demana signs are carved into the walls. The way’s marked.”

  Kleo’s eyes flicked toward Rugr. It was time for him and Thespis to make their way and deliver the box to the sanctuary. She would follow the malevolence that pulled from the depths below. The pull consumed her focus, its rhythmic drumbeat growing and becoming impossible to ignore.

  “Let’s gather water and eat first,” she said. “We’ll discuss the plan after that.”

  Jack moved to the pool, crouching as he filled their water skins one by one. The water was icy cold and clear, its surface revealing nothing but smooth rock beneath. He peered into its depths, hoping to see signs of life—a fish, an insect, something—but the pool seemed barren.

  Maya and Will were studying markings on the wall behind the pool when he joined them, holding out full water skins.

  “What are we looking at?”

  Maya traced her fingers over the weathered etchings, her eyes bright with fascination. “These markings were made by a tribe of early humans called the Anth—or so I’d guess. There’s not much known about them, but I can tell you these carvings are ancient. Thousands of years, maybe tens of thousands.”

  “Same as the ones near the skeleton?” Jack asked, his curiosity piqued.

  “Yes,” Maya said, her voice reverent. “The same.”

  Jack studied the symbols—crude but deliberate. Some were obvious: a circle with radiating lines for the sun and wavy lines for water. Others were abstract, their meaning locked away in a long-forgotten language.

  “The Anth were a lot like us,” Maya said, her tone warm and instructive. “They were curious, filled with wonder. They told stories and created rituals to make sense of the world around them. They didn’t just ask, ‘How do we survive?’ They asked, ‘Why are we here?’”

  Jack’s gaze lingered on a spiraling glyph that drew his eyes inward. “And these are their answers?”

  “Not answers,” Maya said with a small smile. “More like attempts. They revered the sun, water, and life itself—forces they couldn’t control but depended on for survival. They worshipped these forces to create order out of chaos, turning survival strategies into sacred practices.”

  Will, leaning against the wall, gestured toward a depiction of a winged beast with claws and fangs. “Like the skeleton back there. If I had to guess, they saw creatures like that as gods—or monsters worth appeasing.”

  Maya nodded. “The Anth likely worshipped what they feared most, hoping to transform predators into protectors. Pictographs like these weren’t only art; they were rituals in themselves. A way to say: ‘We see you. We honor your power. Spare us.’”

  Jack smirked. “So, what you're saying is that not much has changed. People in Cabal still worship what they don’t understand and what they fear.”

  Maya tilted her head, impressed by the insight. “That’s an excellent point. We like to think we’re more advanced than the Anth, but we’re still asking the same questions. Still trying to make sense of a world that doesn’t care whether we live or die.”

  “Life’s great mysteries,” Will added.

  Jack grinned. “You know what feels like a mystery to me right now? Why we haven’t eaten yet? I’m starving.”

  Maya and Will exchanged amused glances. Jack had a knack for cutting through tension with simple, grounded concerns.

  “Another good point,” Maya said, gesturing toward Kleo, who waited by the pool. “I'm sure she's wondering what’s taking you so long. Go on. We’ll join in a minute.”

  Maya leaned into Will as Jack wandered off, lacing her fingers through his. For better or worse, they had tied their fate to Jack and Kleo. Kleo's power and purpose were undeniable—but Jack was the wild card. He stumbled into answers, not by skill or strategy but sheer audacity or fate.

  Maya’s thoughts darkened for a moment. Caught in whatever web the Fates were spinning, she wondered if they were supporting players or if they had roles yet unseen. What she knew was this: she wouldn’t let the Fates break her and Will again. No matter the stakes, no matter the cost, she would protect their bond. They would endure. If the Fates wanted them to suffer, they would have to build it around the unbreakable truth of their love.

  She tightened her grip on Will’s hand, grounding herself. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get some food before Jack eats it all.”

  Will smiled, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Lead the way, Professor.”