32. Elena #2
And then the trees thin.
We step into a clearing that looks like it has been torn open by a giant hand.
I stop.
Seeing the damage for the first time in daylight makes me shudder, grateful that all of us survived. Tree trunks lean at impossible angles; roots ripped halfway from the ground. Vines hang severed and bleeding sap. Bark is split and splintered, pale wood exposed like bone.
Hannah lets out a low whistle. “He did all this?”
Her voice feels too loud in the wreckage.
I nod once.
The air smells wrong, dirt churned too deep, something metallic beneath it. At the far end of the clearing, the earth dips.
Wendell’s man-made entrance gapes open.
We approach slowly.
The hole is circular, carved straight down into the ground. Crude steps have been cut into the packed earth, spiraling enough to make the descent possible. Daylight stretches only a few feet below before darkness swallows the rest.
Hannah crouches at the edge, pressing her palm into the turf beside the opening. It gives slightly, then holds.
“He made these,” she observes, peering down. There’s something like reluctant admiration in her tone. “Not bad.”
“Moisture from this morning,” I murmur. “It’ll be softer than it looks.”
She slips the backpack off and unzips it, pulling out two flashlights. She hands one to me.
I test the first step with my boot. The earth compresses but doesn’t crumble.
“This reminds me of when we used to hike the cliffs,” Hannah reminisces.
A corner of my mouth lifts despite everything. “We weren’t climbing into holes that might collapse on us.”
“There is that.”
“You really can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”
The voice slices through the clearing.
We both spin.
Clara leans against a tree at the edge of the wreckage, arms folded, expression infuriatingly calm.
For a second, I just stare at her. “How did you…”
She pushes off the trunk and steps closer, boots crunching over bark. “Everyone forgets I’m a spy,” she chides lightly, shaking her head. “You two aren’t nearly as quiet as you think. Medical wing. Thin walls.”
Hannah straightens. “Are you here to stop us?”
“If I were,” Clara replies dryly, “you wouldn’t have made it this far.” Her eyes slide to me. Not unkind. Assessing. “Alexei won’t be thrilled,” she adds.
My lips press thin. “Is that why you didn’t tell him?”
She laughs once under her breath. “No. When it comes to you, your minds are already made up. I assumed you had a reason.”
“She does,” Hannah defends immediately.
“I know,” Clara replies. “Heard that part too.”
“You think there’s more to what I can do?” I ask.
Clara glances into the hole, then back at me. “After what I saw yesterday? I’m willing to find out.” She pauses, her eyes flickering to the hole and then back to me. “Listen… don’t die. I don’t fancy a lecture from Lex.”
Hannah snorts. “It’s coming either way.”
“So will Braydon’s,” Clara quips, arching a brow. “You didn’t think he knew what you were doing?”
Hannah freezes. “He knew?”
Clara shrugs. “May have given him a heads up.”
“You sold us out?” Hannah snaps.
“Not the priority here,” I cut in, eyes fixed on the dark below.
Clara and Hannah both look at me.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Clara asks.
“No,” I say honestly. “But I’m going.”
She sighs, then plucks the flashlight from my hand. “Fine. I’ll go first.”
I don’t argue.
The air grows cooler as we descend. Each step presses a dull thud through the soles of my boots. Earth walls close in around us, the scent of damp soil thick and close.
Clara reaches the bottom first. Her beam sweeps across packed dirt and narrow walls.
“Clear,” she calls.
I follow behind, the space below smaller than I expected, considering Wendell’s height and weight. As I look about the space, everything about it screams that it was recently carved. The ceiling is low enough that Hannah has to duck as she joins us.
For a moment, nothing but the quiet sounds of the earth beneath us fills the silence as our weight settles.
Then—
A faint vibration hums up through my feet. Not sound. Not exactly.
Recognition.
The cave flashes in my mind, not this torn, suffocated version, but what it once was. Walls smoothed by time. Water threading through stone like silver veins. A living pulse in the air.
“You all right?” Hannah asks softly behind me.
I don’t answer. My head snaps as the hum grows stronger toward the back wall of the cave.
“There’s nothing here,” Clara mutters, light skimming across dirt. “How did Wendell pull anything from this?”
“It’s in the walls,” I whisper. “I can feel it.”
Hannah grimaces. “That’s not ominous at all.”
My fingers trail along the earth. The buzzing. It grows louder, calling me, the hairs on my forearms stand on end, my skin prickling with awareness. As if being down here awakened something deep inside of me.
“Welcome home, Elena.” The words whisper low inside my head.
I jerk upright, scanning the narrow chamber. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Hannah asks.
Clara’s beam steadies on my face. “Elena?”
“Come, child.”
The voice is on top of me, a whisper inside my ear.
I turn toward a narrow offshoot, barely more than a tear in the wall. The earth there looks hastily ripped open, as if someone clawed through it in desperation.
I duck and step inside.
“El,” Hannah warns, “that doesn’t look stable.”
“It’s where I need to be.”
The air tightens as I squeeze through. The hum crescendos until it vibrates in my teeth.
“Bear your heart,” the voice murmurs.
“How?” I breathe.
The passage ends in a small hollow. The stone here is different, darker, smoother. At my feet, faint residue dusts the ground, like something once rested here and was torn away.
Emotion slams into me so hard I stagger.
“El!” Hannah’s voice echoes from behind.
“I’m fine,” I manage, though my hands are already reaching.
The stone is cool. Slick with moss.
“Your wants. Your wishes,” the voice urges. “Your true desires.”
My throat tightens.
“I want to be happy,” I whisper. The words feel small in the cavern. “I want to protect the people I love. I want to stop them from being hurt.” My chest aches. “I want to save him.”
The hum swells.
“And?” the voice presses.
“I don’t want this to change me,” I breathe. “I don’t want to become something I don’t recognize.”
“No one escapes unclean, child.”
A tremor runs through the walls.
“What if I’m not strong enough?” I ask.
“Only you decide that.”
I close my eyes. “Do it,” I whisper.
The ground answers.
The walls shudder violently. Dirt rains from the ceiling over my head, falling all around me in heavy heaps.
“El, what’s happening?” Hannah shouts.
I try to pull my hands back. I can’t.
Wind tears through the narrow space, whipping my hair across my face, though there is nowhere for it to come from.
“Elena!” Clara’s voice is closer now.
The earth beneath my boots softens, then liquefies.
My ankles sink.
“I can’t move!” I gasp.
The ground splits open.
And I fall.
Into a cold watery abyss that swallows me whole.
Despite that, I don’t panic. There isn’t even a burn in my lungs from the lack of oxygen.
Light pours from everywhere and nowhere, wrapping around me like a second skin. The water is impossibly clear, endless in every direction.
“As it has been desired,” the voice echoes.
I sink until my feet brush solid ground. The light flares, the water vanishes, and the world snaps.
I’m back.
The hard stone is beneath my hands once more, the dirt beneath my boots.
Clara bursts through the passage, stumbling. “Where did you go?” she demands. “How are you?—”
“I don’t know,” I breathe.
“Bullocks. Don’t care,” she snaps, grabbing my wrist. “We’re leaving.”
We scramble back toward the main chamber.
Hannah stands at the base of the steps, eyes wide with relief when she sees me. She pulls me into a fierce hug.
“I’m okay,” I murmur into her shoulder.
“Out. Now,” Clara orders.
Clara reaches the top first, hauling herself onto solid ground. She turns and grabs Hannah’s hand, dragging her up.
I’m last.
Halfway up, the earth groans.
“Move!” Clara shouts.
The steps crumble beneath my feet. Dirt cascades past my legs. I lunge upward at the same time as the wall gives way.
Hands clamp around my wrist.
Clara.
She grunts, lifting me upwards. Another grip seizes my other arm, stronger, familiar.
Braydon.
They yank in unison.
I spill onto the forest floor as the hole behind us roars.
Wind spirals upward, dragging leaves, dirt, and broken branches into a violent funnel. The opening collapses inward, swallowing itself. The sound is deafening, like the earth exhaling after holding its breath too long.
Then… silence.
Where the entrance once gaped, there is only a forest floor. Unbroken, untouched, the roots and moss as if no one had ever carved into it.
Braydon’s hand is still locked around my wrist.
I stare at the place where the hole used to be. As if nothing happened.
But something did.
I can still feel it humming beneath my skin.