The cavern mouth gaped low in the cliff face like a wound that never healed. Black rock slick with sea spray, jagged teeth of stone framing the entrance. Waves crashed far below, spray exploding upward in cold white fists that reached almost to the narrow ledge. She descended the rope ladder he’d left dangling—hands burning on wet hemp, bare feet slipping on algae-smeared rungs. Rain from the storm still lingered in the air, mixing with salt and the faint metallic stink of old blood.

Inside: absolute dark for the first ten steps. Then faint red glow ahead—torches soaked in something that burned low and crimson, throwing bloody light across dripping stalactites and uneven floor. The cavern stretched deep, walls glistening wet, ceiling lost in shadow. In the center: a single thick stalagmite rising from the floor like a petrified cock, rough and veined with mineral. Ropes of coarse hemp already knotted around its base.