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Sylvie Deering

June 2025

Wednesday — 1:09 pm

T he beam from the flashlight Theo had thrown down to Sylvie sliced through the glacial darkness, illuminating a cavern of ice stalactites and stalagmites. Frigid air pressed in from all sides, immediately soaking into her jacket. She stared at the rotted boards that had given way beneath her feet over half an hour ago. During that time, Theo had been searching for something to haul her up to solid ground.

“Anything?” Sylvie called out, using her boot to move aside one of the decayed boards. The sketchbook in her hand had gone flying the moment the planks had given way. It had to be nearby, and she wasn’t leaving until it was in her possession. “What about the bed frame?”

“Not long enough.”

Theo’s voice was muffled, indicating he wasn’t near the perforated boards. She had been fortunate to escape any serious injury. Had she been incapacitated, nothing Theo could have found would have helped to excavate her. The shattered wood jutted up at jagged angles, some even spiked with rusted nails. What spoke volumes about her luck was the surrounding ice formations, which could have easily broken her back had she landed on one.

Her breath misted in the harsh beam of her flashlight as she swept it slowly over the debris field around her. She hadn’t wanted to stray too far from her spot, but it was clear after searching for so long that the sketchbook wasn’t among the rotted boards. The plastic on the ice must have carried it farther from the impact zone.

Theo had carefully examined what remained of the wood above her. Upon closer inspection, he had discovered corroded hinges on the backside. What they had thought were merely rotted planks had turned out to be remnants of a cleverly disguised trapdoor.

Self-recrimination filled her as she moaned in frustration.

She should have been more careful. Theo had warned her twice about the weak area in the floor, but she had been so caught up in wanting the cabin to appear untouched that it didn’t even cross her mind when she walked toward the nightstand.

She tipped her head back, squinting into the blackness.

“Theo, I need to spread out a little. I can’t find the sketchbook.”

“Don’t go far.”

Considering she had been stuck in an ice cave for the past half hour, she had given a lot of thought to the trapdoor. Jacob was highly intelligent, so it didn’t surprise her that he would want another means of escape.

Could such an assumption point to the presence of another exit nearby?

Sylvie was about to say the same to Theo when a sudden scraping noise echoed nearby. She stiffened, the hair on her neck prickling at the realization that she might not be alone down here. Gripping her flashlight tighter, she swung its beam toward the source of the sound. The light sliced through the shadows, exposing the jagged walls in all their wonder.

“Theo?” Sylvie tried her best to keep the unease from her voice. “Are there any animals that live in ice caves? Anything big enough to pose a threat?”

“Ice worms, maybe?” A moment of silence followed, which did nothing to lessen her anxiety. “I mean, bears might find shelter in caves during winter, but I don’t think it would be an ice cave.”

Theo’s tone lacked conviction, and she thought she heard him mumbling something about being glad it was summer. While she wasn’t thrilled to learn that ice worms existed, she assumed any larger wildlife was likely more afraid of her than she was of them.

“Okay,” Sylvie said to herself before measuring her breaths to steady her heart rate. “Just worms. Small ones. I probably can’t even see them.”

She angled her flashlight downward as she continued searching the sketchbook. By repositioning the beam, she floodlit the larger of the two passageways. Given the slight slope, the outer plastic of the evidence likely allowed the sketchbook to slide in that direction.

“Sylvie, I’m going outside for a minute. The only things long enough to reach you are the boards from the outhouse. I’ll lower some down, and we can rig something for you to climb up.”

“Sounds good.”

It wasn’t as if she had any other ideas to escape this place. She strained to catch any hint of the scraping sound, but all she could hear was her uneven breathing. Oddly enough, focusing on her breath calmed her just enough to move toward the left passageway.

“Got you,” Sylvie whispered to herself as a subtle glint reflected off something near a stalagmite about ten feet away. She cautiously made her way forward until she was able to drop to one knee. Ignoring the cold bite of the cave floor through her denim, she picked up the sketchbook, relieved that it was still tucked inside the protective plastic.

Sylvie stood while tucking the evidence under her arm. She was getting colder by the minute, and her fingertips were practically numb. Not that such a natural phenomenon wasn’t beautiful—it certainly was—but she would prefer the experience of an ice cave to be intentional rather than accidental.

The walls shimmered with a captivating blend of ethereal blues and pristine whites. Each surface displayed the intricate handiwork of time and the elements. A delicate lattice of frosted patterns appeared with every sweep of the flashlight’s beam. The patterns weaved through the walls like the finest lace, shifting with every motion.It was utterly beautiful.

Sylvie hadn’t heard Theo return from outside, so she found herself curious now that she had ventured a bit from where she had fallen through the floor of the cabin.

If Jacob had been the one to discover the ice cave and create another way out of the cabin, how deep into one of these passageways would the exit be located?

It couldn’t hurt to explore a bit deeper. She would be careful not to stray down any other tunnel. The ice cave was like a corn maze, and as confusing as a hall of mirrors.

Had Jacob investigated all the passageways?

She wondered how deep the corridors extended inside the mountain and recalled her geology class. If she remembered correctly, some ice caves spanned an entire mountain. If that were the case with this particular ice cave, could that explain why Jacob had led Brook and the others to the opposite side of the mountain? Such a trek would take at least eight to ten hours, depending on the curvature of the cave.

The longer she considered such a theory, the more uneasy she grew about the idea. If Jacob knew those passages thoroughly, he might use that knowledge to escape custody. She pressed her arm tighter against the sketchbook. Was he trying to return to retrieve it? He would have had eleven years to do so, unless he somehow got word that the owner of the land was considering a sale.Maybe Mekhi was wrong about the landowner not selling anytime soon.

Theo really needed to hurry with those long planks from the outhouse. A few of those boards had to be sturdy enough to hold her weight.

Just as Sylvie turned around, the beam of her flashlight swept through the darkness, catching a vague shadow that flickered about twenty feet away. She refocused the light, trying to discern the oddly shaped object.

It took a moment for her mind to process what was in front of her.

She parted her lips, but her voice couldn't produce any sound. She stood there, temporarily frozen, just like the human head that had been perched atop a stalagmite.

The face was mutilated beyond recognition by the assault of a sharp blade. Beneath the damaged flesh, bone was exposed, and the hair, clumped with congealed blood, offered no clue to its natural color. The mouth, contorted in a silent scream, was only evident because the jaw dangled limply from one side.

This was the final piece of the puzzle.

She was the reason Jacob wanted to return to Alaska. The anniversary of her death was in June. She was the one victim whose death had changed Brook’s life forever. The final piece of his shattered psyche, hidden away in this glacial vault, and he couldn’t wait to share it with his sister.

Jacob had even carved the young girl’s name into the rock and ice above the shrine—Sally Pearson.