Valentine sliced through the last bit of vegetation and stepped forward into the clearing. He froze. The machete slipped from his hands. Beside him, Wellington dropped to his knees and crossed himself. Everett swore.
“This is the team’s last known location?” asked Valentine.
“Yes, Mr. Valentine,” replied Briggs.
Valentine stared at the ring of stones standing somberly in a perfect circle.
“Stonehenge in the jungle,” whispered Everett. He swore again.
The missing team’s equipment was littered around the monument, as if it had been abandoned suddenly.
The earth in the center of the ring was charred.
“Scriptorium,” whispered Valentine. “The Door exists.”