A/N: Welcome to my new story. I decided to add this little author's note because I've gotten a fair amount of (bitchy) complaints regarding the lack of recognizable characters. This is true. There are only OCs in the prologue. However, the story follows Harry, who is introduced in the first chapter. I'd advice to read the prologue and the first chapter before abandoning the story for lack of recognizable characters.

One last thing I also get a lot of: this story is not slash Harry/Terry. They're there because this site asks for spoilers in the description. I don't care for it. Harry is in the story. Terry is in the story. (And others as well). They will not, under any circumstances, no matter the amount of alcohol involved, bond their souls to have hot buttsex.

And now, pull open the red curtain...

OVERTURE

Prologue

"It's going to break!"

"Keep going," hollered Jiggs over the whining of the drill. "We're almost there!"

The drill operator, a man by the name of Jon whose last name Jiggs had never bothered to learn, cast a dubious glance at the excavation leader. Nonetheless he obeyed, directing the drill to go deeper. The crew watched on, knee-deep in the snow, wondering if this could really be the end of their ill-planned expedition.

Jiggs forgot about the whistling wind that knifed at his thick clothing. He forgot about a week out in the middle of nowhere. He even forgot that his boss had decided to assign minimal funding to his expedition, forcing him to draw out of his own accounts. His unexplainable epiphany to dig for a new specimen in northern Scotland would pay off today.

The drill slowly went deeper and deeper. The harsh whining grew louder. Sweat formed on the operator's brow, but one swift look at Jiggs told him that the excavation leader was not about to stop now. According to the ground study, they were almost there, a mere foot away…

The high-pitched noise of the drill suddenly grew louder, its revolutions spiked. The crew stepped back in alarm, and the operator quickly pushed the lever to the top. He sat holding the controls, panting, his ears still ringing despite the protective earplugs.

As the drill stopped moving, all eyes went to Jiggs, who stood a few feet away from the bulky machine, expressionless. He never swore. He never complained. Instead, he sighed, as if everything were a huge disappointment, and ordered the drill's head to be replaced as soon as possible. He turned his back on the excavation site and lit a cigarette, cupping his hands against the bitter wind.

"It'll take a while, sir," Jon complained. "And it's getting dark. We'll have to wait 'till tomorrow."

Jiggs stared at his drill operator, annoyed. It had no noticeable effect on him or the rest of the crew. He had discovered early on that the team he had hastily assembled held no fear or respect for him. Only the harsh weather ensured their productivity, as he had agreed to pay a flat amount for their work.

"Fine. We're done for the day. Pack up and let's get out of here."

The crew cheered in subdued fashion and began collecting their gear. They hadn't been looking forward to three more hours of work in the snow.

As the men milled about, packing tools and protective garment on the back of multiple trucks, Jiggs felt a slight tremor beneath his feet. He froze, cigarette halfway to his mouth. Nobody except Jon seemed to have felt it. Their eyes met. Fear fed on each other's unease.

Jon bolted.

Jiggs cursed.

The ground gave out.

"Move! Clear the area!"

Jiggs heard the shouts as a horrible sinking sensation settled on the pit of his stomach. Snow, drill and rock collapsed all around him. It happened fast, but on instinct his arms reached out, frantically looking for purchase. His hands slipped on the damp, hard rock, something struck his temple, the world blurred.

And he was falling, falling, falling…

He came to what felt like hours later. His head was pounding and his body felt battered and listless. There were rocks and pieces of random equipment strewn all around and over him, and his cigarette, now damp and limp, sat on a flat, wet surface inches away from his head.

Jiggs chuckled and coughed and marveled that he was still miraculously alive.

Slowly, feeling for injuries, he cleared the dust and rocks off his body and climbed to his feet, swaying unsteadily on the uneven ground. The fall hadn't been long; otherwise no amount of luck would have saved him. It was dark save for a pool of light that shone down from a hole three feet wide on the surface, illuminating debris and equipment.

And there, lying like a broken doll over the jagged rocks, was Jon. His blood looked oddly bright. A large, bloody piece of rock rested next to what was left of the man's head. The fall had twisted his hips in an impossible angle, and his arm was crushed and crooked.

Jiggs listened to the calls of his crew on the surface as he bent over and retched violently. He heaved and coughed and wished he had some water. Throat itchy and dry, he looked up, squinting against the harsh light.

"I'm okay," he called as loud as he could, still coughing. "Toss me a rope."

"Where's Jon?"

Jiggs swallowed and risked another glanced at the man's broken body. Would they blame him for Jon's death? Many of them had been close friends with the drill operator.

"I – I'm sorry," he replied. "Jon didn't make it."

He looked around. Nobody else had been close enough to fall with them.

Although he couldn't see them, he thought he felt the team's anger and grief. Jiggs cursed the ground study. It had shown a possible find down here, not a bloody cave…

He turned and more carefully studied his surroundings. It was too dark to see much. An uncomfortable weight against his leg reminded him of his flashlight, which he fished out of his pocket. He tried the switch. It still worked.

The rope ladder clattered against the wall as the men lowered it, but he was no longer paying attention. Stunned, Jiggs slowly angled the beam of light higher, following a vaguely humanoid figure's body, revealing, legs, waist, torso and head…

It was a huge statue, easily twelve feet tall. The head was too large for the body, with pointed ears and wrinkled skin, expertly carved on the aged marble. It was holding a monstrous battleaxe over its head, mouth open in a defiant roar. Two glowing gems – rubies? – had been fixed into its eye sockets.

Jiggs realized he was hardly breathing. He turned and looked up to find his team waiting expectantly for him to climb up. But the statue… He aimed the light at it again and kept staring, afraid it would vanish if he left, that it would all be product of a concussion.

"Get down here now," Jiggs heard himself saying over the pounding inside his head. "Bring the lights. You don't want to miss this."

He didn't wait for an answer.

His feet carried him forward of their own accord. The marble was smooth and perfect to the touch. He aimed the flashlight behind the statue, but the place appeared to be bigger than he had thought. Only a rough wall could be seen to the left. There seemed to be a passage that ran deeper into the cave, where the light couldn't reach.

It occurred to Jiggs that he had to document this immediately. In a burst of inspiration, he pulled out his mobile phone, praying for the thing to work. He tried a few buttons and grinned when the screen lit up. It was scratched and notched, and still wonderfully functional. He started the camera.

Seconds later, a terrified scream shattered his fixation on the statue.

Jiggs turned and hurried over to the bottom of the hole, fearing someone had fallen in their haste to descend. However, the only body there belonged to Jon. He was no longer troubled by the grotesque sight of it, filled as he was by the wonder of his discovery. But who…?

More screams added to the first. Over the whistling of the wind, Jiggs heard grunts and cries of pain. A sickly green light flashed somewhere on the surface, briefly illuminating his surroundings. He was about to call out in alarm, to demand to know what was going on. But something held him back. Slowly, he stepped away from the pool of light, heart pounding in his chest. He switched off the flashlight and waited.

The screams soon died to nothing. Jiggs' senses seemed to sharpen; water dripped somewhere deeper in the cave; the wind howled and whistled, rising and falling, almost musical. The damp, musty smell of the cave suddenly smelled of death to him, and he fought the urge to flee into the dark behind him.

A figure poked its head over the side of the opening. It was a short, stocky thing, with leathery skin and long, pointed ears. Its face was clouded in shadow, but the eyes were bright and focused, darting around the collapsed rock, barely pausing over Jon's broken body.

Jiggs was too stunned to move, and it probably saved his life. The creature sniffed twice, grunted something unintelligible and waited. For a panicked second those dark, glittering eyes seemed to settle on Jiggs, who stood frozen against the front of the statue, just barely out of sight. But the moment passed, its nose twitched, the eyes moved.

The creature grunted again. Jiggs realized with dawning horror that it was talking. Another, slightly higher voice responded, and then the creature was gone.

He remained still for a long time, listening to the frantic beating of his heart, certain that the creature would hear it and vault inside the cave after him.

A short, low beep sounded in the dark as his mobile phone's battery died.