She went into the valley with a camera. She came out with eighty-three photographs. She does not remember taking the last one.
Lila Cole has spent eleven years documenting the world's most dangerous places. When National Geographic sends her to an unmapped valley in western China-a place that appears on no civilian map and that the locals describe with a particular kind of terror, not the theatrical kind, but the quiet, certain kind that lives in the body-she expects difficult terrain, not the impossible. But something has been in that valley for two thousand years. Something that has been trying, in every communication, to be known. And it has killed everyone who came looking for the wrong reasons. The camera is the distance between you and what you've seen. In the valley, that distance collapses. What the images capture is not what Lila sees. And what Lila sees is changing. The valley remembers everyone who stays too long. After a while, you can't tell where the stone ends and you begin.