The dry red plains terminated in a sudden, sheer drop of black volcanic stone that plunged four hundred paces down into a colossal circular crater.
Caleb Conway pulled up his stride at the rim, his hand raising slightly to halt the advancing column. Beside him, Iris reined in her white courser with a soft clinking of silver bits, while Gideon and Mara planted their star iron pavises into the rim rock, anchoring the front line of ninety weary, dust-covered disciples. The wind howling across the upper wasteland failed to pierce the depression below, where the air rested warm, damp, and overwhelmingly sweet with the rich scent of century-old medicinal soil, blooming blood lotus blossoms, and unrefined ginseng marrow.
Spread across the basin floor lay a vast botanical terrace untouched by th
