Sister Joan traveled several miles from the caves to a distant pinnacle high above the valley floor. From there she could scan the entire horizon unseen. In years past she had usually climbed to the spot once every lunar cycle, but ever since Sister Samara’s dangerous return, she had taken to making the journey every three days.

She shielded her eyes and scanned the valley’s perimeter. She saw nothing, but felt a tingle in the hairs at the back of her neck. Perhaps it was only a wolf or a passing sandstorm. But she sensed an incongruity in the landscape.

To relieve her anxiety, she methodically double-checked her preparations to secure the caves in case of an incursion. She mixed the blinding powders of capsicum and turmeric into leather strips that could be used to hurl a stinging cloud into an intruder’s eyes with a single snap. She also reinforced the false ceiling above the central chamber. With the slip of a hidden lever, several weighty stones would tumble down and seal off the cave.

She knew that an unexpected attack was unlikely, and practically impossible, given their barren surroundings and her constant surveillance. But she also knew that it would be foolish, and perhaps deadly, to be caught unprepared.

CHAPTER 14

A village at the northeastern border of the Great Desert—20 A.D.

Nearly four years since parting ways with his youngest shepherd, Solomon found himself leading his flocks back toward the Great Desert. As of late, he had been troubled by a sense that he needed to return.

His apprehension had only mounted when he began to overhear threatening banter in the villages that skirted the desert. Banter that suggested a rising resistance to The Way and a fresh desire to root out its proponents at whatever cost. And while murderous enemies had gathered before, never had Solomon encountered such a great number of them so close to the secret caves. And it was their rising clamor that made his sleep restless.

The women in the marketplace sat on the ground in front of their wares. One held a basket brimming with lentils.

Solomon approached carrying sacks of grain and fruit. He glanced down at the basket of beans. “Have you no more than that?” he asked.

The woman shook her head. “I began with five full bushels this morning, but a group of explorers bought nearly all I had.”

“Explorers?” he asked.

“Yes,” the woman replied. “The men who have gone to search the northern plain.”

Solomon froze. His face drained of blood. For it was fissures in the northern plain that opened into the Sisters’ domain. “Why would they wish to explore such godforsaken land?” he croaked.

The woman glared up at him. Shrugged. “How should I know?” She poured the remainder of her lentils onto a scale. “If you are interested in more beans, I can ask my neighbor.”

Unable to gather himself, Solomon nodded slowly.