Anna sat back. She realized that Ruth’s story had begun to explain many of the things she had been aching to know. And suddenly felt the need to sit and consider all she had heard. Still, there was one phenomenon about which she remained baffled. “Would you tell me just one more thing?” she asked.

“Yes?”

Anna reached down and lifted the last pink fruit. “I want to know where these come from.”

Ruth let out a merry laugh. “I knew you would ask that!” She leapt to her feet, her rotund body animated by a mixture of excitement and anticipation. “First, tend to your injured sheep, then join me outside the center entrance.”

When Ruth saw Anna coming, she started down the ridgeline.

Anna’s face fell. “Are we not going into the main chamber?” she asked.

“No,” Ruth said.

Anna tried to hide her disappointment. She had not gone inside the main caves since her arrival and was eager to explore them.

When they were a short distance from the main entrance, Ruth stopped and pressed her palm against the face of rock. Within a moment, a seamless door rolled open. It was the westernmost entrance that Anna had seen the Sisters passing through each morning.

As they stepped inside, Anna swooned in the embrace of lush, humid air. The extravagant dampness was in stark contrast to the barren terrain’s dry breath.

She hesitated.

How could the air be so full of life in the middle of a desolate land?

“This way,” Ruth said.

At the end of a narrow corridor to the right, Ruth again turned another invisible door. The air that rushed out felt invigorating and alive. Ruth lit a lamp and led Anna down a tight passage. At Ruth’s urging, Anna bent to slip through a tight doorway. Once through, she found herself standing inside a voluminous chamber. When her eyes adjusted to the light, her mouth fell open.

The great spherical room throbbed with the luxuriance of leafy green life. Rising from the center, anchored by a web of serpentine roots, was an ancient sycamore fig tree. Its massive moss-covered trunk, like the tree Anna had known in her youth, divided early and launched a flock of great, knobby arms into the sky. Its swollen and generous canopy pressed upward as if it wanted to lift the roof. Narrow shafts of sunlight spilled through cracks in the ceiling and sparkled along the dark green leaves. Clusters of pinkish fruits flamed along the branches. Wasps circled between the upper branches, performing their ancient and instinctual dance. A dazzling yellow snake slithered around an outer limb and dropped gracefully to the one below.

Anna could not believe her eyes. Even in her wildest dreams, she could not have imagined such—

“The Tree of Life,” Ruth whispered.

“But … how …” Anna stammered. Her eyes fanned across the room.