The canyon looked like a wound carved into the earth.
Someone had cut through the mountains with brutal force, leaving walls that dropped nearly three hundred feet from the rim to the floor below. Dark veins of iron ran through the stone, some of them as thick as tree trunks, glowing faintly with amber energy from somewhere deep inside the rock. The canyon stretched for half a mile, winding through the frontier mountains like a giant scar. From above, the foundry at the bottom was almost impossible to see unless you stood at the right angle.
Holden lay flat near the canyon's edge, his chin close to the ground as he scanned everything below. Behind him, the rest of Team Soup stayed low, hidden behind a rocky ridge overlooking the canyon. None of them spoke. They were watching the foundry, studying the guards, the structures, and every possible route into the fortress.
The foundry was a nightmare.
