Kaelen Vance tossed his straw hat onto the wooden stool and rubbed his eyes with both wrists.
His joints felt loose and pleasantly rested. The volcanic warmth drifting up from Crater Island’s subterranean vents had kept his lower back completely free of morning stiffness.
Across the boiling waters of the caldera, a deafening roar tore through the sulfurous air.
Chief Pill-King Helios gripped the iron crank of Platform One’s winch with both hands. With a frantic heave, he hoisted the massive bronze lid from his golden sun cauldron.
A pillar of crimson fire and molten light shot three hundred feet into the sky.
The pungent scent of roasted ginger, sun-orchid nectar, and scorched dragon bone rolled across the amphitheater in a heavy wave. Spectators stood on their stone benches, shouting in delight as golden sparks rained over the water.
Helios raised a brass pair of tongs high above his head.
Clamped between the tongs was a crimson sphere the size of a pigeon egg. Eight vivid golden rings circled its polished equator, pulsing with the radiant heat of trapped stellar energy.
