He hooked his fingers over protrusions in the rock wall and planted his feet in its natural hollows, climbing upward one step at a time. He scaled the ten meters in less than fifteen seconds. He pushed aside the stone slab covering the top of the shaft-the slab was heavy, at least 150 kilograms, but that was nothing to him-and sunlight poured through the opening, washing over his face, neck, and chest like a great basin of warm water.
Guy climbed out of the shaft, stood on the ground, and drew deep lungfuls of surface air. It was cold, but much warmer than the air in the underground river. The air down there had been so cold that breathing hurt his throat, as though he had swallowed a handful of crushed ice.
Neji, Tenten, and Chisen climbed out of the shaft one after another.
Chisen came out last. He replaced the slab, but left a gap less than a finger wide instead of sealing it completely. Not for ventilation, but so they could hear sounds from below. If anyone followed them through the underground river, that gap beneath the slab would carry the sounds up-water, footsteps, breathing. Any sound would leak through it, amplified as though by a magnifying glass until they could hear it clearly from the surface.
The four of them stood on the ground north of the mine. It was a stretch of wasteland, covered in broken stones and mining slag, without a blade of grass. A small hill stood in the distance, its summit bare of trees. Only a few weathered rocks remained, shaped like a group of crouching, silent people with indistinct faces. North of the hill lay a deep valley thick with bamboo. The stalks were tall and tightly packed, knocking against one another