While Resting, Enemy Traces Discovered

Water dripped from Chen Wuya's chin, striking deep dimples into the charred rock chips. He tipped back his head and gulped down the last mouthful of murky water. The movement of his Adam's apple tugged at the old wound in his right arm, and the entire limb still tingled as though it had been scorched by fire. He did not set down the waterskin, merely crushed it flat in his left hand and stuffed it deep into his pack.

Someone in the camp coughed softly; someone else tore strips of cloth to bind a gash in his leg. More than twenty people sat scattered across the sand, weapons laid across their knees, and no one spoke. Bai Zhi crouched beside a stretcher, adjusting the shoulder armor of a sleeping foreign veteran. Her fingertips brushed the pulse at his neck, and her brow twitched almost imperceptibly. Then she rose and walked toward Chen Wuya.

"You should lie down for a while," she said.

"If I lie down, I won't get back up." He braced himself against a rock and straightened, his gaze sweeping over the collapsed ravine in the distance. "That strike just now didn't feel right."

"What was wrong with it?"

"Something underground blocked it for a moment." He raised his left hand and pointed toward the edge of the riverbed. "The fissure is half a foot wider than before, but the sand and gravel were thrown up in the opposite direction. It's like there's a hollow space underneath."

Bai Zhi said nothing, only followed his gaze. Wind swept gray sand through the mouth of the valley, sending a few scorched leaves skimming along the ground. A crow landed on a dead branch and opened its beak, yet made no sound before flapping away.

The two fell silent for a