The way station had burned before it was abandoned.
Black timber protruded from the stone walls. A roof gutter had fallen into the yard, where a shrub grew through it. Beyond the ruined stable, two ore carts stood on a short stretch of track which ended in weeds.
Pip smelled the axles before Ysabet saw them.
It went directly to the nearest cart and pressed its jaw against the iron. The whole vehicle gave a hollow knock.
“Wait,” she said.
Pip backed off, impatient but listening.
Chaska walked around the cart. “There’s enough here for days.”
Ashaun knelt at the wheel hub. She scraped away dirt with a flat stone and uncovered a stamped mark.
