Jue came down the lower road carrying a narrow seal etched with binding marks. He held it in his left hand and a blade in his right. The weapon had a dark edge that caught the morning light.
He saw Yan’s projection beside the bridge and threw the seal at it.
The paper crossed the stone and struck the lantern’s shimmer. A line of black marks spread over the image. The light broke apart, then returned as a wavering outline beside Han.
The lantern rattled against its stone base. Han put one hand over it to keep it from tipping while the seal’s ink crawled along the projection. The lines crossed Yan’s shoulders and arms, then fell away like ash. The image returned, but its face blurred at the edges.
“Can you still hear me?” Yan asked.
The outline gave a faint pulse.
Han glanced at the marker. “I hear you.”
“The seal is on the relay.”
