The ridge relay post stood above Pinehook, where the pine road bent toward the northern shelters. Fen, its keeper, had cleared the stone platform of snow and old pine needles. A narrow strip marked the attuned point on the parapet.
Wei gave Yan a folded report. “Send this to the next prepared relay. The northern team needs to know the ford is open.”
Fen checked the signal markers and compared them with the route map. “The ridge station is beyond the lantern’s reliable range.”
Yan unfolded the report. It named the inland ford, the current reading, and the number of carts that had crossed. “How far beyond?”
“Far enough that the image may appear here and still fail to reach the next station.” Fen pointed to a ridge line on the map. “The prepared marker is past that rise.”
Tew stood nearby with his courier bag over one shoulder. He had carried messages between these paths before. “There’s a footpath through the pines. It reaches the next marker, though it takes longer.”
“Take the written report,” Wei said. “Carry the exact status. Don’t say the north relay received it until you have an answer.”
Tew repeated the destination and the message. “Inland ford open, current three feet at the center, carts crossing one at a time. Northern team needs the same reading.”
