The ironwood felt cold and slick. Pei Jing knelt before the door and set his wicker pack on the stones. From his breast pocket he took Gui’s oiled pigskin roll and spread it across his thigh.
Six tools lay inside. Three bronze probes, a thin curved wrench, an ivory-handled needle, and a vial of almond oil.
He remembered the Three-Vessel Mercury Ward from Gui’s directions. Gui had built it during the early trips after he opened the workshop. He’d said a talisman master could read the qi from a spiritual seal, but this lock gave off none.
Pei Jing studied the plate. The keyholes stood beside the latches he had spotted. Behind the steel tumblers and the round windows, three thin glass vessels held a silvery liquid. Forcing a latch would break the glass. In a room with air this still, the poison would reach him before he could get out.
The little copper key from beneath Gui’s floorboards fit the bottom lock. The other two would have to be brought into line first. Pei Jing saw two shallow marks cut beside the upper windows. They reminded him of Gui’s trail marks. The longer stroke lay by the left window and crossed toward the right. He would try that side first.
