Yan took three uneven steps toward the boulder. Sleet stuck to his brows.
“Sun. Find him. Take the crossbow. If he dropped a charge in the crack, drag him out.”
Sun gripped the hammer until his knuckles went white. He looked back toward the entrance. Ling stood on his boulder with his hands behind his back, still watching the south. He hadn’t turned yet. If he had to, he would want the delay to end fast.
“Yes, Senior Brother.”
Sun set the hammer down, took his repeating crossbow off the harness, and checked the five bolts in its magazine. The lever clicked. He held the crossbow at his right hip and drew a serrated dagger in his left hand.
He crossed the shale slowly. Four paces took him to Zhao’s empty station. The unused charm lay where Zhao had set it beside his drill. Sun picked it up and tucked it next to his own. Then he followed the smell of sulfur around the boulder.
The recess behind it was three paces wide. The overhang took most of the wind, and water fell into a frozen puddle. An empty tool bag and a pair of pigskin mittens lay in the recess.
