The farther Pei Jing went from the gorge, the colder the air grew. It was a dry cold, nothing like the sea. Iron dust lay across the floor in sharp little ridges. He watched a loose patch pull itself into line as he passed.
Fifty paces ahead stood a wall of dark green star iron. This was a second gate, past the gorge and the outer bronze doors. The round star-iron slab sat flush with the wall and measured eight paces across. It had no dragons or clouds carved on it. Five rings ran around a central hub, with straight channels cut across them. Above the hub was Sword Sovereign Xiao’s mark, a triangle around a lever balanced off center.
Pei Jing stopped ten paces short. Four bodies in Azure Cloud silk lay scattered across the floor. What was left of a Grade-3 Earth-Splitting Thunder Talisman lay beside them. It was the sort of thing a sect could use to bring down a fortress. The floor was pitted and the men’s robes were burned, but there was only a smear of soot on the gate.
He crouched at the edge of the scorch mark and rubbed a little ash between his fingers. The blast had gone straight back at the men who set it off. Whatever Xiao had put behind the gate, it had held.
