The earth-escape scroll shone amber in Elder Yan’s hands.
“Hurry,” he said. “Close the circle.”
Chen caught the hem of Yan’s tunic. Lu got his fingers onto the edge of the beast skin. The three men came together near the stake. A low hum ran through the granite. The first part of the scroll had found the vein it needed. In another few breaths, it would draw them into the mountain.
Pei Jing raised his left hand. Twenty-four Thousand-Thread Astral Needles flew from his bracers. The bright threads ran past the three elders and spread toward the corners of the crag. Six struck each of the four bronze stakes.
At the end of the threads, Pei Jing could feel the qi holding up the dome. It was drawn tight enough to keep the rain in the air. The skiff’s engines held the ship above the trees. The dome protected the space under it and kept the gun crews from firing down into the clearing. He felt for the places where the ward held to the rock. His core began to ring at the same pitch.
Then he sent the note back through the stakes. Chaos Qi followed it along the astral threads. The lightning he had caught from the halberd lent the pulse its first sharp edge. The trigrams burned violet. Pei Jing felt the dome’s pull change direction.
