At forty-five thousand feet, the wind no longer felt like air. It rasped against Pei Jing’s bracers like a stone wheel. He had found a break in the lower intake where an old feeder channel passed through. On the far side, the wind was cold enough to make exposed metal brittle.
He wore a brass talisman case with a Void-Stabilizing Pellet inside. A strip of Iron-Horn Bull jerky was between his teeth. Keeping the five fires running here cost several times what it did on the ground. He chewed slowly and let the salt and fat go into his blood.
He drew no qi from the air. The surveillance ward had left a pulse in it that could carry straight back to the station. He kept what he needed inside his own skin. The Armored Soul held the warmth down in his marrow.
Seventy days earlier, while training on Sky-Piercing Peak, he had begun practicing how to hide that warmth from the Watchers. Now he stayed still while an amber beam swept over him. It touched his shoulder. He let the little heat it brought pass into his bones and down to his bracers. The beam went on.
He held his breath through the next sweep. By the time the light passed, his back was shaking. He waited until he could move without leaving a trail of heat.
