Isha found the first fresh footprint before the morning heat reached the valley floor.
It crossed the old road on day 1285, broad enough to hold a shallow pool from the previous night’s rain. Fine reed fragments lay pressed into its outer edge. Farther down the slope, two Marchers fed among the mineral shelves beside the river. A third stood above them with its head turned toward the passage people usually used.
None was Reed-of-Glass, Keeps-the-Three-Runnels or either body beneath Ember Wash’s comparison room. These animals belonged to the place in front of the travelers, not to a convenient distant identity carried between scenes.
Isha stopped the two pack animals at the upper turn. “We do not take the road beneath that one.”
The old map showed a clear route. The fresh footprint occupied the map’s easiest bend.
Kesh put her pack down and watched before making a sound. The standing body had dark layered ridges and a long pale groove across its forward plate. Its lower limb rested beside the shallow stream that crossed the road. Every few breaths the other two shifted their feeding position, exposing new strips of mineral ground.
“They may be keeping the water clear while they feed,” Sera said.
