“There’s my friend, the fisherman,” she said with respect.
He took one off and tossed it to the snow leopard, who began to devour it hungrily. “It wasn’t difficult work. The fish practically jumped out of the hole in the ice. I’ll get more after we’ve cooked these.”
“Let’s not cook them,” Bingmei said, shaking her head. “We’re too exposed, and those dragons have a strong sense of smell. We can eat it raw. After we’ve crossed the Death Wall, the smell of fire won’t stand out so much.”
Quion didn’t particularly like eating fish raw, but it would feel like a feast compared with the dried meat, nuts, and withered fruit since their attack at the cave. He quickly skinned the fish and sliced the flanks into chunks. They had run out of the spices Quion had used on the raw fish before. Bingmei ate several of them, even though she didn’t enjoy the quivering bits of flesh as much as if it had been Quion’s cooking. But they needed their strength after the long marches each day.
After the sun fell, they carved a snow cave from a huge drift of snow. The work helped keep them warm and then they burrowed inside with their gear and Shixian’s basket. The snow leopard coiled near the entrance, as if keeping watch. The snow would hopefully help conceal them from their nightly predators as well as the possibility of wild animals picking up their scent.
Inside the snow cave, they huddled close together and wrapped themselves up in blankets. Bingmei couldn’t use the heat glyph that night—it would melt their shelter—but the tight confinement of the cave would pool their body heat.
“How thick was the ice?” she asked Quion.
He thought a moment and then held his hands apart to show the distance.
“That should support our weight,” she said. “At least I hope it will. We can’t walk through the river on the way back. The cold would kill us.”
Quion nodded in agreement. “Remember how shadowy it was when we passed through last season? I suspect it’ll be colder inside the chasm, which means less melted snow.”
“You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. It took us two days to cross the river maze. After that, there’s the meiwood grove.”
“Let’s go around it this time,” Quion suggested, and Bingmei quickly agreed. The thought of confronting those lions again, even with the leopard, made her grimace.
“At least getting over the Death Wall won’t be a problem,” she said. “You have the cricket, and I can fly over it. Once we’re on the other side, it will be easier to escape to Sihui.”
“You mentioned that you can follow birds in your mind,” he said. “Have you tried it lately? With the changing of the season, the migrating birds should be coming back soon.”
“I haven’t seen many of them yet,” she said. “But you’re right. The change in the weather should start bringing them back. Maybe we’ll see more on the other side of the mountains.”
They continued to talk for a little while after that, and then Quion bunched up in his blankets and nestled on the icy floor by his leopard. Bingmei was tired but not sleepy yet, so she sat in a meditative stance and closed her eyes, controlling her breathing and seeking out any birds in the area. She found some little pine siskins nesting in a tree nearby, along with a red-breasted nuthatch with black stripes around its eyes. She joined a snow owl foraging for food. The thrill of the hunt excited her, especially when it came swooping down and snatched up prey with its sharp talons.
She sensed no birdlife in the mountains themselves, however, so seeing beyond them was still impossible. She found eagles perched in a huge nesting tree, devouring the remains of a small fish. And it was while she was visiting that nest that she saw the Woliu open in the skies above the river maze in the mountains. There were four eagles sharing that tree, and they all lifted their gazes at the colorful lights dancing in the sky. And then she heard the dragons shriek.
Bingmei returned to her own body, nestled inside the snow cave. When she opened her eyes, she found she could see by the ambient light from the Woliu. The greenish glow had penetrated the walls of the snow cave. The basket with Shixian hadn’t moved, and she heard the baby snuffle and sigh, blissfully unaware of the danger flapping on leathery wings overhead.
She could sense them coming. Too many to fight. Reaching out slowly, she took the meiwood staff from where Quion had put it and settled it across her lap. A shriek sounded overhead, making her flinch. They had no idea how close they were.
Bingmei determined to stay awake until they were gone. Sleeping would have been impossible anyway with the danger so close.
They didn’t leave until the sky began to brighten with dawn, the coming daylight finally banishing the Woliu.
Bingmei woke up Quion and told him they needed to leave. She wanted to get through the river maze as quickly as possible. It had taken two days last time, and they would need to camp inside the gorge for at least one night.
After she changed the baby’s soiled clothes and started to feed him, Quion went to the river to wash the dirty garments in the icy river. Bingmei was exhausted from lack of sleep, but she was determined to get them safely away. After the baby was fed, she bundled him up again and strapped him into the basket. He whimpered, wanting to be held.
“I’m sorry, baobei,” she said soothingly, rubbing her cold nose against his warm cheek. “We have to go.”
Once he was strapped inside, she carried the basket out, and Quion returned for his gear. They entered the chasm together. As they started walking,
