[ A side passageway. A step aside. Should the path truncate and splinter, should new corridors announce themselves — watch, and he does, where the waters thin, where his boot runs into dirt thickened for want of fresh wet to dilute it. There, the flow has parted, and his hand trails the walls, like hollowed sea shells, knocking his fingers, rapping his knuckles, tasting the empty vibration, lost cat's purr.
And if they have no time to discover a newly cut passage, then — his sword. Wangji's sword, calm and resilient and an active danger, thrums beside him. ]
You wish an entryway carved out?
[ His frown dances off Bichen's blade to the crust of the aqueduct, the iron that might yet yield to it, given time, pressure, opportunity. He can see the work done. ]
We chance to land in wall enclosure, or void.
[ Or rooms, he knows, if the belly of the pipelines were only attached to ceilings without protection or burial in. That would suit them. ]
no subject
And if they have no time to discover a newly cut passage, then — his sword. Wangji's sword, calm and resilient and an active danger, thrums beside him. ]
You wish an entryway carved out?
[ His frown dances off Bichen's blade to the crust of the aqueduct, the iron that might yet yield to it, given time, pressure, opportunity. He can see the work done. ]
We chance to land in wall enclosure, or void.
[ Or rooms, he knows, if the belly of the pipelines were only attached to ceilings without protection or burial in. That would suit them. ]