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I wouldn't have found that nearly so quickly
, he admits.

I hand him his canteen and tuck my own away.
I guess I'm of some use after all.

He smiles at that.
General, you've long since proved your use.

Don't call me—
My hands drop as my eye catches something in the trees beyond him. Seeing my change of expression, he turns, searching for what I noticed. Soon he sees it too: the large, looming shape of a building on the other side of the trees. Turning back to me, he meets my eyes, and I give a quick nod of agreement. We head in that direction . . .

. . . and find not one but many buildings.

We have stumbled onto a small village—much smaller than our own but clearly meant to have some permanency. The implications of this are staggering, and we both stare around wide-eyed. No one in our village has had any contact with the outside world, short of the line keeper's notes. Entering this settlement is akin to having fallen into one of the magical lands in the old stories.

No one's been here for a while
, Li Wei says, pointing at some of the disrepair on the buildings. I see instantly what he's
referring to. The wood is worn, even rotted in some places, and the elements have long won out. We split up and walk around, and I feel a mix of both excitement and apprehension. Once again, I find myself thinking in terms of the record, how I would report on this amazing discovery. For the most part, the little houses are built similarly to ours, but I spy minute architectural differences that fascinate me. I wish I'd brought ink and paper for notes. I'll have to rely on my own memory to share this when I get back home.

I find a house with a door hanging ajar, having rotted out of its holdings. I push it all the way open and again hear that sound doors make that I have no word for.

Inside, the house reminds me of the modest home Zhang Jing and I grew up in. It is built with three bays, and a deteriorating screen blocks the rest of the house from my view. There is a large clay stove that has been cold for some time and looks as though its most recent use was by nesting birds. A small shrine marks where the household gods sat with burned-out clumps of candle wax.

I pick up a statue nestled in the shrine. It's mostly made of ordinary clay, but the detail in the carving is exceptional. It is a pixiu, its leonine head held proudly up as its mouth opens in a roar. Rubbing off some of the dirt on it, I see that the horns and wings are tipped with gold. Li Wei will want to see this, if only to admire the craftsmanship. Taking it feels a little like stealing, but it is clear no one has been here for a while and the statue has been abandoned.

Holding it in one hand, I walk over to the screen that separates this living space from the sleeping area. The screen is worn and rotting, with no design or ornamentation. When I touch it to move it away, part of the screen crumbles, and the whole thing collapses, kicking up dust. I step back, coughing and covering my face. When the dust finally settles again, I blink a few times and at last get a glimpse beyond the screen—

—and find myself face-to-face with a family of human skeletons grinning at me with sightless faces.

A SCREAM CATCHES IN MY THROAT,
and I back up as quickly as I can. The little pixiu statue slips from my fingers and hits the floor with a thud. I barely notice. I want nothing to do with this place. I need to get out.

I run through the living area and out the door—and straight into Li Wei. For a moment, I'm so panicked that I don't even realize it's him. I start to struggle against him and finally still when a glimmer of familiarity—the feel of his strong arms around me—is able to penetrate my fear. For a moment, I allow myself to relax in his embrace and then step back, still trembling.

Are you okay?
he demands.
What's wrong?

I have no words. I simply shake my head and point at the door. Li Wei gives me a once-over and proceeds toward the house to investigate. By the time he returns, I have calmed down a little. I'm embarrassed to show such weakness, but the memory of those grinning skulls is haunting. Li Wei wears a tight expression, and I see he's carrying the statue I dropped.

What are you doing?
I ask.
We shouldn't take anything. This place is cursed.

Li Wei tucks the little pixiu into his pocket.
That house, perhaps, but not this statue. The carving is incredible. I've heard about statues like these. People used to keep them in their homes for prosperity and good fortune.

It didn't help these people
, I point out.

Li Wei's face turns grimmer.
I don't know what happened in there, but I think it has little to do with the supernatural and more to do with man. Let's check out the rest of these buildings and figure it out.

Maybe he's right. This village is too similar to our own. We have to find out what happened here to ensure that our village doesn't share this one's fate.
How do you suggest we search?
I ask.

Wait here
, he says. He hurries off into the largest building in the settlement, one that looks less like a house and more like some sort of administrative or educational facility. It's eerie being left alone in this ghostly village, but I refuse to let superstition get the best of me. When Li Wei comes back out, there is excitement on his face.

It's just as I was hoping. There are records in there, almost like what we keep. It looks like this was where their elders resided.
Can you get started going through those writings? They might be able to tell us what happened here, and you're better at understanding that sort of thing than I am.

What are you going to do?
I ask.

He gestures around.
Continue searching the rest of the
houses. I think those records will have most of our answers, but we need to rule everything out.

Be careful
, I say.

He nods, heading off toward one of the houses.

I watch him a few moments and then turn toward the administrative building. It's smaller than the art school at home or our magistrate's center, but then, this village is also much smaller. The building is in a similar state as the house I was just in, smelling of dust and decay. But thankfully there are no skeletons or other signs of the dead to keep me company.

The room Li Wei referred to is similar to our library at the Peacock Court, and it has kept out the worst of the moisture and other damaging elements. Wall racks hold a neat collection of scrolls, and the rest of the room is dedicated to storing what looks like this village's equivalent of daily records. They're smaller than ours and not nearly as elaborate as the murals we create, nor do they show the artistic flair and precision that we are encouraged to put into our work. But they are factual and orderly and contain the information I need to unravel what has happened in this village. I make myself comfortable and begin reading scrolls by the dusty light filtering in from a high window.

What I discover is shocking. Numbing, even. I lose track of time and am only startled out of my study when I hear Li Wei's steps in the adjacent hall.
Did you find anything?
I ask when he enters. I manage to appear calm, but inside, I'm reeling.

More than I wanted
, he tells me.
Most of the homes are empty, but others have bones as well. I don't know what killed them.

I do
, I say, setting down one of the records.
Starvation and sickness.
My attempts at control begin to falter. My hands are shaking, and I clasp them in my lap. It's not fear that has unsettled me so much as shock.

Do you want to go outside to talk?
Li Wei asks.
It's getting warmer.

I nod. I feel chilled in this place full of memories and ghosts. I need to be back out in the sun, back among living and growing things. We travel toward last night's camp, but just as we are at the edge of the village, we encounter another gruesome sight: skeletons shackled to a stone block. My stomach turns at the thought of the terrible fate they must have endured there. Characters etched into the stone condemn them for their crime:
food thieves.

With a shudder, I avert my gaze and see Li Wei scowling. I'm not surprised he's upset, considering the way he protected the thief in our village.
This is savage
, he states.
At least our people have never taken punishment to such an extreme.

They might
, I say, thinking of what I learned.
If our village ever has to face what this one did.

What do you mean?
he asks.

We reach our camp, now enjoying the full force of morning sunlight. It helps chase away the gloom of what I uncovered in the library—but only a little. Li Wei looks at me expectantly once we are there.

They were like us
, I tell him finally.
Exactly like us. A mining town. They lost their hearing and became trapped up here,
with no easy way to climb down, but they established a deal with the township. They had their own line and sent metals down the mountain in exchange for food. And just like us, they began to go blind.

Those similarities are still too shocking, too unbelievable, and that's what makes it hard to keep going. This village's history was so much like our own: Had I just taken a walk in my own future? Is this what's in store for us in ten years? Five years? One year? Fear makes me lose track of my story—not for myself, but for those we left behind. What fate is waiting for Zhang Jing? For the masters and other students?

What happened? How did they die?
Li Wei asks, his expression urgent.
Fei, you said starvation?

I swallow and try to regain my composure.
With blindness, their mining output depleted, and just like with us, the township started limiting their food. They weren't exactly like us—they stopped feeding their beggars altogether. The blindness also resulted in more accidents, so some died that way too. Near the end, their water supply got contaminated. The record keepers believed some of the bodies weren't disposed of properly and fouled the water. People grew sick and died before they discovered the problem. It was a couple of years ago, so it eventually cleared
, I add, seeing him shoot a concerned look at our canteens.
By then, there was hardly anyone left. The township stopped food shipments completely, and chaos broke out. Those that didn't die of starvation attempted to climb down, but it's unknown how many made it. The elevation is lower, but from what I've
read, the stone on the cliffs below is softer—more prone to avalanches, less likely to hold ropes and body weight. Some may have escaped. Some didn't. Some may have thrown themselves over purposefully.

I sink to the ground, unable to shake the thought of this happening to our village. Li Wei paces in front of me, his expression dark. He bravely investigated the ghost village, with all its horrors, but now I can tell his resolve is wavering. Or maybe he's just losing hope.

Is this what it comes to then?
he asks.
Is this what our village can expect? Food disappearing altogether? Despair and hopelessness?

We can't know that
, I say.
We can't know anything until we speak to the line keeper. And our village isn't like theirs . . . not yet.

Isn't it?
he asks angrily.
It's already happening! The blindness has started. The metals have decreased. The food has decreased. Just the other day, the township said they were sending less as “punishment.” How much longer until they stop the food? How long until our own people turn on each other in desperation? Is this what my father died for? How many other villages has the township done this to?

I don't know. We must talk to the line keeper.

We need to do something
, he snaps.
But I don't know if talking is enough.

Li Wei is understandably worked up, and I know it's from more than just the gruesome discoveries in this village. The pain
of his father's death is still fresh, making everything that much worse . . . and desperate.

He sighs.
Perhaps there was some misunderstanding with this village. Perhaps they asked for too much.

Perhaps
, I agree.

I can tell we're both trying to put on good faces for each other. In reality, I know we are both filled with doubts. We want to believe the best, that the line keeper can help us, but we've seen and suffered too much. And if the line keeper can't help, then what? It's that uncertainty that casts the real pall over us.

I summon an image of Zhang Jing and muster my courage as I follow Li Wei to a spot he deems suitable for continuing our descent down the cliffs. The warnings of the writings stick with us, and he is extra cautious as he begins planting the ropes into the rock face. Some of the stone is softer in this area, and he won't let us descend until he's certain each stake and rope will hold.

Even though we have less distance to cover than we did the previous day, it's still a long way down to the base of the mountain. Every inch we travel is filled with fear that the rock is going to crumble and loosen our stakes, sending us plummeting. More avalanches tumble after us, and again, my hearing only just saves us on more than one occasion. Sometimes I'm not quick enough, and we both earn new bruises and cuts to go with yesterday's injuries. Adding to all this is the knowledge that we are out of food. Hunger gnaws at the edges of my stomach.

And yet a strange exhilaration is filling me as we get lower and lower and see the ground at the base of the mountain. A lush
valley filled with trees spreads out before us, drawing nearer, and beyond it I can see a haze of green land that looks as though it has no trees at all. Is it possible that's farmland? The library has books about cultivation and growing, but after the avalanches cut off the passes to our village's fertile lands, farming has become as fantastic a concept as flying—or hearing. Dreams of what may be waiting for us spur me on in the last stretch of our climb.

Then, incredibly, we set foot on the ground. I look up and am stunned to see my own mountain and its neighbors towering off into the sky. I can't even see the tops, as early evening clouds have moved in. It's an entirely different perspective from the view I've seen my whole life: peaks surrounding us and mist-covered depths below. I realize I'm standing in the place where my ancestors first migrated from, and that's a heady thought too.

Ready to see what this place has to offer?
Li Wei asks.

He walks over to me to undo the ropes that have bound us together. His hands work deftly on the knots around my waist, and I hope it's not obvious that I'm holding my breath. Again I am amazed at how delicate his touch is for someone so large. When he finishes, his hands linger on my waist a fraction longer than they need to, and then he steps back.

Do you know where to go?
I ask.

He puts a hand up to his eyes and scans around, taking in the sun's position over our mountain. We spent a lot of time in the empty village, and it will be evening soon. After a little scrutiny, he points to the north.

That is where our zip line descends. We've gotten a bit off course climbing down. We'll need to go over there to find its end—to find the line keeper.

I glance down at my dirty clothes and scraped hands, then make note of the late hour.
Maybe we should rest and clean up tonight
, I say.
We aren't in any condition to parlay with a man like him.

Li Wei nods in agreement and adds,
It might very well be dark by the time we make it to his station. Let's explore a little and see if there's a good place for a camp.
He gestures around the expanse of woods.
Any preference?

I shake my head.
You choose.

He hesitates and then pulls out the little pixiu statue. He flips it once in the air and then skillfully catches it one-handed. The pixiu is facing east. Li Wei puts it back in his pack and says,
East it is.

We walk off into the eastern copse of woods, and I am particularly vigilant. I've learned that humans make a lot of noise in overgrown forest like this, so I'm mindful of sounds that might indicate we aren't alone. We run into nothing and no one troublesome, however, and soon find a small glen where a bubbling brook pools slightly before running off through the woods. It's a good spot to rest and clean, though we are nervous about lighting a fire when we might be close to civilized lands. Fortunately it's warmer at this lower elevation, and we decide we can endure the night without a blaze.

You brought extra clothes to meet the line keeper?
Li Wei
asks when he sees me getting out the other set I took from the school.

I shrug.
It just seemed practical. I wasn't thinking about him at the time, but now I'm glad. I want to represent our village honorably.

I guess I'll represent ours the only way I can
, he says, giving a wry glance to his own shirt. It's one of the dingy miners' garments, now torn and dappled with blood from the journey down. He left the white mourning shirt back in the village.
But then, I'm a barbarian, so it's to be expected.