The older land itself seemed to sigh, to slow. The dead posts marked the road at widely scattered intervals, some lying half-buried, but others still upright, their faces pitted and abraded by the wind. No barrier lights burned along the road, and no fresh camps marked the stone. Even the dust settled, as if no living groups had passed this way in some time.
Sera moved along with her hand near her blade, her gaze over her shoulder. "I do not trust places left empty."
"Empty places still have masters," Istra countered. "They simply cease to advertise their presence."
Rhel indicated a low crest ahead where a darker strip of stone broke the pale ground. "There. One of the outlying garrisons. If any of Caels local marks survived this far inland, it will still be found there."
