The fingers curled over Aylin's broken blue splinter and knocked with it.
Skin struck saltglass. The sound was too soft to carry far, yet Aylin recoiled as if the buried western bell had hit her between the shoulders.
The hand knocked again, harder this time.
Blood welled beneath one torn fingernail and slipped into a pale seam in the wall.
Orra pointed at the spreading blood. "Sand. Now."
Ista was already on her knees. She poured a dry line beneath the bleeding finger while Rian and two hunters screened the corridor behind them. The black-green stain that had followed Aylin's broken seal reached the edge of the sand and wandered along it, searching for dampness.
Aylin carried Jiang closer in Pell's shirt. "Can you tell if she's alive?"
Jiang stared at the fingers. They were warm enough to cloud the glass around each joint, but stored road heat could imitate warmth. Blood proved a body had been hurt. It did not prove that body still lived.
