Outside the hidden door, both women were seated.
Not together. Wei Lingyue had found the stone dais's lower step and occupied it with the composed verticality of a princess who does not sit on the floor unless the floor is the only available option and even then does it correctly. Chen Yun was cross-legged on the cave floor three feet away, demon sword across her knees, pendant humming.
They had been talking.
The quality of the silence when the stone door opened was the silence of a conversation that had recently concluded—the particular absence of sound that follows people who have been discussing something and have arrived at an insufficient conclusion.
Cang stepped through the door.
Both women looked at him.
"I have cleared the traps," he said. "You can enter now."
Wei Lingyue stood in one precise motion. "How long—"
