Da Bao suggested that the easiest way to discover whether the hunters meant them harm was to ask the hunters.
Xu Hao considered the proposal for a moment.
"An excellent idea. Shall we introduce ourselves by name, explain that we're hiding from dangerous enemies and invite them to inspect the magical dogs?"
Da Bao frowned. "I wasn't going to mention the dogs."
"Then we're almost safe."
Er Bao put down the strip of cord he'd been studying. It was the same pale fibre Xu Hao had found beneath the marked tree near the stream. The cut end showed a tight, even twist, made by somebody who knew how to prepare a snare.
"We don't need to speak to them," he said. "But we need to know whether they're coming back up this route. If they are, we should move the lower food store and stop using the stream crossing for a while."
Xu Hao was relieved. Watching from a distance sounded much more attractive than trusting Da Bao to behave like a diplomatic envoy.
They went the next morning, after the mist had begun to lift from the valley. Er Bao took Grey. Da Bao left Little One at camp with Sia, much to both his and the dog's disgust. Xu Hao accompanied Er Bao, carrying his bow but no arrows in his hand.
"Why can't Little One come?" Da Bao asked for the third time.
"Because we're observing," Er Bao replied. "Not hunting."
"She's very quiet when she wants to be."
"So are you. Occasionally."
Xu Hao kept his eyes on the ground. He had the feeling that if he laughed, Da Bao would remember another useful task that involved climbing a hill with a heavy basket.
* * *
They stopped on a ledge above the dry creek bed.
From there, Xu Hao could see a narrow path winding between the stones. Old grass had been trampled flat at two places, and the remains of a small fire lay beside the creek. A branch had been driven into the ground with a strip of cord looped around it.
No people.
Da Bao crouched and examined the ashes without touching them. "Cold. Not from this morning."
"How old?" Xu Hao asked.
"A day or two. The rain didn't wash it away because the rock sheltered it."
Er Bao nodded towards a little pile of fish bones beside the stones. "They ate here. Then moved on."
Xu Hao looked at the marks around the fire. There was nothing distinctive about them. A hunter could leave a camp in perfectly ordinary fashion and still be dangerous. He knew that. He also knew how eager he was to see a threat in every abandoned footprint.
"Do you recognise the cord?" he asked.
Da Bao compared it with the scrap they'd brought from camp. "Same kind. Maybe the same maker. But hunters trade cord."
"That sounds remarkably like caution."
"I listen when you talk, little brother."
Er Bao smiled faintly. "Not always."
They didn't descend. Xu Hao would have liked a closer look at the marks around the fire, but Er Bao considered it unnecessary. No tracks turned uphill towards their ridge. A pair of heavier prints continued south along the creek, where the ground became soft enough to show them clearly.
"If they were marking a route back to town," Er Bao said, "this would be a sensible way to travel."
"And if they return?"
"Then we'll see them before they reach our camp."
Xu Hao looked at the open valley. That was something he had not appreciated when they first found the marking trees: distance could be useful without being absolute protection. There was room to watch, time to move, and an opportunity not to be where the hunters expected anyone to be.
They returned without touching the ashes.
On the way back, Xu Hao asked how far the marked path ran towards Hibiscus Town. Er Bao pointed out the shallow descent and the place where the creek would meet a better-used trail. Caravans, he said, preferred the broad road farther south. Hunters used these smaller passages to avoid paying for lodgings and to reach the forest before the animals moved into cover.
Xu Hao asked whether the market in town would recognise the tiger hide they carried. Da Bao said a trader could judge its value by the claws and the condition of the skin. Er Bao warned that a remarkable trophy could attract a remarkable amount of attention. Xu Hao pictured himself entering town with three enormous huskies, a pair of giants and a tiger skin large enough to carpet a room. Keeping a low profile, he realised, was going to require more than learning the local word for ordinary.
* * *
That evening, Xu Hao found Da Bao mending a harness beside the fire.
The giant had been unusually quiet since their return. Little One slept with her muzzle on his knee, and he had one enormous hand buried in the fur behind her ears.
"Are you worried?" Xu Hao asked.
"About the hunters?"
"About whatever you were thinking when we found the tree marks."
Da Bao worked the needle through leather and pulled the thread tight.
"Father marked trails too," he said after a while. "When we were small. Not to find his way home. To tell us where not to go."
Xu Hao sat down across from him.
Da Bao looked into the fire. "There was a courtyard behind our house. Three gates. We were meant to use the northern gate if strangers came. Er Bao always remembered. I used to forget because there were better places to climb out by the wall."
"You were an adventurous child."
"I was an annoying one. Father said so often enough."
Xu Hao smiled, but Da Bao didn't.
"One night there were fires beyond the wall," he continued. "Father woke us and told us to leave. I wanted to get Mother. Er Bao wanted to get everyone. Father said he'd see to it."
His hands stopped moving.
"We waited at the gate. I thought he would bring them. I could hear fighting from the courtyard."
Xu Hao said nothing.
"I went back towards the wall. Er Bao grabbed me. We fought. I hit him." Da Bao swallowed. "He's my twin. I knew that if I died, he'd die too. I still tried to go."
Little One lifted her head at the change in his voice. He rubbed her ears, and she settled again.
"Er Bao dragged me away," Da Bao said. "He did it because Father told him to. I hated him for it. Just for a little while."
Xu Hao studied the man across the fire. The Da Bao he'd known in the forest was loud, reckless, generous and quick to laugh. The boy he'd been was still there beneath those qualities, standing at a gate waiting for somebody who had promised to come back.
"Did you ever learn what happened?" he asked.
"Not enough. We learned the house was gone. We heard that some people escaped. We never found Mother. Father didn't come."
Da Bao turned the needle in his fingers. "Er Bao says we can't go looking until we're strong enough. He says Father would have wanted us alive, even if that meant waiting. I know he's right. I don't always like it."
Xu Hao glanced towards the shelter, where Er Bao was cleaning Grey's coat. He remembered how the quiet brother had positioned himself between danger and the others without being asked. Perhaps that habit had begun at the gate.
"I don't think waiting means you've forgotten them," he said.
Da Bao nodded, though he didn't look up.
* * *
Later, Er Bao joined Xu Hao beside the stream.
"Da Bao told you about the night we left."
"Yes."
"He doesn't talk about it often."
"Neither would I."
They sat on the stone bank, listening to water run over the shallows. Xu Hao had been curious about the brothers' enemies for weeks. He had asked for names, places, anything that might explain why two Blazing Sun cultivators chose a hidden camp instead of a comfortable life in town. Now he found he didn't want to press for details Da Bao had barely managed to speak aloud.
Er Bao seemed to understand.
"Father left us instructions," he said. "He said that if we survived, we were to train until we could face those responsible without throwing our lives away. Da Bao hears the word train and thinks of lifting things. I think Father meant learning restraint too."
"He seems to have taught you well."
"He tried. We were difficult students."
Xu Hao looked towards the fire, where Da Bao was arguing with Little One over a stolen strip of leather. It was difficult to imagine the giant as a boy small enough to be dragged from danger by his twin. It was even harder to imagine the man who had sent them away and then turned back towards the burning house.
"My own parents would have hated everything that's happened to me," Xu Hao said quietly. "They'd insist I stop taking risks. They'd make me eat, sleep, wash properly and visit a doctor."
Er Bao smiled. "Reasonable instructions."
"I haven't followed any of them very well."
"You followed the one about eating."
"Mostly because your brother supervises it."
Er Bao laughed, then grew serious again.
"You asked once why we live here instead of in town. This is part of the answer. We don't want to draw attention until we're prepared. And now we have another reason to be careful."
He looked towards the three huskies beyond the fire.
Xu Hao followed his gaze. "My cards."
"Our family," Er Bao corrected. "That includes the things we choose to protect."
Xu Hao watched the last light leave the water. He had been thinking of the brothers as people strong enough to shelter him. He rarely stopped to think how much they were still carrying themselves.
"Then we should make our plans carefully," he said.
"We should."
"And perhaps tell Da Bao about them only after they're complete."
Er Bao's mouth twitched. "That's also an old family tradition."