The Tibetan replied in a forlorn whisper, “If the cave is truly gone, the gods are trapped.”

Shan found himself unable to answer. He reached into his tunic pocket and searched for the cones of incense he often kept there, then handed the man all he had, six cones, and his box of matches. “You are not forgotten,” he said, feeling painfully inadequate.

“Maybe we should be,” the worker said. “Maybe we shouldn’t light incense to call in protecting spirits. I’m not sure we deserve it.”

Shan cocked his head in question.

“Because of what we’re doing,” another man explained. Half a dozen Tibetans had now gathered near Shan. “We’re destroying the gods’ home.”

“The gods’ home isn’t a few feet of soil on the valley floor,” Shan said, and gestured toward the surrounding mountains. “You haven’t destroyed their home. You haven’t trapped them, at least not for long. You’ve just confused them. Let them know you are here.”

The man who had taken the incense considered Shan’s words and began to nod, joined by others. Someone brought a flat rock and put a cone on it as another struck a match.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Shan asked.

“Yeshe,” a man said, and reached inside his shirt to produce a small copper gau on a strand of braided leather. “He was attacked. We worry about him.” The Tibetan nodded toward a small building behind the mess hall, fifty yards away, that Shan had not noticed. A sign on the path leading to it said Infirmary. Shan accepted the gau and the man backed away with a grateful nod.

The well-fed Chinese woman at the desk inside the infirmary door was watching a movie on a laptop and gave only a disinterested glance as Shan walked past her. Behind the screen that separated her desk was the ward, with six beds. Only two were occupied, one by a sleeping Chinese man with his ankle in a fresh plaster cast. The second patient was a Tibetan in his thirties who shuddered as Shan drew near. He closed his eyes as if pretending to sleep.

“My name is Shan,” Shan said in Tibetan. “I come from Yangkar. The monastery town.” It was the first time he had given voice to the description, but it was how he was beginning to think of the town. “Hold the dagger in your heart,” he added after a moment.