Markhor had trained himself to be ready for anything. He reached into his pack and pulled out a heat-resistant blanket similar to one used by men who fight forest fires. He was eager to get started and just as eager to finish. Dai She looked away quickly, but not before Markhor saw a glimmer of admiration. “Ready when you are,” he said. “Tell me what you need.”

Twenty minutes later, Markhor emerged, drenched in sweat, straining to carry a crystal rod four feet tall and a foot in diameter. A normal man might have lasted only half as long. But a normal man did not have the essence of a Wand Master. He quickly rummaged in his pack and drained the electrolyte fluid from his canteen. He knew water would not be sufficient to prevent dehydration but now worried that he had not brought enough of the life-sustaining fluid.

“I am going to need help.”

“Then I suggest you find some,” Dai She remarked with little concern. “Perhaps that old man has more uses than just operating a few toggle switches.”

Markhor had trouble concealing his growing disdain for the powerful Wand Master. He could not believe this abomination was his—

Quickly he wiped the train of thought from his mind, lest Dai She attempt to tap into it and discover something he was not to know. He had to keep his thoughts and emotions in check. By the end of the day he would be physically drained. Emotions would be the reserve fuel he would need to call upon.

“The old man would die down here. I’ll need to get one of the mining carts to move the rest of the crystals.”

“Do what you must, but be quick about it!” Dai She yelled. “Time is a luxury you do not have.”

When he returned with a freshly oiled cart, he found Dai She leaning against a tunnel wall, grinning from ear to ear—a most unpleasant sight.

A brief glance at Dai She’s work quickly explained why he was smiling. The crystal Markhor had pulled from the cave had been polished and honed with the precision of a diamond cutter. The sides were now perfectly planed to provide pinpoint reflection. He reached over to feel the surface, drawn to it like a magnet.

“Don’t touch it!” Dai She snapped. “Even the slightest trace of oil from your skin will affect it.”

“How did you do it?” Markhor asked admiringly.

“That’s none of your concern,” he replied. “Maybe, if you’re a good boy, I’ll show you … someday.” His high-pitched laughter bounced through the tunnel. And when he heard its echo his sweaty face gleamed happily and he laughed even louder.

Markhor felt a slight tremor beneath his feet, but Dai She was shaking too hard to notice. For the first time he wondered about the stability of the walls and remembered the yellow tape farther back in the tunnel.