The whole crew shares Cang’s mylar. He sits at the edge of a circle ringing the wagon, rolling his tiny emerald in his fingers, stuffed deep in his pocket, while his friends and the road people munch.
The road people’s son, who’d been unconscious heretofore, gurgles and awakens. His parents attend to his side and gently ply him with orange crunchies. He accepts a few, then catches sight of Shyan, and starts with fear. She gives him a curt wave and returns to her mylar.
After this short repast and its incipient camaraderie, the wagon moves on. Only an hour later, with the wagon’s fire burning low and the wind picking up, the wagoneers find themselves at the edge of a chasm. The bridge is gone.