“In the rocks?” she said.
“In the gap between them.” Petra kept her voice steady, because if she let it shake, the whole world would start shaking with it. “Southeast-facing. Granite walls on three sides. Natural ceiling. We build a south wall with a door and a hearth, and we’re inside a granite house.”
Maisie’s eyes narrowed. “How thick is the granite?”
“Three feet minimum. Probably more at the base.”
Maisie thought the way Petra thought: silently, with the world temporarily set aside while the problem was turned in the mind like a tool. Then she nodded once, as if accepting an equation.
“What’s that dark mark?” Maisie asked suddenly.
Petra blinked. “What mark?”
Maisie pointed with her chin. “On the north face. Halfway up.”
Petra followed the line of sight, and yes. Even from here, the soot mark was visible in the right light, a shadow where stone should have been clean.
“Old fire,” Petra said.
