With two fully dressed guards and an excited Lanying, I roam the darkened streets of Lhasa again. The two men lead the way, surprising me again with their swift, agile movements while their frames are so stocky and broad. As it turns out, Lanying ordered her men to follow the ngakpa’s wife ever since we parted, reporting on her every step and breath.
“I can’t believe they stayed in town all this time,” she says. “The fools.” She hisses and points at an inconspicuous house at the end of the street. “There, in the back.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. My eyes shoot ahead, and the wiry shadows of my company lengthen as they’ve already turned the corner. Focus. I slow my breath to order my erratic thoughts.
The bitter midnight air bites at the edges of my nostrils. A gush of arid wind g
