Chapter 137: Hands That Cannot Miss

At the last stair, Dane’s sound wheel struck an iron sill.

Beyond it trembled three separate plank notes over deep water, each climbing a wet chain into the same crosswise groan above him.

"Three lanes to one dry arch," Vera said. "Wall lane on my left. Middle hangs one board lower. Open lane has water on both sides. One adult wide, all three tied into the brace under us."

A hook struck stone ahead.

The blow landed where the last two had. Iron traveled up one chain, crossed overhead, and loosened a different set of planks.

"Three moving hooks," Kril said. "One above each lane. Three people at the far half. Gray water is running down the chains to their arms."

Orsa’s short stump knocked the sill. "Mett has the wall. Sella is middle. Nara took the open lane."

"Keep off my boards," Mett called. His breathing came between the wall and the first chain. "I start the low pull. The arm brings it back without me."

The open-lane hook struck the same stone seam again.

Nara answered without raising her voice. "The return reaches the sill. Decide before it does."

Vera’s abandoned warning guide tightened around Dane’s sound rail. She had its free length looped over her right forearm. Kril stepped onto the common brace with both blades sheathed.

All three chains moved.

The open hook came first, its iron edge humming above adult shoulders. Nara’s feet landed twice on swinging boards while she drew it toward the stair. The middle chain snapped crosswise. Sella caught the traveling iron at waist height and sent its curve across Kril’s path.

Kril dropped beneath it.

The edge opened his outer sheath from mouth to cap. Dry leather fell into the water. Before he could rise, Mett’s wall hook scraped back at shin height and cut through the warning guide.

The severed rope lashed Dane’s rail. Vera lost the free end from her forearm.

Nara’s first hook struck the common brace on its return. The open lane jumped. Buk’s litter rolled until four habitual coffer feet jammed themselves under the cloth and lifted his right shoulder higher than his left.

"Open plank split at the near seam," Vera said.

"My face is winning the race," Buk said. Water waited below the lowered side. "I would prefer the rest of me."

Ada pulled the litter cloth back across the coffer’s shell. The next middle hook passed close enough to stir her sleeve.

Brant stood with both useless arms held to his body and turned his good ear toward the traveling chains. "Open goes high. Middle crosses behind it. Wall returns low after the boards swing. There is no empty beat."

"Then we change what they hit," Orsa said.

Dane lowered sound-side Door grain across the sill. He kept it below knee height and open along the top. The coffer put one chosen foot beneath his sound rear, the other on the middle lane. Its four habitual feet kept Buk’s cloth off the planks while Ada and Lye Scar brought the retained litter pole forward.

Lye set his sound boot on the wall lane. His left followed straight and short, with no bend in the bandaged thigh. Serrick walked at his back, both injured hands pressed dry against his chest.

The chains began again.

Nara’s high hook met Dane’s lowered grain instead of a throat. Iron carved a pale groove along the Door edge and climbed. Dane kept the surface from curling over it.

Sella’s middle hook struck the raised iron and caught its chain before it could wrap Ada. Her right shoulder turned inward. The hook stopped a hand below Ada’s ribs.

"That is the hand I asked for," Sella said.

Orsa stepped onto the middle lane with her left knee kept straight. "Do you want it dry?"

"At the intake, Hest caught my vest while the rest of you were calling the grate." Sella’s arm completed the catch without shaking. "You were above me."

"I remember."

"Then remember why I kept it wet."

Mett’s low return struck Dane’s sound wheel. The lane dropped under the impact and bounced his wounded right quarter toward open water. The coffer’s chosen foot lifted with him. Four habits stayed under Buk and tried to retreat toward the stair.

Voss drove his shortened hook into the seam above one habitual ankle. "Carry the litter. Leave the bridge to the feet that volunteered."

Two chosen feet advanced. Four kept Buk level.

Brant called the high chain by pitch. Dane let Nara’s hook climb his open grain, then folded that edge flat when Sella sent the waist cut behind it. Kril rose inside the missed curve. His intact sheath drove beneath the wall-chain collar.

"Mett, which turn is yours?" he asked.

Mett’s shoulder pulled toward the wall. His wrist began to roll the other way.

"This pull. When the chain comes back, take my wrist. I never gave it that."

Serrick kicked his remaining polished wedge along the wall lane. It struck Mett’s heel. Mett trapped it with his boot, edged it beneath the wet handle, and shoved with his sole while Kril levered the chain collar up on the dry sheath.

Gray water peeled from the handle in a thin skin. It still connected wrist to iron.

Ada crossed behind Dane’s low edge with a folded dry wrap between both palms. "Open when you reach the end of your pull. I need cloth around you and cloth around the handle."

Mett dragged the wall hook one last handspan toward his hip. The shoulder stopped.

His wrist kept turning.

The bones in his hand knocked the handle once. Mett swore into the wall and forced his fingers open while Ada threw one fold around his forearm and a second around the raised iron. Serrick drove the wedge between the wrapped surfaces with his boot.

The gray skin broke.

Mett’s arm fell against his ribs. The wall hook continued without him, ran backward over Kril’s sheath, and jammed its carriage against the overhead cross-chain.

Three lanes lurched at once.

The split open-lane plank tore one end free. It swung under Nara’s sound foot and left her other leg over water.

Sella’s right shoulder turned.

Her chosen hook caught Nara beneath the belt and pulled her hips back over the open lane. Nara found the next board without looking down.

"Leave the middle chain alone," Sella said. The loaded catch held Nara and the broken plank together. "It has both of us."

Something struck water below the near brace.

Brant turned his head toward it, but the overhead cross-chain snapped backward before he spoke. Mett’s blocked carriage dragged the wall return through the common iron. Wet troughs tipped. A new rush ran down the middle chain and covered Sella’s right wrist.

Her shoulder was still drawing the rescue hook toward her ribs when the cutting return took her hand outward.

Sella’s elbow locked.

The inside of her forearm rose in three hard cords. One snapped under the skin. The next broke with a wet knock. The cuff peeled open from wrist toward elbow, exposing muscle that pulled apart while her hand was forced palm-up.

Her middle, ring, and smallest fingers flew open.

The hook remained in the pinch of thumb and forefinger for one useless instant. Its weight tore free and swung into the middle lane, scattering blood across the planks.

Sella screamed until the next chain movement took her breath.

As the broken plank fell away, Nara caught herself with both knees and one hand.

Orsa’s first step toward Sella met the returning middle hook.

One open Door corner rose into the curve and took iron a finger from Orsa’s hip. Blood dripping through the boards had already found Dane’s hunger; his tongue pressed the floor beneath his teeth.

"Sella." Orsa braced her healthy leg against Dane’s grain. "Do you want the break?"

Sella’s thumb and forefinger twitched. Her middle, ring, and smallest fingers hung open.

"Get this turn out of me."

Kril caught the middle chain on his intact sheath. Serrick’s boot knocked the dry wedge out of Mett’s carriage and sent it skidding under Sella’s wrist. Ada wrapped flesh first, then the handle above it, keeping the folds apart while Orsa forced the wet hook down on her stump.

The gray connection stretched between the two dry boundaries.

Nara’s open hook came down at shoulder height.

Mett put his freed arm around Buk’s retained litter pole and hauled it across the wall lane. Lye took one shortened step beside him. The hook passed behind their backs and split the empty plank where Buk’s head had been.

Kril twisted his sheath. Serrick stamped the wedge through the gray strand.

Sella’s wet cuff came apart.

Her right arm dropped. Ada caught it above the elbow and pressed the torn forearm to Sella’s chest before the next swing could load it.

"Can you feel these?" Ada touched the thumb, then the smallest fingertip.

"All of them."

"Keep the arm there. No gripping."

Sella looked toward the open lane. "Nara."

Nara had reset her cutting hook at the same height as the first three blows. "Keep the cloth away from me. I put my hand here."

Orsa held the middle hook down with her stump. "I’m asking once."

"I heard you." Nara’s chain tightened. "Move your wounded off my lane."

Orsa shifted her healthy hip under Sella’s left side instead of answering.

Mett reached the far dry arch with Buk’s litter line and looped it around a stone tooth. The new line came back above the wall lane. He took Buk’s front pole again while the coffer’s four habitual feet carried the cloth behind him. Lye followed on sound foot, straight left step, sound foot. Brant crossed by the changing chain pitch at their backs.

Two cuts came from Nara. The first landed on Dane’s low Door grain; Kril knocked the second aside with both sheathed blades, and they crossed before another swing began.

Voss and the coffer set Dane onto the gallery with his sound wheel on the wall lane and his late right wheel on the lower middle boards. While one chosen foot held under his sound rear and the other tested the next common cross-brace, four habitual feet finished carrying Buk to the far stone and returned along tracks they had already used.

Sella came behind Dane with her right arm bound to her chest and her left forearm over Orsa’s shoulder. Ada kept the torn side from striking chain. Serrick followed sideways, using one elbow against Sella’s back when the middle lane swung.

Water struck the common near support again.

A chin turned below the planks.

Click.

Hest’s curved rake entered the wet wall braid beneath the gallery and drew it tight enough to make fibers sing through Dane’s wheel.

"Hest is under the near brace," Vera called. Her right hand held the far line; her left stayed tucked close. "Marda is below the middle. Scarred right palm on the common chain."

Orsa pushed Sella toward far stone. "Get her past Dane."

Nara drove the open hook across Kril’s approach. He caught it on one sheath, but its edge locked him outside the near brace.

Marda’s first stroke traveled through the common chain.

Wet braid creaked. Her second stroke landed in the same groove and tore the outer fibers. Hest’s rake pulled the wall support tighter instead of sawing loose; the stretched braid gave Marda’s third stroke a fixed line.

When the common near support split, all three lanes dropped behind Dane.

The wall planks fell first. His sound wheel rolled toward the far arch while the lower middle lane pitched his damaged quarter backward. The coffer’s chosen foot remained under the sound rear. Its other chosen foot lost the next brace and struck open air.

Nara released her overhead chain and dropped toward the wet maintenance shelf below. Hest’s rake caught her belt. Bare feet, Nara’s boots, and Marda’s heel struck the same low stone before water covered the retreat.

Sella’s left arm slid from Orsa’s shoulder.

Her right hand reached for the middle chain.

Thumb and forefinger touched iron. The other three fingers stayed open. The weak pinch stripped down the wet link, and Sella fell between the tilting lanes.

Dane felt her broken breath below his sound rail.

He pulled Door grain out from the open sound-side edge and spread it backward beneath the falling body. The high end remained against the last far cross-brace. The low end found no plank, no wall, and no third support. It hung over water from his living rail.

"He has an open plane under her," Vera said. "High edge at the far line. Low edge is free."

Sella hit ribs first.

The impact bowed Dane’s grain into the water. Her hip followed and turned her toward his mouth. Blood from the torn forearm ran across the open surface and warmed the seams above his lower teeth.

Coffin warmth rose on both sides of her body.

Dane forced the sides flat.

Sella slid down the unsupported plane. Her good left hand struck wet grain and missed its hold.

Vera dragged the ordinary far line across the high edge Dane had chosen. Blue heat burned through one physical strand and stopped where his plane left the last brace.

"Blue is the high edge," she called. "Her ribs are below it. Pull the rope, not the middle."

Mett caught Sella’s left wrist from the far arch. Her body kept sliding and began to pull him onto the wall lane.

Voss put his shortened hook through the knot at the back of her vest. He opened only to the third notch, leaned through his shoulder, and lost the last inch before Sella’s hip reached Dane’s lower edge.

One coffer foot stepped on the blue-marked rope. The other chosen foot found the far stone tooth. Four habitual feet crowded Dane’s damaged quarter, felt the falling lanes behind them, and tried to retreat into the gap.

Voss struck the nearest shell ankle with his hook. "Follow the two that still have floor."

The four turned.

Their weight left Dane’s split and entered the far line. Mett regained his boot as Sella rose one palm-width along the open grain.

The blue heat faded before she reached Dane’s rail.

Orsa drove her short stump beneath the high Door edge. Serrick put one dry elbow beside it. Ada caught Sella above the torn forearm and kept the wrapped limb against her chest while Kril cut Nara’s returning hook chain before it could reach across the fall.

The severed hook struck water below.

Dane’s Door plane tried to cup Sella’s back when her pulse crossed his grain. He flattened it again. A hinge pulled against empty air. The ferrule bridge traveled one permitted finger along its outer fiber and stopped without touching plank or chain.

"One more pull," Ada said. Her voice broke on the effort. "Her hips are clear. Bring the wood with her."

Far line tightened. The coffer’s chosen pair stepped together. Dane’s sound wheel climbed the dry arch, and the late wheel dragged up behind it while Sella crossed his open grain onto stone.

Only after Ada had both knees and Sella’s body on the far floor did Dane release the Door plane. It folded back into his sound side without closing around anyone.

The three gallery lanes hung almost vertical behind them. Broken near braids slapped water. No plank reached the stair they had left.

Hest’s click sounded once beneath the far echo. Marda’s wet stroke followed her into the lower route. Nara’s boots kept pace. None of the three climbed toward the dry arch.

Ada unwrapped Sella’s hand enough to press each nail, find the wrist pulse, and feel along the unbroken bones. Sella watched her own fingers.

"Try the thumb and first finger," Ada said.

They met weakly. The other three lay open against Sella’s thigh.

"Again."

The pinch failed before Ada pulled away.

Sella swallowed. "Will they close?"

"They still feel. Blood is reaching them. The bones held." Ada retied the forearm against Sella’s chest. "Those three will not hold weight again. The pinch may carry something light after the tearing settles."

Mett stood on Sella’s left without offering the injured side a hand. He lowered his shoulder until she could lean into it.

Vera checked Dane’s ferrule from the far stone. "Bridge is home. Rod stayed seated. The split kept its width."

Behind them, the severed gallery continued to fall one plank at a time. Ahead, dry stone descended beneath the far anchor into a cavern that returned no water smell.

A hard blow struck hollow stone inside it.

Two lighter impacts answered from different heights. After an interval long enough for Brant to draw one full breath, the first blow returned.