Chapter 164: What He Could Not Finish

Rainhouse’s west rafters caught the northward pull and held.

The load reached Dane through the true wall post, the lower hinge, and the bowed bar across his ferrule. His right quarter shook around the old split. The bar shifted less than one nail before threshold stone stopped it.

Under the true leaf, the severed strip scraped and stayed cold. Outside, the ring tapped iron and stayed down.

“West sill is rolling between the shingles,” Vera said from the broken corner. Roof grit struck stone around her boots. “Lower edge is turning in. Both rafters are whole. Nothing through yet.”

Istra’s six contacts tightened around the true post. “Take the bar off his iron. Drive it under the west sill before the next support lands.”

Senn drew her end of the bar toward Rainhouse. Wood rolled across Dane’s ferrule, and the true leaf moved inward by one finger.

Inside, Harl’s good heel struck where stripped floor met the made beds. Ada’s palm answered against the torn shin. Lye’s long right step landed behind both sounds; his shortened left step dragged and stopped against a bed rail.

“They’re under the break,” Senn said.

Istra said, “The sill is still in the rafters. Move the bar.”

Senn drove the wood back down across Dane’s ferrule. “Bar stays until that shin is east.”

Her end left the wood.

The whole true-door load settled onto Dane. His sound wheel dipped into the angle he had made against the threshold. The unstable right quarter flexed, caught, and kept the bar from rolling free.

Senn’s boots crossed the stripped lane. “Lye, long step toward the bare hooks. Harl, heel where I put it. Ada, keep the bad leg inside us.”

“My short leg has a bed in front of it,” Lye said.

A cot frame struck stone. Senn shoved it west. Rope complained, then the frame went over on one side and opened a narrow path.

Senn said, “Bed’s against the wall. Move.”

Lye’s right foot crossed. Harl’s good heel followed between Senn’s boots. Ada moved sideways with them, one hand fixed to the shin while cloth whispered at her other shoulder.

A cupboard latch lifted in the west room.

“Leave that,” Senn said.

The latch struck shut.

“I need dry cloth under my palm,” Ada said. Harl’s breath scraped through his teeth while she spoke. “Powder if you have it.”

Senn tore a sheet from the nearest made bed. The first pull ripped its corner. She planted one foot on the fallen cot frame and tore again until a long strip came free.

“Use this. The cupboard was empty when Nate took the filed bar.” She pushed the cloth into Ada’s free hand as Harl’s heel found the next patch of stone. “He went for anything a healer would take.”

The Road-Eater pulled north.

The bowed bar ground across Dane’s ferrule. Beneath that rough drag came one thinner scrape across his lockplate, the old filed edge followed by Nate’s whisper: “Be worth it.” Harl’s heel struck inside Rainhouse. Senn pulled the torn sheet around Ada’s wrist without lifting the palm from the shin.

Above them, the west sill grated harder against intact roof grain.

“Rear support is lifting,” Vera said. Her boots shifted at the broken corner. “The room face went light at the top.”

Istra’s nearest contact left the true post and struck Rainhouse’s west wall. “Last turn before the lower edge crosses.”

Senn got one shoulder behind Lye’s shortened side. “Then count his heel, not my roof.”

Lye drove his long right step toward the east lane. His left foot cleared the fallen cot frame and jammed against its far rail. Harl swung between his arms. The torn shin moved forward under Ada’s braced palm, and fresh blood warmed the new sheet.

“Good heel down,” Harl said. “Turn me through.”

Senn kicked the cot frame flat. Lye dragged his short step over its rail while Harl planted the sound heel and pivoted. Ada went with the injured leg instead of around it.

Buk’s broom struck his litter frame from the bare-hook lane.

“Six feet to the wall,” he called. “Buk needs the middle.”

The coffer moved before anyone touched it. Its front contacts skipped toward the east wall. The rear stutter came late, the middle feet crowding out of sequence until the whole shell drew beside Buk’s litter and left the center lane open.

The lifted Road-Eater support landed.

Impact drove down the west wall, crossed the true hinge, and hammered the wood into Dane’s ferrule. His right quarter folded to its old half-angle. Heat reached the split without passing it.

Rainhouse’s first west rafter broke.

The crack carried bed rope, roof wood, and one wet tearing sound into the true doorway. Something heavy punched through the made side. Wood struck wood flat against stone.

“Through,” Vera said. “Black lower tooth behind Ada. It took the west cot ropes.”

The tooth closed.

Rope snapped in four quick reports. A mattress dragged upward across broken ceiling boards, spilling damp wool and old straw. The west cupboard door hammered its frame while the sill above pulled north.

The caught ropes sawed back through wet rafter grain. Straw burst from the roof split and peppered Dane’s lid. Something with the weight of a bed leg struck once above his right hinge, missed the opening, and went north with the tooth.

Istra drove three contacts toward the broken rafter. “Bar out now. Break the sill before it takes the post.”

Senn caught Lye at the ribs when his short leg buckled over the flat cot. Harl’s good heel stayed planted. Ada kept the torn shin forward, the new cloth darkening beneath her hand.

“The tooth has the bed,” Vera said. “It is turning around the west post. Pull the sill inward and the post comes across them.”

Senn shoved Lye upright. “Hold my wall.”

Istra stopped one contact short of the bite.

“Your room will go,” she said.

Senn put both hands beneath Harl’s good knee and lifted only enough for Lye’s short foot to clear the rail. “West room can wait its turn.”

The second rafter split.

Istra’s contacts spread along the inner wall instead of closing on the sill. Three took low stone. Three climbed the fixed post by separate edges and held while the black tooth pulled the caught cot upward.

Lye got his short step into the open center lane. His long right foot followed. Harl’s good heel struck beside Buk’s litter, and Ada came through last with her palm still on the shin.

“Inside the hooks,” Senn said. “All of him.”

Buk dragged his broom across the bare east floor. The coffer shifted closer to the wall without a knock this time. Its shell cleared enough space for Lye to lower Harl beside the single litter without putting either wounded body beneath the made west side.

Harl’s good heel lifted again, searching for another patch of floor. Ada trapped his ankle between her knees without easing her hand from the bandage.

“You’re across,” she said.

“Roof’s still west.”

“Your blood’s east. Lie down.”

His heel stopped.

The Road-Eater’s west sill bit again.

Its tooth closed around cot rope, bed rail, ceiling board, and the upper edge of the empty cupboard. The next northward pull lifted all four together. Rainhouse grain tore along the west room’s inner corner. Warm air from the guest room above poured through the split, carrying damp wool and washwater into the fixed station.

Senn crossed back toward the true door. One boot dragged; she reached the bowed bar before the next pull could roll it and caught the inner end with both hands.

Across Dane’s ferrule, the bowed bar held. Both hinges still carried the true leaf, its exterior ring striking free against the plate. The dead strip underneath stayed cold.

Behind her, Istra’s six contacts slid north by one grain as the wall they held changed angle.

“West room is moving,” Vera said. “The tooth joined the ceiling to its floor.”

The walking street took another step.

The swallowed west room answered from above and inside Rainhouse at the same time. Its bed frame climbed. The empty cupboard tore free of one lower nail. Fixed inner-wall stone ground north while the true doorway stayed seated against Dane’s ferrule and Senn’s hand.

Rainhouse’s west room went with the Road-Eater.