Chapter 929 - 929: Nessa Steals Back One Field Finger

The field finger nearest Kestra's door struck its wheel socket hard enough to tilt the relocation wagon.

All six support brackets swung toward the storehouse. One closed around empty air beside Varo's shoulder, then opened when the other two fingers drove their nails deeper into the floor route.

Nessa heard the impact through the recovered hinge tied to Kestra's lower rail. The maintenance punch pulled against the cage needle she had lodged through it, turning the hinge toward the chained door.

Kestra put both hands on the door bar.

"If that wagon enters my floor, every stored address starts pulling again."

"Open enough space for my cutter and left shoulder."

"Your unloading debt gains another line before this chain moves."

Kestra lifted the bar. Jade held Ty's skull against her hip and moved aside without leaving the unnamed carrier's sleeping place unwatched. Nessa pushed through the gap with her numb right arm strapped against her ribs.

The supply lane had split around the wagon.

Brinna, Sela, Daro, and five workers held a leather strap around the first supervisor hook. Varo and the loader with tied wrists guarded the release wheel. Both supervisors stood on the route side, where the floor dropped away beneath the wagon's rear axle.

Nobody made room for Nessa until the front finger struck its socket again.

She knelt beside the wheel. The field piece consisted of four plated joints around a living Vale core, built large enough to brace a roof defender's hand. Its serial face had been ground away. Blue paint survived beneath the nail, and the double maintenance punch remained under the broken wrist.

The other two pieces carried the wagon's rear corners. Their nails flexed whenever either worker group changed pressure on the frame.

After the carrier rescue, Vey had made her repeat the recovery order with the gaps on her armor still empty. People came before equipment. Nessa had obeyed and left two shoulder hinges behind. She wanted all three fingers now. The six receipt numbers hanging under the wagon made wanting useless. One piece came home after the wagon received another support and every nearby worker named the movement that stopped the swap.

Nessa put her cutter against the front socket. The brass handle pulled toward the stolen finger, though the blue prison sliver stayed sealed inside.

"All three pieces came from West Four during Meren's evacuation."

Varo kept both hands on the release wheel.

"They currently keep six brackets from dropping into that hole."

"I can replace this corner with the shoulder hinge from my unit."

Brinna looked through the chained door at the hinge still tied to Kestra's rail.

"You sent your city signal through that piece less than an hour ago."

"The message has gone, and the hinge can carry weight without opening a road."

The supervisor nearest Daro raised his second hook.

"Recovered cargo remains seventh account property until the relocation reaches settlement."

Nessa turned the cutter so its West Four punch faced him.

"The hinge and finger carry my unit's marks. Your account ground away the serials and left ownership underneath."

"Captain authority ended when your city severed its return."

"Then challenge my authority after your wagon stops hanging over workers."

Brinna tightened the strap around the first hook.

"Take one piece if every body remains above the route."

Varo shook the wheel once to show its half turn of play.

"The front corner falls before that hinge seats."

Nessa measured the gap with the flat of her cutter. The hinge could enter beside the finger if both worker groups lifted the wagon by one nail's width. Nobody on either side trusted the other to hold that long.

She returned to Kestra's door and pulled the gray packing cloth from the lower rail. The recovered hinge came with it. A bent cage needle remained through the maintenance punch, dark with the blood from Nessa's numb elbow.

Her left hand caught the needle with the cutter's outer jaw. She braced the hinge against the door bar and bent the needle until it broke at the punch. The loose half fell into Kestra's invoice pan.

The severed needle left the hinge dead to her pulse.

Nessa wrapped the gray cloth around its ground serial face and carried it to the wagon.

"Brinna's side raises the supervisor hook when I count the second nail. Varo's side holds the wheel on its current tooth."

Sela shifted her pry bar beneath the hook shaft.

"Your count stops if this bracket moves toward Olan's number."

Daro wound the cut chest strap around his forearm.

"Your count stops if any hook enters my old frame wound."

Varo looked at the receipt number beneath his left palm.

"My side holds until the hinge takes weight, then nobody uses the pause to turn this wheel."

The loader with tied wrists set one boot against the wheel housing.

"If my receipt board lifts, that bracket has started closing. Lower the wagon before saving either piece of West Four metal."

The supervisor objected from behind his raised hook.

"Workers cannot amend a route already paid through the seventh account."

Brinna pulled the strap tight enough to turn his wrist.

"The account purchased arrival shares. It still owes this shift wages."

Nessa pushed the hinge beneath the front wheel. Her shortened fingers slipped on the gray cloth. She caught the maintenance punch with her cutter tip and rotated the hinge until its shoulder sat against the socket wall.

The stolen finger struck the cutter hard enough to tighten the four sided pressure mark beneath Nessa's numb right shoulder. With that arm strapped down, she pinned the hinge with her left knee. Blood reached the edge of her elbow wrap where the removed needle had opened the port again.

Brinna saw the stain and shifted one hand along the strap.

"Your arm is bleeding through the wrap near that old cage port."

"Watch the bracket because my arm provides no useful warning."

"Raise on the next two wheel nails and stop there."

Sela and Daro lifted the trapped hook with their strap. Brinna's five workers pulled behind them. Across the wagon, Varo and the loader forced the release wheel backward by two raised teeth.

The front corner rose.

Nessa drove the hinge inward. Iven's brass safety catch rested against the cutter handle, so she pressed the closed handle over the hinge lip and locked the shoulder into the wheel socket without exposing the prison sliver.

The wagon dropped onto it.

One support bracket closed beneath the deck. Its leather arms caught the receipt board rather than a person. The recovered hinge creaked but held.

"Keep every hand where it is until the field piece clears the socket."

Nessa hooked her cutter beneath the broken wrist and pulled.

The finger resisted with all four joints. The route below held its nail while the socket released its wrist. Nessa changed the cutter angle, planted her left boot against the wheel, and pulled the joint across the hinge instead of straight out.

Blue paint streaked the cloth as the field finger came free and the wagon shifted toward the remaining pair. Workers on both sides took the load through the release wheel and trapped hook. Nessa saw the rear fingers flatten their nails against the route edge. Removing either one would send that side of the wagon below the floor before a second hinge could arrive.

She left them in place.

Varo watched her wrap the recovered piece.

"Your city gets one finger, while our wagon keeps the other two."

"Your wagon keeps them until every worker leaves those brackets."

The supervisor lowered his free hook toward the hinge.

"Then the replacement becomes seventh account property with the rest of the load."

Nessa caught the hook on her cutter.

"That hinge supports people under Brinna's stopped sort. It enters no ownership receipt tonight."

The shoulder hinge settled another fraction beneath the wheel. Its blue roof paint vanished under the iron rim, leaving Nessa with no way to recover it while the wagon remained loaded. She marked the exposed maintenance punch with one cutter scratch so the workers could prove which unit had paid for their front corner.

Only then did she turn the field finger over. Black grinding had erased the serial face, but West Four's double punch remained beneath the wrist beside a shallow blue line used by Meren's roof teams. Vey would recognize it. So would every roof captain who had gone short during the evacuation.

The recovered finger moved inside the gray cloth.

Nessa's pulse cage remained inactive. Her right arm touched neither cloth nor joint. Her left hand held only the cutter wrapped around the loose end.

The finger crawled out anyway.

Its nail crossed the wagon frame and hooked beneath a black rail set deeper than the wheel sockets. Five rubbed circles surrounded the rail, each the width of one closed lock face.

Nessa pulled the cloth back. The finger dragged her cutter with it, bending toward the dark metal rather than toward her maintenance punch or Meren's blue paint.

Under the wagon, something struck the black rail from below.