Chapter 992: The Oldest Anchor Breathes

The cord dragged the guide past another tooth. The lower shelf kicked toward the frame, and Jade’s heel skidded into the foot of the bolted upright. Ty’s right hand and grooved rib rang against it. Nessa’s trapped shoulder lurched with the turn.

Stone slapped Jade’s free palm hard against the shelf. Ty’s chest scraped across her other arm; his pelvis pressed into her hip, his skull knocking her shoulder. The jolt ran from her forearm into the bolted upright. By the time the shelf settled, her arm still shook under Ty’s weight.

"Jade, don’t grab my wrist. The suit keeps closing my fingers, and I feel the pull in my shoulder now," Nessa said.

Above the trapped wrist, Jade slid her palm to Nessa’s elbow. Nessa reached along the shelf with her left hand until her fingers found the rail. She braced her left elbow against the shelf and forced her right shoulder back; the glove stopped stretching, though the cord kept turning.

Ty worked his rib into the notch at the upright’s base. Jade steadied his skull while he moved. His right hand stayed on the bone until it seated against the bolted iron. The next pull ran through the bracket, not his fingers. The chain at his jaw hung clear.

The guide’s far face had worn bright under the cord. A square cut on the other side held a wedge packed with chalk, though the chalk had split. Under the frame, the lower West Four finger remained jammed beneath the retaining lip; its partner was still caught above the tooth. Each turn pushed the lower piece farther in and rattled the upper one against the receiver.

The wedge was backing out. One more turn would scrape it free and swing the guide into Nessa’s elbow.

The chalk line crossed the wedge at its narrowest point. Jade had watched it stay straight during the first pull; now the split cut across the mark at an angle. She kept the guide at the edge of her sight while Nessa turned her shoulder.

Nessa followed her gaze. She let the suit draw her hand closer to the tooth, then turned her shoulder with it. The movement yanked her forward. Her left palm slapped the shelf; her teeth clicked shut as she got her weight back against the stone.

"The suit is pulling my right hand toward the lower piece. Keep my shoulder against the wall; I need my left hand free to climb back," Nessa said.

Nessa moved her left hand from the rail to a raised seam and widened her stance. Jade reset her heel behind the upright and stayed loose at Nessa’s shoulder, ready to block without pinning her.

Ty lifted his right hand from the wedged rib and tapped two fingers against the upright. The vibration came back stronger. The rib stayed in its notch. "The shelf went with the current on the first shudder. Now it’s kicking west under my hand," Ty said.

Jade felt the difference through her boot. The first shudder had traveled with the current, a low tremble that faded along the iron. This one lifted the shelf under her heel and held it there. When it eased, the washer beside Ty’s foot slid uphill, stopped, and rolled back toward the stairs.

The frame knocked once. A pale strip peeled from beneath its lowest crossbar and pulled taut against the iron. Jade followed it under the shelf until its far end moved beneath the ridge.

Nessa leaned toward the join, her trapped arm still under the frame. Pale rings ran beneath the black metal and disappeared into the wall; Jade had seen the same close grain on West Four’s field fingers, where it stopped at each cut edge.

"I’ve seen that grain in field fingers from three roadbacks. I figured it was forge work. It’s running under this iron too," Nessa said.

Jade followed the seam. Ridges ran beneath the shelf, pale at the edges and dark in the grooves. One tightened; the next dragged the frame sideways. Five black nails crossed the steel receiver and entered the ridge. The membrane between them had split. Each time the ridge contracted, the tear opened around the nails. A plate sheared off beside it and struck the upright. Its iron rim cracked away from a white core.

Jade stopped the loose plate with her boot before it slid under the guide. The iron rim skated across her boot and twisted her heel. She pinned it against the upright until it stopped moving. The pale core carried the same layered grain as the field fingers, but no punch mark or rivet hole. Nessa’s trapped hand strained toward the torn edge. Behind the gap, another plate pushed up beneath the ridge.

Jade recognized the double maintenance punch on the two pieces under the wagon. Nessa had left them there to free the carriers; the frame had dragged them farther down while they were below. The loose scale had the same pale grain, but no worker’s punch. It had come off the ridge whole.

Nessa’s glove lifted with the ridge, settled, then lifted again. She kept her elbow against the wall while the suit drew her fingers toward the piece; her left hand slid from the seam back to the rail and clamped around it.

Her right glove scraped the receiver’s underside. Nessa turned her shoulder with the pull and tried to slide the wrist clear; the split glove caught on a lip. She had to stop before the suit used the caught cloth to drag her hand closer.

"West Four’s already short on braces. They’ll ask me why I came back without the lower finger," Nessa said, watching her trapped glove.

Ty tightened his right hand around the iron upright. His grooved rib stayed wedged beside it. He kept his hand close to the rail while Nessa’s glove curled toward the receiver.

At the frame’s far end, a steel receiver held five narrow channels. Jade knew the cuts from the metal cap Vask wore at Tower Five; this receiver was a separate piece, driven into the ridge. A flat bar ran from it to a slotted plate at the stair hinge. The bar’s pin sat halfway along the slot; one heavy bolt let the plate turn, with Ty’s upright and the stair rail fixed to its outer edge.

The lower West Four finger remained jammed beneath the retaining lip; the upper one was caught above the tooth. The fifth channel ended in an empty cuff, with no plate or finger inside it. Ty slid his right hand along the rail until his missing index hovered beside the cuff. Jade tightened her arm under his chest as he leaned. The gap in his hand lined up with the opening; no bone or metal touched.

He turned his palm until the empty index side faced the slot. Jade felt his chest draw tight against her arm. He left a finger’s width between the knuckle and steel, then hooked his hand back over the rail.

"The cuff sits where my index finger should be. I still don’t know where that finger went," Ty said.

Nessa leaned closer. The suit tugged her wrist; she planted her left foot against the stone to hold her shoulder in place. "Ty, keep your hand clear of that cuff. You know what Vask’s fifth wire did at Tower Five," Nessa said.

Several roadbacks filled Jade’s white eye at once. From the wound beneath them, thin paths split; one reached a ladder with a small hand on the side rail, another folded around a doorway as its floor turned. The lines angled toward the wound, then slipped from view.

Past the doorway, Jade could hold two routes at once; chasing a third blurred both. The ladder stayed visible longest, its rung shifting under the child’s grip.

Jade shut her good eye, but the ladder stayed in the white field: the child’s hand slid one rung lower as the floor tipped. With the next shift came the ladder against a wall. Even there, every visible route ran toward the wound.

"I see the same child on that ladder, but I can’t tell if they make it when the floor turns," Jade said.

Nessa’s fingers curled inside the glove. She forced them straight, but the suit began closing them again. "We take the lower one back to West Four. If we have to leave one, leave the upper," Nessa said.

Jade’s palm stayed above Nessa’s elbow, the only thing keeping her shoulder against the wall. To reach the lower finger, Jade would have to let go.

The ridge contracted again. Its steel receiver pulled inward, drawing the cord loop slack at the guide. The suit kept closing Nessa’s fingers, and the receiver’s lip scraped her glove another inch under its edge; the lower field finger slid deeper beneath the retaining lip while the upper rattled against the tooth and held.

The bar’s pin struck the end of its slot. The plate turned around the hinge bolt, carrying the upright and stair rail with it. The top rung swung past level with the shelf. Through Jade’s white eye, the nearest roadback tilted toward the tear in the anchor. Their way back up was moving out of reach.