Chaska launched before the sun cleared the quarry wall.
Lilt dropped so steeply that Ysabet’s stomach tightened, though she stood safely on the rim. The sandray flattened her fins, caught the air above the white floor, and leveled behind the broken crane. Chaska slid from the frame only when all of Lilt’s weight rested on the broad stone shelf.
A drake raised its head.
Ysabet rolled a polished river stone into the open run.
The drake went after it. White dust burst from beneath its feet. It stopped where the pebble lay, nosed it once, and began the slow business of carrying it back.
“Now,” Ashaun said.
Chaska crossed from the crane to the first stake. She kept the lowered line between herself and the nests without pulling it taut enough to trip an animal. Lilt remained behind the crane, her body low, the trailing edge of one fin moving with irritation.
Ysabet had not brought Pip down. It waited above the slope with Suth, its mouse inside the resting box under her cloak. The torn fold had dried along its edge. It followed every clatter of equipment with both eyes.
The first stake would not come free.
Chaska put one foot against the wall and pulled. It moved a finger’s width, released a shower of chalk, and stopped. She looked up, shook her head, and pointed at the base.
“Packed,” Ashaun said.
Ysabet did not answer. A second adult had appeared beneath an overhang. Its head followed Chaska. The animal’s tail straightened.
Ashaun clapped her right palm against her stone forearm. The sharp report turned its head. She stepped behind the buttress before it charged.
The drake struck empty stone. Chaska flattened against the wall.
“Stay there,” Ysabet called.
The animal walked back, bewildered by the absence of an enemy. Its tail passed so close to Chaska’s boot that she lifted her foot from the ground. Then it was gone.
Ysabet found the heavy pebble she had reserved for this purpose. She rolled it toward the nest, away from Chaska’s line of retreat. The second adult followed it, slower now. It was becoming suspicious of this abundance.
Chaska drew a thin blade and scraped the dust from around the stake. A piece fell away. She pulled again. This time the tube came loose so suddenly that she sat down in the chalk.
Above them Suth made a strained sound. Ysabet glanced up and saw Pip halfway out from beneath the cloak. Suth had laid her palm on the ground rather than seize it. Pip stopped with its front feet beyond the cloth. The mouse box remained covered and upright.
Ysabet looked back before she missed something below.
Chaska tied the stake to the line. Ashaun hauled from the rim, using a loop around her right forearm and her body weight. Ysabet guided the tube past the sharp lip. It was longer than it had looked, hollow from end to end, with three old cuts near the top.
“Sound slots,” Suth said.
Chaska had already gone to the next.
They recovered two more before the largest adult lost patience. It abandoned the polished stones and came along the wall at a walk, examining each shadow. Chaska saw it. She left the fourth stake in place and moved toward the crane.
Ashaun raised her right hand. Stop.
The direct route crossed the drake’s run. Chaska flattened beside a projecting block. Lilt stirred behind the crane, hearing her rider’s breath or feeling something Ysabet could not share.
The drake gathered itself.
Ysabet threw a stone too hard. It bounced past the nest and struck a young animal’s arranged pebbles. The adult turned with terrifying speed.
“Wrong,” she said aloud.
Ashaun was already moving. She stepped into the far end of the run, struck her forearm once, and withdrew sideways through the cleared passage. The drake charged after the sound.
Chaska ran the other way.
She reached Lilt, fastened the frame, and settled her weight. The sandray pushed from the shelf and glided below the crane’s broken arm. Her fin brushed a hanging cable. Metal rang across the quarry. Then she caught the rising air and climbed out into the pale morning.
Nobody cheered.
On the rim Chaska unfastened herself with shaking fingers. Ashaun took the knife before she dropped it. Ysabet looked down at the disrupted nest stones, three of them out of place because of her throw.
“We put those back,” she said.
“From here?” Chaska asked.
“No. When there’s a way to do it without starting another charge.”
The stakes lay between them, full of dust. They had recovered three pieces of a tool. They had also made the quarry less calm than they had found it.