The support had a sound Mira could feel through her teeth. She kept her weight on the fixed ledge and held her lamp beneath the opening in its face. Inside the hollow, thin bright flakes lifted toward the channel. They vanished before reaching the upper edge. Nothing fell to the floor where a worker could sweep it up and judge the loss.
Juno asked her to move the lamp sideways without moving her body. A builder’s mark appeared on the back plate: three cuts, the middle one shorter. The dungeon engineer recognized the seat it identified. She leaned over the bridge drawing and made the technician shift the lamp so she could compare the actual casting with the old plan she had carried down.
“The face isn’t carrying it alone,” she said. “There’s a heel behind it. We need the brace under the heel, not over the hollow.”
Mira looked at the narrow gap beneath the support. Reaching it would put her wrist close to the pressure path. She described the reach before attempting it. The engineer shortened the brace’s loose end with a pin and told her which side must face the ledge. They could not make the reach safe by calling it routine. They could keep the tool from catching the channel if she had to let go.
