Mira tried to stand while Tessa was checking the circulation in her hand.
The attempt ended before her feet found a stable place. Her knees folded, and the care worker beside the blanket caught the harness rather than the injured shoulder. Mira made a sound through her teeth and tried to turn it into a report about the gate.
“The lower support—”
“Is being watched,” Tessa said.
“The movement after the guide cleared. She needs to know which way—”
“You told her. She’s there.”
The dungeon engineer raised her hand from the observation position. She could see the accessible part of the gate and read the remaining local indicators through the instrument repeater. She could not make the destroyed support accessible again. Neither could Mira, however much pain she was willing to ignore to try.
Eli sat on the lower platform while the care worker examined his wrist. The joint hurt when he turned it, less when he kept it still. His shoulder ached where he had landed against the far rib. A bruise was rising along his shin. None of those injuries had the dramatic clarity his body wanted to offer as a reason he could stop thinking about the bridge.
