The preparation of the check gear in the cooperage shed went on with military rigor. Every tool was inspected, cleaned of surface rust. Then he rubbed down with sheep fat to prevent rusting in the acidic sulfur steam of the academy vaults.
Eren packed three ten-ton forged screw jacks, four-foot crowbars, two heavy crosscut saws, and six boxes of seasoned oak wedges into two wooden hand-carts. Pella packed her brass measuring tongs, Hal Rook’s fine-scale gauges, two Bourdon-tube pressure dials provided by Ada across the Courtesy Bridge, and six notebooks with lead pencils wrapped in oiled lambskin.
Sergeant Kray arrived with twelve town guards in full armor. They carried short axe-spears, heavy iron pry-bars, and crossbows with waxed bowstrings protected inside leather cases. These were not ritual court soldiers. They were veteran river wardens who had spent years policing the dangerous timber slips of the Lower Wards.
‘Rules of engagement are simple, lads,’ Sergeant Kray barked, inspecting their gear. ‘We’re there under High Council warrant to protect Inspector Korr Var and Apprentice Rook. If any academy summoner or private warden tries to bar a door, draw an iron bolt, or touch a lever without Korr’s written order, you put an axe-spear through their robes. The safety of forty thousand people is resting on our iron today. Move out!’
