To ensure that messengers could sprint the underground passage in total darkness during an emergency without slipping into the deep pools, Eren and Pella installed a nonstop steel wire handrail along the entire two-hundred-and-twenty-yard run.
Eren used a heavy iron star-drill and a four-pound hammer. He drove eighteen forged eye-bolts into the solid limestone wall at ten-pace intervals, three feet above the walking ledge. Through these eyes, they threaded a nonstop three-eighths-inch zinc-coated steel wire rope provided by Jo Saye across the Courtesy Bridge.
Pella tensioned the cable with two heavy bronze turnbuckles anchored into the granite bridge pillar at either end. She drew the wire taut until it hummed when struck like a bass fiddle string.
‘A runner doesn’t even need a lantern now,’ Pella remarked. She ran her hand along the smooth, cool steel cable. ‘You just drop your left hand onto this wire, close your eyes, and run. The cable leads you around every corner, keeps your boots on the stone, and takes you from Station One to Station Three in ninety seconds flat.’
Inside Lowbank Courtesy Workshop & Water chute, the air carried the sharp, clear odor of turpentine wash, beeswax sealant, and powdered chalk dust, showed by freezing evening mist pooling in the sunken courtyard drains. With animal fat dips guttering inside their punched holes in tin wind-cages, Pella Rook held up two ink-stained fingers to quiet the murmur of the watching apprentices and spread the working notes for ‘The Temporary Handrail’ across the chalk-ruled…
