For five terrible seconds, Pella Rook stood frozen before the barred cedar door. Her first, gut impulse—the dangerous, seductive hero-instinct that had killed fifty ambitious apprentices in the history of the Summoners’ College—screamed at her to grab an iron crowbar, smash the door open, and dive into the boiling steam to reach the memory wire before the connection was lost forever.
She took one step toward the door. Her knuckles tightened on the handle of her measuring tongs. Then she saw Eren’s face, covered in stone dust. She saw Sister Merrow standing with her ash cane raised. She saw young Tavi clutching his tally slates with wide, scared eyes. She remembered Hal Rook’s words. The man who tries to be a hero in a flood is just another corpse the river has to wash out to sea.
Pella took a slow, deep breath, letting the cold air of the upper gallery fill her lungs. She unclenched her fists, stepped three paces back from the barred door. Then she turned her back on Sub-Cellar 4. “We’re not going down those stairs,” Pella announced, her voice ringing clear, quiet, and fully steady across the room. “The main nook is abandoned. We don’t risk a single life to save an old copper wire.”
