"Already staged cold wraps," Sera said, pointing to a stack of gray wool. "Soaked in river water. Won't hurt."
Lyra walked the perimeter like an archer marking her shooting lanes. Her eyes snagged on a hairline crack in the annex's ceiling. "You're sure the braces will hold while we move weight?"
"For an hour," Ves said. "Two if you don't dawdle. Ground's settled for now. Tide shifts are—"
The stone under their feet made a short, unhappy sound. Everyone stopped. Dust sifted from the crack and hesitated in the air like it hadn't decided which way the world would go. Then the moment passed. Corin swallowed.
"—periodic," Ves finished calmly, as if nothing had happened. "Lift smooth. Carry smooth. No sudden drops."
