"All right." His voice cut through the grief cleanly but not unkindly. "Time to get to work. We have a lot to do."
He raised one hand, fingers spread, and pushed down.
The colosseum obeyed.
Stone sank in a slow, even descent, the tiers lowering in one vast exhale that carried the spectators toward the ground, and as the seats disappeared beneath them, gentle currents of wind pressed upward against their legs and backs, nudging them to standing before the stone could slide out from under them.
Most of them stood but some didn't.
The dogkin in the beastkin ranks stayed where she was, her knees drawn up and her hand still pressed over her mouth, and the wind pushed against her back and got nothing.
The soldiers with their faces in their hands didn't feel it at all.
The stone beneath them didn't force it.
