Skykeel's answer hit the nursery before anyone could lift their head.
The Bellmother's call had passed through them as one immense pressure. What came back was ragged. A child's landing trill struck first, followed by an old rider's cough, a broken brood cry, and Jiang's own two-voice call sharpened into something he had never uttered.
The stolen sounds did not agree on where the city belonged.
Every root beneath Jiang pulled a different way.
Tovar's cradle tore free of the roof edge.
Aylin's plain rope caught it before the shell rolled into open water. The line snapped tight across the root in her hands and dragged her injured shoulder forward. She dropped to one knee without letting go.
"Dema! Take the line below the knot. Not above it."
Dema slid beside her and wrapped both hands around the wet rope. Tovar worked from inside the swinging cradle, turning the inner wheel so both juveniles in his care stayed under water while the outer shell spun.
