Atheron watched the infirmary attendants vanish beneath the eastern arch, and Hajin stopped below the dais with his three companions. The nearest mages lowered their inspection crystals, since Juna's folded Wings escaped every reading they tried from the gallery rail.
Vella settled the staff against her good hand while the ward beneath the steps kept its unbroken light.
"Nine anchors beneath the dais," she murmured, nudging the staff tip clear of his next step, "and they kept the pressure off the royal seats."
"Don't expect every floor in this palace to answer the same way, Master, most of them were laid for dancing."
"Dancing," Hajin muttered, "great, the realm's last defense is good shoes."
Juna glanced at the cracked edge farther down the carpet, her hand still parked beside his mantle fastening.
"The part we needed is still clear," she said flatly, one ear flicking toward the gallery.
