I brace the soaked stranger against my shoulder and lead them straight back to Caldra’s barred shelter, keeping my shield toward the flooded passage. ‘Lean on me. We talk on dry stone.’ At the door I call softly, ‘Caldra, Bramble and Mira—one rescued soul with us.’
Bramble flips the thumb latch and pulls the soaked stranger into the dry crawl. Mira finds no one in sight on the lower stair; she snaps the grille shut as water climbs another rung behind it. The stranger coughs, catches Bramble's arm, and manages, 'There's a second stair below. It won't stay dry.' From the chain housing comes one dull shudder, but no renewed knock: the stone chip still holds the cam. The way back to Caldra's barred shelter is clear for now. Do you bring the stranger there, or ask what they saw below before you move?
I stay low beside the opened grille, dagger ready, and scan the flooding stair for anyone following the stranger. Once Bramble has them clear, I snap the latch shut behind us and whisper, ‘Dry shelter, this way.’
I step between Mira and the grille, shield raised, and flip the thumb latch. I haul the trapped stranger into the dry crawl before the rising water reaches them. ‘Out, now. Mira, watch our backs.’
Bramble's test leaves the chain steady. Mira follows him into the dry crawl and catches the next two taps from behind a waist-high inspection grille at the bend. Through its bars she sees a soaked hand, not another moving part. A voice, thin but unmistakably human, whispers, 'The lower stair is flooding. Please—don't leave me here.' Water begins to lick the bottom rung behind the grille. Mira signals Bramble: one person is trapped on the far side, and the grille has a thumb latch within reach. The stranger has not seen them yet; the gate holds for now, but the water is rising.
I slip along the crawl wall a few paces behind Bramble, keeping to the dark. At the bend I pause, listen for the taps, and peek around from low cover before either of us steps into view. I signal him what I see.
I test the chain once more; it holds. Shield first, I lead Mira down the dry service crawl toward the two taps, keeping myself between her and whatever waits. ‘Stay close. We find who is knocking, then get word back to Caldra.’
Mira drives Bramble's stone chip beneath the rising brass cam. It grinds once against the chip, then stops. Her dagger feels no answering knock; the scored bolt stays seated, and the waterline at the housing seam stops growing. Bramble eases a fraction of weight from the chain: the pinned pawl holds. Their repair has bought the gate a reprieve, though floodwater still presses beyond it. In the sudden quiet, two deliberate taps sound from somewhere down the dry service crawl, away from the machinery. A narrow passage continues toward them. Do you follow the taps while the gate holds, or return to Caldra and the others with what you've found?
I keep my dagger torqued against the bolt and, with my free hand, drive Bramble’s stone chip into the brass cam’s path before it can rise again. ‘Hold the chain. Let’s stop the knock, not just catch it.’
I keep the chain pinned beneath my shoulder, brace a boot against the housing, and drive a loose chip of stone through the grate into the brass cam’s path. ‘Hold that bolt, Mira. I’ll stop the next blow.’
Mira seats the washer with her dagger just as the brass cam rises. The next knock travels up the blade and into her wrist, but the bolt stays flush. Bramble's shoulder takes the answering pull through the chain; its tooth holds. Then the cam turns again beneath the grate, slower now, winding up for another strike. A thin line of water beads along the housing seam. They've bought a breath, not a repair: hold the bolt through the next turn, or find a way to stop the cam while Bramble still has the chain.
I press the lifting washer flush, set my dagger tip in the bolt’s fresh score, and twist it tight against the cam’s next knock. ‘Bramble—the brass cam below is driving this bolt out. Keep that chain braced.’
I set my shoulder hard beneath the chain and hold it steady against the next flood pulse, freeing Mira to work the shifting bolt. ‘Brace the washer with your dagger’s flat before that cam strikes again. I’ve got the weight.’
Mira's fingertip finds the access bolt still seated, but its washer lifts a hair with each slower knock. Through the grate she catches the source: a short brass cam turning beneath the chain housing, tapping the bolt from below, not the loose pawl she just secured. On the next turn, the bolt shifts a fraction toward her. Bramble's brace keeps the chain from slipping, but the cam is working patiently against a different fastening. Mira can reach the bolt now; the cam will strike again before she can fetch tools from the shelter.
I crouch by the scored access bolt, trace the fresh tool marks and test whether it is backing out, then peer through the grate between knocks to pinpoint what moves below—without loosening anything.
I keep my shield wedged against the chain and crouch at the grate, listening for the slower knock below. ‘Mira, check that scored bolt—carefully. I’ll hold the gate and cover you.’
Bramble takes the chain’s weight. On the next flood pulse, Mira catches the pawl between blows and drives the pin fully home. Her tug finds it seated; the chain stops slipping. For one breath, the housing is quiet. Then a second, slower knock sounds from below the grate, beyond the reach of this repair. Water is still pressing against the gate. The freshly scored access bolt is within Mira’s reach, while Caldra and Ilex wait behind the barred shelter door. Do you inspect the bolt and the sound, or return to warn them while the chain holds?
With Bramble taking the chain’s weight, I slip through the grate, catch the pawl between impacts, and drive the half-drawn retaining pin home with the butt of my dagger. I give it a sharp tug to make sure it holds.
I drive my shield rim beneath the slipping chain and set my shoulder against the housing, bracing it through the next flood pulse. “Mira—seat that pin now. I have the weight.”
Bramble eases the scored hatch inward. The dry service crawl opens onto a grated view of the chain housing; Mira finds no tripwire in the first few paces, but fresh bright gouges run along the access bolt. Through the grate she sees the source of the knock: a loose iron pawl striking the housing each time the flood strains the chain. It has not come free by itself—the retaining pin sits half-drawn—but the marks cannot say who moved it. The next impact shifts the chain one tooth backward. Bramble can brace the mechanism while Mira reaches the pin, or they can retreat and warn Caldra before the barrier slips again.
I slip through the hatch just behind Bramble, low and quiet. While his shield holds the passage, I check for tripwires and fresh tool marks, then angle toward the knocking from cover to see what is striking the chain housing before it sees us.
I plant my shield between the service hatch and Mira, ease the scored hatch open, and step through first toward the knocking. ‘Caldra, keep them behind the bar. Mira, stay at my shoulder.’
Bramble bars the shelter door as water strikes its outer face. The watchkeeper catches a breath: 'Behind the gate, near the chain housing. I heard two blows, but the spray hid whoever made them.' With the lantern lowered, Mira finds a narrow service hatch set into the landing's dry wall. One screw bears bright, recent scoring; beyond its vent she hears the next metallic knock, close and deliberate. The hatch's lower seam is still dry, but water begins to thread beneath the barred door. Caldra can stay with Ilex and the watchkeeper while Bramble and Mira decide: open the service hatch to follow the sound, or keep everyone behind the bar and question the witness before the next surge. The marks do not identify a hand, and no one has seen what is behind the hatch.
While Bramble bars the flood door, I slip along the dry side of the landing, listening for the next knock. I check seams, vents, and service latches for a dry route behind the gate—and fresh tool marks—without opening us to the surge. ‘Keep the lantern low,’ I whisper.
I shoulder the barred door wide and usher the soaked watchkeeper, Caldra, Mira, and Ilex into dry shelter, taking the rear with my shield toward the knocking below. I bar the door against the next surge and ask the watchkeeper, quietly: ‘Where exactly did those two strikes come from—and did you see anyone behind the gate?’
Bramble's locked chain takes the weight. The loose span shivers under Mira, but holds as she casts the rope across. The watchkeeper loops it beneath both arms; Mira hauls, Bramble braces at the near rail, and together they bring the watchkeeper onto the dry landing just as a surge erases the ledge. Caldra pulls the barred door wider. The watchkeeper coughs out river water, then points back at the broken gate: 'The chain did not simply give. I heard two sharp strikes from the inner side before it slipped.' That is testimony, not yet proof of who struck it. Another metallic knock sounds below the landing. The walkway is safe for this breath, not for another flood pulse. The party can shelter with Ilex and question the watchkeeper, or look for a dry way behind the gate before the next surge closes it.
Bramble, hold that chain. I test the locked walkway, slip across its sound edge, and throw the watchkeeper my rope. 'Loop it under your arms—now!' I brace against the rail and guide them back to the dry landing before the next surge.
I lay Ilex and the rite book clear of the spray, plant my boots beside the landing door, and heave the wheel until the maintenance walkway's chain locks fast. I test it with my weight and shout to Mira, 'Chain's set—I'll hold the near end. Get our watchkeeper across!'
Bramble reaches the stair's dry landing with Ilex and the rite book; Caldra bars its heavy door against the spray. Mira keeps to the high wall. At the place where the lantern flashed, she spots a watchkeeper stranded on a narrow ledge behind the broken gate, one hand above the water and the lantern hooked to a bent bar. The lower approach is already under water. A maintenance walkway runs from the dry landing to the ledge, but its far section hangs loose; the watchkeeper points to a wheel beside the landing door and shouts, 'Lock the chain first!' Mira calls this back and withdraws before the next surge washes over her stretch of wall. She reaches the stair safely. The party has shelter and a possible route to the watchkeeper, but the ledge is shrinking with each wave.
I let Bramble take Ilex and the rite book up the north stair. Staying on the high wall, I slip toward the gate for one quick look at where the lantern flashed, searching for a trapped person or a safe way in. I call back what I find and retreat before the water reaches the wall.
I keep Ilex over my shoulder and lead the others up the north stair to shelter, shield between them and the rising water. ‘We get him and the rite book safe first. Mira, mark where that lantern flashed; if the wall holds, I’ll come back for whoever’s there.’
Mira finds each firm tile before Bramble puts his weight on it. His shield steadies Caldra at the roof's edge; together they lift Ilex over the last gap and reach the retaining wall. All four are above the water, the rite book dry. Behind them, the abbey floodgate gives way with a crack. A surge swallows the low causeway, then breaks against the tidehouse below. Through the spray, a lantern flashes once from behind the gate's bars and disappears. Caldra points to a stone stair climbing farther north: 'Shelter is up there. If anyone is still at the gate, we can try to reach them from this wall—but not with him on your shoulders.' Ilex is still dead. The wall is safe for the moment; the party must decide whether to carry him to shelter or investigate the lantern before the water climbs again.
I slip onto the roof ahead of Bramble, test each slick foothold, and guide him, Ilex, and Caldra onto the retaining wall toward higher ground. ‘My steps. Stay close.’
I shoulder Ilex and step onto the slick roof, shield out to steady the crossing. ‘Mira, lead us to the wall. Caldra, keep the rite book dry and stay close.’ I guide them toward higher ground before the water cuts us off.
Bramble gets Ilex through the hatch and braces his shield while Mira draws Caldra up beside them. The water claims the room below, but the loft holds. From the highest opening, Mira sees a narrow route: the tidehouse roof meets a stone retaining wall leading toward higher ground north of the abbey. It is dry for now, though slick and exposed. Across the causeway, the abbey floodgate gives another metallic crack; a lantern moves behind its bars, then vanishes. Caldra gathers the rite book and says, 'We can carry him out by the roof, or try to warn the gate. Not both before that wall floods.' Ilex remains still. The brass shaving in his cloak is cool again.
I tuck the rite book under my cloak, give Caldra a hand through the loft hatch, then slip to the highest safe opening to watch the abbey gate and find a dry route out. ‘Bramble, keep Ilex high. I’ll spot our way.’
I lift Ilex across my shoulders and climb through the loft hatch, keeping his head clear of the rising water. ‘Mira, bring the rite book. Caldra, up behind us!’ I plant my shield at the hatch and help each of them into safety.
Bramble's bench takes the first shove of water; the cloth darkens, but the door holds. Mira keeps the page flat and the light fixed while Caldra speaks the final line. For a breath, the scored brass shaving on Ilex's cloak grows warm. Caldra checks his throat, then meets Bramble's eyes. 'I reached for him. I couldn't bring him back.' Ilex has no pulse. Water begins to thread through the packed sill. Caldra points to a loft hatch above the room: 'Take him up, now. We can examine that brass when we're safe.' Across the causeway, the abbey gate gives another low groan. The party must choose whether to get Ilex and the rite book above the water or risk returning to the gate.
I keep my dagger angled to cast a steady stripe across Caldra’s next passage, then pin the damp page flat with my free hand. ‘Read. I’ve got the light.’
I jam the stoutest bench against the barred tidehouse door and pack spare cloth along the sill. Shield to the brace, I hold it against the rising water. ‘Finish the passage, Caldra. I’ll keep it out.’
Bramble's warning reaches Caldra before he bars the door. The beam settles into its brackets; the tidehouse stays dry, though water now slaps the outer step. Mira's angled dagger throws a clean stripe of light across the cramped script. Caldra finds her place and completes the next passage without breaking the call. She presses two fingers to Ilex's throat, waits, then shakes her head: no pulse yet. 'Keep the light there,' she says. 'One more passage.' Across the water, the abbey gate gives a second, heavier crack. Bramble can see its wedge shift but not fall. There is time for one more attempt at the rite before the rising water reaches the tidehouse sill.
I plant the lamp beside Caldra’s book and angle my polished dagger to throw its light across Ilex’s wound and the rite text. ‘Bramble has the door. Keep calling—I’ll keep every line clear.’
Water is over the abbey stair and climbing past the causeway arch! I call the warning into the room, then shut and bar the tidehouse door against the runoff. Shield ready at the threshold, I keep watch while Caldra works.
Caldra listens to Bramble's account and looks again at Ilex's blade wound. 'Too long for a quick mending,' she says. 'I can attempt the longer calling. Keep the light steady.' Mira's help gives her a clear view as she cleans the wound and opens the rite book; she begins, but promises no return. From the doorway, Bramble sees water wash over the abbey's first stair. The wedged gate is still standing, though the low arch of the causeway is disappearing under runoff. Ilex remains dead while Caldra works. Bramble can warn the room or secure the tidehouse entrance; Mira can stay with the lamp or help watch the crossing.
I steady the lamp over Ilex’s uncovered wound and put the clean cloth within Caldra’s reach. ‘Bramble has the account; tell me what to hold.’ I keep my hands clear of the rite and my ears on his warning from the door.
I uncover Ilex’s blade wound for Caldra. ‘He fell to a blade in the ruin, before we crossed the drainage cut and came through the abbey. No breath since; I cannot give you the exact minute. Do the rite.’ I leave the leaf beside her, then take my shield to the tidehouse door and watch the causeway and failing gate, ready to bar the water or warn the others.
The tidehouse door opens on Sister Caldra, her sleeves already rolled above the elbow. She reads the prior's leaf, clears a table with one sweep, and waves Mira inside. Bramble and Fable carry Ilex off the wet threshold and lay him beneath the lamp. Caldra checks for breath and pulse; finding neither, she sets out a clean cloth and the rite book. 'I can try,' she says, 'but tell me when he died and show me the wound. I will not promise what the rite can do.' Outside, a dull crack carries across the causeway from the abbey gate. The tidehouse remains dry for now. Who gives Caldra the account, and does anyone keep watch on the crossing?
I sprint to the tidehouse door, rap hard, and thrust the prior’s register leaf toward whoever answers. ‘Sister Caldra! Ilex is dead; Bramble is bringing him over the arch. Clear a table and ready the rite—now!’ I hold the door wide for them.
I nod Mira onward. ‘To Caldra—no turning back.’ With Fable steadying Ilex, I carry him across the flooded arch one careful step at a time, gripping the raised parapet and keeping my body between him and the runoff. At the tidehouse door I call for Sister Caldra and the rite.
Mira runs the north causeway ahead of the others. The first stretch is firm; at the low middle arch, runoff sheets across the stones, but a raised parapet offers a handhold and a passable line for one person at a time. Beyond it, a lamp burns over the tidehouse infirmary door. Behind her, the wedged gate gives a sharp wooden crack. It still holds, but the water is climbing. Mira can signal Bramble and Fable across with Ilex now, or turn back to help secure their retreat; there is no time for both.
I snatch Ilex’s register leaf, race down to Bramble, and call, ‘Sister Caldra—tidehouse infirmary, past the north causeway!’ With the watchkeeper holding the wedged gate, I slip ahead of Bramble, Fable, and Ilex, scouting the quickest safe crossing before the water takes it.
I give the wedged pawl one hard test, then leave the watchkeeper guarding it. ‘Mira, bring Caldra’s name and the register leaf—now!’ I hurry to the chapel, shoulder Ilex with Fable’s help, and lead us toward the north causeway before the flood cuts it off.
Mira reaches the prior as he turns a brittle page. ‘Sister Caldra,’ he says. ‘She tends the tidehouse infirmary beyond the north causeway. She knows the rite, but I cannot promise she can call Ilex back. Take this register leaf; it names him and tells her why you came.’ Below, Bramble keeps both hands on the floodgate pawl while the watchkeeper drives a wooden wedge against it. The catch holds for now. Water touches the first stair, and the causeway will be harder to cross if it rises much farther. Mira has the name and route; who carries word to Bramble, and do they leave the gate braced or seek Caldra at once?
I leave Bramble bracing the gate and sprint up the chapel stair. ‘Prior—who is in the register, and where do we find them?’ I listen for the name and route, ready to carry both straight back.
I plant my boots against the floodgate and keep my shield pressed to the pawl. ‘Mira, hear the prior’s name and bring it back—Fable is with Ilex.’ When the watchkeeper reaches us, I drive the bracing wedge home with him before the next surge.
Bramble's shield takes the next shove of water. The pawl kicks once against his shoulder; Mira draws the chain taut, and the watchkeeper drops its catch home with a sharp iron click. The gate holds this surge, but runoff spills over the outer step and climbs toward their boots. A second watchkeeper runs for a bracing wedge. From the chapel stair, a novice calls that the prior has found a name in the rite register and asks Bramble to come hear it. They have a moment to set the wedge before the water rises again. Does Bramble stay at the gate while Mira goes to the prior, or do they trade places?
I slip in beside Bramble, pull the slack from the nicked chain, and guide the watchkeeper to seat its catch while he braces the pawl. I keep my fingers clear of the bite.
I leave Fable with Ilex and the prior, hurry to the upper floodgate, and set my shield and shoulder against the strained locking pawl beside Mira and the watchkeepers. I brace it against the next surge while they secure the chain.
Bramble lays Ilex on the chapel stone. The prior checks for a pulse, then meets his eyes. 'Not here. Our healer spoke truly. I will search the rite register for someone who can attempt it, but I won't promise what the book has not shown me.' He turns toward the record room, leaving Bramble and Fable with Ilex. At the upper floodgate, Mira finds a bright fresh scrape across the locking pawl and a nick on the chain link beside it. She calls the marks out; a watchkeeper seats the pawl fully, and the gate holds against the next surge. The marks show strain or interference, not who made them. Water is already licking the outer step. Mira can help brace the gate or return to Bramble with what she found; the prior needs a few quiet minutes with the register.
I leave Ilex with Bramble and Fable, sprint back to the upper floodgate, and inspect its chain and locking pawl for fresh tampering while the watchkeepers secure it. I call out any weakness before the flood tests it.
I carry Ilex into the chapel and lay him gently before the altar, then turn to the arriving prior. ‘Your healer says he is dead. Is there a rite here that can bring him back? Tell me plainly what it needs, and I will fetch it.’ I keep my shield close and listen for the gate bell.
Mira reaches the main-hall door ahead of Bramble. Her shout brings an abbey healer out with a satchel; the alarm bell is still ringing below. Mira holds the path clear as Bramble carries Ilex into the hall and Fable follows. The healer checks Ilex's throat and the blade wound, then looks up. 'He is dead. I can tend the living, but I cannot call him back.' She opens the chapel door for them and calls for the prior, who keeps the abbey's records of rarer rites. Outside, the gate bell changes to three sharp strokes: the watchkeepers are closing the upper floodgate. Ilex can be laid in the chapel while the party speaks with the prior, or they can return to help hold the gate.
I dart uphill ahead of Bramble, scouting the path to the main hall and waving them after me. At the first abbey door, I call, ‘He has no pulse. Bring your strongest healer—now.’ I keep the route clear for Ilex.
I shoulder Ilex carefully and stride uphill toward the abbey main hall, shield angled over him. ‘Watchkeepers, hold the gate and keep folk clear of the flood. Fable, with me—we need whoever can help Ilex, now.’ I keep the party together and do not stop for the chain mystery.
Mira slips into the morning light. The threshold is dry and clear; beyond it, a gravel path climbs away from the abbey wall. She waves Fable forward, and Bramble keeps his shield between Ilex and the narrow stair as they bring him out. The lantern-bearing watchkeeper pulls the alarm cord. Its bell answers overhead; the other runs toward the upper gate, calling for help. Behind the shut grille, water strikes iron again—harder this time. The lantern-speaker kneels beside Ilex but does not promise a cure. The path uphill is open. Do you carry him toward the abbey's main hall, or stay to help secure the gate before the flood reaches it?
I slip past the watchkeepers into daylight, check the threshold for danger and dry footing, then wave Fable and Ilex through. ‘Didn’t see who struck the chain. Water’s rising—raise the alarm and fetch anyone who can help him.’
I take the lead up the clear left edge, shield between the watchkeepers and Fable as she carries Ilex through the daylight door. ‘We did not see who struck the upper chain. The lower passage is flooding—warn your people and shut the upper gate. Find someone who can tend our fallen friend.’ I keep the stair clear until everyone is outside.
Bramble's call stops the boots above. From the stair wall, Mira sees two abbey watchkeepers at the daylight landing: one holds a lantern, the other a hooked gate pole. Neither has a blade drawn. The left edge of the stair is clear, though only wide enough for Fable to carry Ilex through single file. Mira signals the route. The lantern-speaker lifts their light behind Bramble. 'I admitted them. Their companion is dead, and the lower passage is flooding.' The watchkeepers step aside, but the one with the pole asks, 'Who struck the upper chain?' Beyond them the daylight door stands open. Behind the party, water knocks against the dropped grille. They can take Ilex into the light now, or pause to answer and ask for help with the flood.
I slip along the stair wall a few steps ahead of Bramble, keeping low while his call draws their eyes. I peek toward the boots and scan for weapons or a clear path, then signal the safest way through for Fable and Ilex.
I step ahead of Fable and Ilex, shield high, and call up the stair: ‘Bramble Ash! The flood drove us through the lower gate. We carry a fallen companion—send a healer and clear the stair!’ I lead the party toward daylight, keeping myself between them and the boots above.
Mira's pick catches the locking pawl just as Bramble hauls against the wheel. The teeth skip once, then hold. Together they pull the grille wide enough for Fable to carry Ilex through; Neri, the keeper, and the speaker squeeze after, and Bramble follows last. Behind them the freed wheel completes its turn with a hard clang. The grille drops shut, cutting off the flooded passage. Daylight spills down the stair ahead, but from above comes the scrape of boots and a voice calling, 'Who opened the lower gate?' They can call back, climb quietly, or pause to look through the bars; the water is still rising behind them.
While Bramble holds the turning wheel, I kneel at the grille, find the locking pawl, and pin it back with my thieves’ tools. ‘Pull now—get Ilex through first.’
I settle Ilex into Fable’s arms, plant my boots, and seize the scored handwheel. With both hands I wrench it against its slow turning, trying to open the grille before it locks. ‘Mira, take them up the stair the moment it gives!’
Mira slips through the gallery door with her lantern hooded. The short passage beyond is dry: no tripwire, disturbed dust, or waiting figure. She waves Bramble through, and he carries Ilex past her while Fable, Neri, the keeper, and the speaker follow. The speaker pulls the door shut; a moment later water strikes its far side hard enough to shake the latch. Ahead, the passage ends at a locked iron grille. Through it Mira can see a stair climbing toward daylight. Beside the grille sits a handwheel with two narrow parallel scores on its hub, like those on the brass shaving—but the speaker cannot yet say they came from the same tool. The wheel has begun to turn slowly on its own. 'If it finishes a full turn, this grille may lock for good,' the keeper says. There is time to try the wheel or inspect its mechanism, but not to return to the flooded gallery.
I slip through the dry gallery door ahead of Bramble, lantern hooded, and check the immediate path for a trap or ambush. If clear, I wave them on with Ilex—no stopping while the water climbs.
I scoop Ilex into my arms and lead the party through the dry gallery door at once. ‘The water gets no more of us. Mira, light the way; everyone stay close.’ Shield between my companions and the stair, I bring up the rear once they are safely through.
Mira reaches the gallery first. The landing is empty, and her shaded lantern shows no wire or waiting figure around the brighter lamp. She waves Bramble up; he lays Ilex beside it while Fable, Neri, the keeper, and the speaker follow. In the stronger light, the speaker can make out two parallel tool scores on the shaving, but still cannot say whether it came from Ilex's wound or his cloak. A muffled knock travels up from the inner door below. Water is climbing the stair; the speaker points to a dry gallery door and asks whether the party wants to carry Ilex onward or spend one brief moment looking for a matching scored fitting here.
I dart a few steps ahead of Bramble up the clear stair, lantern shaded. At the gallery I check the landing and bright lamp for a waiting threat, then wave the others through so the speaker can examine the shaving beside Ilex.
I lift Ilex from the table and take the clear stair toward the upper gallery. ‘Water is rising. All of us up—now.’ I lead with my shield forward, keeping Mira and her lantern close while Fable, Neri, the keeper, and the speaker follow with the brass shaving. At the brighter lamp, I set Ilex down gently and hold the stair so the speaker can compare the marks.
Mira's low lantern finds no tripwire or disturbed floor seam in the dry chamber. The table is sturdy, the linens clean but recently unfolded; a narrow stair climbs from the far wall to an upper gallery. Bramble carries Ilex in, the keeper and Neri follow, and the inner door closes against the surge. On clean linen the speaker turns the brass shaving with a key tip: two close, straight score marks run along it, but they cannot tell whether it came from the wound or was caught in Ilex's cloak. 'I need the upper gallery's brighter lamp to compare it,' they say. Water taps the bottom of the inner door, then rises to a steady hiss. The stair is clear for now; the party can take Ilex and the shaving up, or spend a brief moment examining the chamber before the seal gives.
I slip into the dry chamber ahead of Bramble, lantern low. I check the table, linens, and exits for traps or signs of recent use, then hold the light steady for the speaker to examine Ilex and the brass shaving.
I take Ilex carefully in both arms and carry him through the open inner door to the dry table. ‘Fable, stay with him; Mira, bring the light. Neri, the keeper—inside, now.’ Once everyone clears the threshold, I shut the inner door against the rising water and stand guard while the speaker gets a clean linen to examine Ilex and the brass shaving.
The lantern-speaker leans over Ilex without touching the brass shaving. 'Keep the light there. I need a clean cloth—and a moment to see whether that shaving belongs to the wound or only to his cloak.' Their fingers check for a pulse, then still. 'I'm sorry. This is no wound I can mend here.' Fable remains at Ilex's side. A hard surge slams the wicket behind Bramble; water threads under its lower edge. Beyond Mira's watchful eye, the open inner door leads to a dry chamber with a table and hanging linens. The speaker offers the keys: 'Bring him through. We can look properly there, but this passage won't stay dry.' Neri and the shrine keeper wait for the party to move; the brass shaving's origin and the blows at the upper gate remain unknown.
I hold the lantern steady over Ilex, ease back his cloak to show the blade wound and brass shaving, and give the speaker and Fable room to work. ‘Here. What do you need?’ I keep the open inner door in the corner of my eye.
I lift Ilex gently onto the dry alcove bench, keeping his head steady. ‘Fable, stay with him. Please look at him now,’ I tell the lantern-speaker. Then I plant myself between them and the rattling wicket, shield ready.
Mira's careful steps find sound flagstones and no visible wire along the short passage. The lantern-speaker holds the light in one hand and a ring of keys in the other; no weapon shows. 'Set your friend on the bench,' they say, pointing to a dry alcove, 'and let me look.' Behind Bramble, floodwater strikes the shut wicket hard enough to rattle its hasp. An inner door stands open beyond the lantern, but the speaker waits for the party to bring Ilex forward. Fable is still tending him; he has not stirred.
I slip a few paces ahead in the dry passage, quiet as dust, checking the floor for wires and the lantern-speaker’s hands for a weapon. I signal Fable to keep tending Ilex behind me until the way is clear.
I plant my shield toward the rising water and hold the service wicket wide. ‘Keeper, Neri—inside, now.’ Once both are through, I slip in last and pull the hasp shut, staying between the passage and the road while Fable tends Ilex.
Bramble's blows ring through the abbey door. Mira finds a narrow service wicket beneath the eaves, its outside hasp stiff but unbarred. As she lifts it, the lantern shutter above snaps open. A tired voice calls, 'Bring your friend in. Quickly.' Mira waves Fable and Ilex through first; Bramble can cover the road while the keeper and Neri follow. Water is already hissing into the lowest step behind them. Inside, a dry passage leads toward the lantern and the waiting speaker. Whoever struck the upper gate remains unknown.
I slip along the abbey wall under the eaves, checking for a side latch or reachable shutter while Bramble calls at the door. I keep the stretcher in sight. If I find a way in, I wave Fable through first with Ilex.
I shoulder the stretcher up to the abbey door and hammer on the iron with my gauntlet. ‘Open! We have a dying friend and floodwater at our heels!’ I plant my shield toward the road, keep Ilex under the eaves, and give Fable room to tend him while we wait for the answer.
Mira tests the broad road around the bend: firm gravel under the runoff, no wire, and no one coming from the ruin. She waves the stretcher through. Bramble and Fable bring Ilex up beside her while Neri stays between them, hands visible. Behind, the shrine board finally gives way; water pours across the lower path and closes the route back. Ahead, the road climbs to the abbey's barred outer door. A lantern burns behind its shutter, but no one has answered yet. Fable keeps Ilex sheltered from the rain; he does not stir. The party can call at the door now or keep moving along the exposed road before the water climbs higher.
I slip ahead along the broad abbey road, keeping the stretcher in sight. I test the next bend for firm footing and watch for anyone approaching from the ruin. ‘Clear path here—bring Ilex through. Neri stays between us.’
I take the broad abbey road with Ilex, not the narrow overlook. I steady the stretcher beside Fable and keep my shield turned toward the flooded cut. ‘Fable, tend Ilex while we move. Mira, find us firm ground ahead. Neri, stay in sight.’ No one is left behind.
Bramble takes Mira's marked stones two at a time. The storm board gives behind him with a crack, and brown water sweeps across the shrine floor—but no one is caught. Mira finds a dry shelf above the bend and counts them through: keeper, Fable and Ilex, Neri, then Bramble. Below, the flooded cut rings once with metal on stone. From this rise they can take the broad abbey road with Ilex or a narrow, dry overlook above the sluice; the rising water is already closing the route back. Neri stays where everyone can see their hands and waits for the party's choice.
I sprint ahead along the marked stones, find the next patch of high, firm ground, and wave the others through. ‘Bramble, last one up. Keep Ilex moving—no stops in the runoff.’
I give the failing storm board one last shove with my shield, then let it go and retreat up Mira’s marked safe stones before the water cuts me off. I catch up to the others with my shield toward the flooded shrine. ‘Everyone’s clear—keep Ilex moving uphill. No one goes back for the board.’
Mira tests the uphill stones with her dagger. The first bend is firm; beyond it, runoff has eaten a handspan from the outer edge. She marks the safe side with a strip of cloth and waves the keeper through. The keeper and Fable carry Ilex past the bend; Neri follows with empty hands in sight. 'They're high!' Mira calls. Below, another blow travels through the flooded cut. Bramble's shield catches the storm board as its lower wedge jumps loose. Water spills across the shrine floor, but the marked path back to Mira is still open. Bramble can fall back now; holding the board longer will only cost him ground.
I slip ahead up the shrine path, checking the next few steps for washouts or tripwires, then wave the keeper and Fable through with Ilex. ‘Clear trail. Move now—Bramble, I’ll call when they’re high.’
I plant my shield flat against the shuddering storm board and set my shoulder behind it for the next impact. ‘Keeper, take Ilex and everyone uphill now. Mira, clear their path—I’ll hold this line until you’re safe.’