Todd sent the rope back without himself attached.
Nana hauled the severed red cord through the judgment gate until a brass packing end struck her metal palm, bringing one long cut above six shorter ones into the lamplight. Gray crown wax filled the deepest groove.
Across the work pit, General Mattison lowered his chisel.
"Tell me Todd carved those marks before the floor ate the rest of him."
"Todd carved them because the long cut starts at the wrong edge for a route stamp."
Nana turned the brass under the lamps. Todd had pressed too hard on the fourth short cut and corrected it beside the first line. He always tried to improve a mark before admitting the tool had slipped.
The twelve masons watched from behind the old judgment arch. Their foreman, Tiral Voss, kept both hands on the timber brace supporting the petrified Cross Link Blade.
"The climbing line came back cut, which means the trial ends and the lower floor stays sealed."
