The bronze palm clenched around Aylin's boot.
There were no fingers in the road, only stone swelling over leather. It reached her ankle before Hest drove one broken half of his gate bar into the seam.
Across the moonlit rest, Kedra's board lurched the other way.
Pava caught Kedra under the ribs before the binding could drag across her throat. "Breathe for me. Your own breath. Do not follow hers."
Kedra forced air out through her nose.
The palm on the plate changed. Aylin's broken smallest finger smoothed away. Kedra's raw wrist seal spread through the bronze instead.
Stone released Aylin and closed over Kedra's nearest runner.
"That is an unpleasant trick," Hest said.
"It is not a trick," Valea answered. She dusted chalk along the plate without putting her hand inside the impression. "The old road has room for one hand. Every breath gives it a different one."
"I liked trick better. Tricks can be insulted."
