Elias had the grease pencil out before Zubair finished the second tap. He circled both bolts, printed a quick arrow, wrote a number that only meant anything to him. Lachlan laid rope and hardware like he was dealing cards, fast and neat. Alexei put his weight on the first bolt and grunted, satisfied.
"Glass?" Elias asked, testing the pane with the flat of his knuckles.
"Don't love the chatter," Zubair said. "Acceptable if we don't do anything stupid."
Lachlan wagged his eyebrows and then, to his credit, kept his feet planted. He threaded the first carabiner and fed rope through. The line purred as it ran.
Wind licked their knees. The bridge tried to talk them into a misstep with a dozen little noises: a light fixture ticking its chain, a rail vibrating under a gust, two panes complaining to each other where a seal had gone brittle. Sera's fingers went numb where she held the door. Alexei shouldered in beside her and took the weight without making a show of it.
