By the time the last of the timber was hauled up onto the rock tortoise's broad back, the light had begun to fade, turning the sky a molten orange. The air smelled faintly of dust and pine resin. Luciel stood at the edge of the half-finished roof, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his palms dusted with the fine gray of stone powder.
"Alright," he murmured, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Now we can start on the roof."
Mino was already halfway up the wall before he finished speaking. "I'll lay the bricks! You pass them to me," she called down cheerfully, her voice ringing with excitement.
Luciel looked up at her slight frame balancing on the narrow beam and couldn't help smiling. "Be careful, and make sure your footing's steady."
"Got it!" she replied, crouching to set the first stone into place.
