The midday sun beat down upon the parapet of the second viaduct tracing station, baking the grey granite until heat shimmers danced across the flags.
Crouched on a column north of the station, Rumi angled her tawny ears toward the platform, listening past the gusts from the gorge.
Her tail flicked once against the coping before she tucked it close, keeping its movement beneath the guard's line of sight.
'Master Taren took the lower cellar with his fists, and now the middle tower belongs to me.'
Four amber-edged spatial planes folded close behind her, leaving room for her back beneath the overhanging stonework.
She remembered the route she had held outside the collapsed archive, waiting for Nari's answer from within while her own fourth Wing opened.
Down on the circular landing platform of the second station, an elite Choral sentinel stood watch beside the exposed brass tracing socket.
