The prisoner held the Roadwright stop signal until her fingers shook.
Valea lowered the root hammer. No one else moved.
The scarred woman pointed past her own shoulder, then struck the glass beneath her ribs. Her bent leg jerked in a deeper layer and vanished again.
Aylin wanted the rescue moving before Ninebell's bells changed again. The woman's shaking hand made the stronger demand. They would understand the stop before they touched another tool, even if the delay gave Gredudande more road.
"Her lower weight is not with her," Valea said. "If we pull the shoulders now, the road keeps the rest."
Aylin's good hand stayed against the pane. "Can we bring the lower layer forward first?"
The prisoner shook her head. She pointed toward Ninebell, then dragged one finger across her throat.
Behind her, the black-green branch had reached the wet groove under Westbell's frame. Reversing the lower layer would pull it through her body.
