The nursery wall knocked three times.
Every adult wyvern in the nearest chamber turned away from its eggs.
Through the bronze arch, Jiang saw scaled tails and folded wings crowd toward blank red stone. A black-feathered parent struck the wall with her muzzle. Again, the fixed rhythm sounded from deeper inside it, clean and patient.
Behind her, one egg moved.
Its feather bed had slipped sideways on a hanging shelf. The shell's weight carried it into the sagging rim, where it stopped and knocked once against the wood. Neither parent heard it over the stone.
Rill appeared on the far side of the arch with Slate's hook chain around his waist. "The nursery shelf is going. If the adults hit that wall again, the lower bridge comes with it."
Jiang tried to tell him which sound was alive.
Air scraped through his throat. Nothing else came.
Aylin's face tightened, but she did not finish the thought for him. "Show me."
