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They all crowded into the tiny space, blindly tracing the edges and contours of the walls. “Here! Here! I found it!” Stollo exclaimed.
They shifted awkwardly around each other so Tezzel could stand beside him and he could guide her hand to the right spot.
“I feel it,” she said. “Now what?”
“Now—” Pietro said, and the floor started shaking. There was a terrible, unearthly groaning, as if the very world was wailing out its grief and desperation, and the walls crept forward by an inch. The ceiling dropped hard enough to make Pietro and the captain grunt. Sand sifted down into their hair.
“Now!” Pietro shouted, slamming his hand over Tezzel’s where it rested against the stone. “Push it with all your strength!”
He was pressed so close against her that he could feel her shoulders cord with effort; he felt the tendons rise in the back of her hand. The floor beneath them continued a slow, incessant shuddering. More dust sprinkled down.
The walls didn’t budge.
Tezzel gasped and fell back against Pietro, panting. “I can’t—it’s too heavy—”
“Tezzel,” he said, “you have to.”
“I’m not strong enough!”
“Or Cordelan is too strong,” Stollo said. “He never wanted Zessaya’s interference.”
It was the only thing Pietro could think of. He yanked out his chazissa, depicting the goddess with her head bent over a book. Oh, why hadn’t he purchased a figurine of Zessaya in her warrior pose, ready to do battle with her longtime enemy? “Take this,” he said. “Hold it in one hand and push with the other. I’ll help you. We all will.”
She dropped her glowing clump of dirt in Stollo’s outstretched palm, and instantly the room went dark except for the glancing light cast by the single remaining lamp. She closed the fingers of one hand around the small charm and laid her other hand in the imprint on the wall. Again, Pietro placed his hand over hers, covering it completely. Stollo positioned himself behind Pietro, his hand against Pietro’s shoulder, and the guard moved behind Stollo. Pietro could feel every ounce of their weight bearing down on him.
He leaned into Tezzel with his whole body, pressed her hand into the wall with all the strength he could summon. She muffled a cry, and he wondered if he had snapped her finger bones. He pressed harder. Against his back, Stollo felt so heavy, heavier than the earth itself, crushing the air from Pietro’s lungs and compacting him into a single driving pylon of intent.
The room shifted around them and they all stumbled forward a pace. “The ceiling is coming down!” the guard yelled.
Pietro couldn’t believe it. “No!” he shouted back, shot through with a brutal euphoria. “We pushed the wall back!”
Only an inch or two, but he hadfeltit give way under their combined assault. Tezzel sucked in a great lungful of air, braced her arm, and waited for the rest of them to reposition themselves. When Pietro increased the pressure of his hand over hers, she shoved herself forward again with a low growl.
The wall slipped back about a foot. The ceiling creaked alarmingly as it winched itself up.
Stollo loosed a cry of delight. “We did it! We’re doing it!”
Tezzel was panting. “How far?” she asked.
“As far as we can make it go,” Pietro answered.
She nodded grimly and once again fitted her hand into the narrow casting. In the impossible light, Pietro couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw blood trickle between her fingers.
This time they propelled the wall back about a yard. The ceiling retreated enough that Pietro felt himself grow giddy with an internal sense of expansion.
“Aren’t we done yet?” Stollo demanded. “How big is the roomsupposedto be?”
Pietro glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t know exactly. Maybe twice this size?”
“I’m worried about Tezzel,” Stollo said. “Maybe this is good enough to hold the city for a while, and she can come back some day when she’s stronger.”
Tezzel shook her head. “I’m not coming back,” she said. “Someone else can do it next time.”
“Do you have one more try in you?” Pietro asked, as gently as he could.
She nodded and braced herself again, waiting for them to line up behind her. Once more, she took a deep breath, but this time she let it out in a sort of battle cry, ramming herself forward as if her arm was a lance and the rough stone surface was a bitter enemy.
The walls fell back and fell back and fell back, seeming to move along rails suddenly oiled smooth. Then abruptly, with aclunkso loud it echoed around the chamber, they locked in place. Carried forward by momentum, the four of them tumbled against each other and skidded to the floor. Stollo started laughing. Pietro landed on his side and rolled to his back, gazing around him in wonder.
