"Noted," he said.
In his head, he added, Pull from the edges, not the centre. No heroics from the scouts. Just enough to see, not enough to drown.
Rodion adjusted.
On the pane, Rhaen straightened from where the junction had dropped her and took another slow step forward.
The hall watched her.
And now, so did three very different predators.
The floor reacted faster now.
Rhaen could feel it, even without touching the lines with her fingers.
When she hesitated, the grooves closest to the exit arch dimmed slightly, as if inviting her back. When she focused on the deeper parts of the hall, on the pull in her gut that said "core" whether she liked it or not, different lines brightened.
It was like walking across an argument.
Part of the pattern wanted her to retreat. Part of it wanted her to commit.
She stopped in the middle of a cluster of intersecting grooves, balancing carefully on a patch where three lines met.
Her thigh burned. Her side ached. Sweat dripped down her spine.
