The second shelter was still occupied, but reaching it took longer than Martin expected. A section of the walkway had collapsed across the entrance, leaving a broken bronze support wedged diagonally between the floor and ceiling.
Voices answered from the other side when the wardens called physically through the gap.
"They're alive," one warden said.
"How many?"
"Seven."
Martin crouched beneath the support and tested it with Breakwater Aegis. The metal shifted immediately, sending a shower of dust across his shoulders.
"Don't touch that again," the other warden said.
"Wasn't planning to."
He slid the shield beneath the broken support, braced his Worldshell-covered arm against the underside, and pushed upward slowly. The weight settled through his shoulders and back until his boots scraped against the floor.
No special skill solved the problem. No route-song opened another path. It was simply heavy, and Martin could hold heavy things.
"Now."
