[Nico abandons his doomed venture with the wall to inspect the floor where indicated, and his stomach gives a hopeful lurch as his eyes trace along the arc of the scratch to where it disappears beneath the bookshelf. He wonders vaguely if Lev's words were an incantation, or a prayer, or something in between; if it had been a prayer, clearly Lev's gods are listening to him where Nico's are not.]
I'm going to try to move it. [He holds up his hands as far as his stiff shoulders will allow to demonstrate that he still has enough movement in his fingers to grip things, and then maneuvers to slide his arm in behind it against the wall. He coughs when the movement sends up a little poof of dust directly into his eyes and nose, but when it clears a little he sucks in a breath to brace with and, leaning back with all his weight, he starts to drag it out.
It inches away from the wall, slowly at first and then when he gets it about a foot away from the wall Nico pivots in the direction he wants it to go so he can move it faster, and then there's a horrible, soft cracking noise, pitched high with the distinctive almost-hiss of porcelain breaking.
Nico freezes, staring at Lev like a deer caught in a set of headlights, feeling suddenly like his heart is trying to climb out of him using his throat. That? Was his sword arm.] I think it's wide enough, [he says, faintly. Get out first, panic later. He saw a door back there.]
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I'm going to try to move it. [He holds up his hands as far as his stiff shoulders will allow to demonstrate that he still has enough movement in his fingers to grip things, and then maneuvers to slide his arm in behind it against the wall. He coughs when the movement sends up a little poof of dust directly into his eyes and nose, but when it clears a little he sucks in a breath to brace with and, leaning back with all his weight, he starts to drag it out.
It inches away from the wall, slowly at first and then when he gets it about a foot away from the wall Nico pivots in the direction he wants it to go so he can move it faster, and then there's a horrible, soft cracking noise, pitched high with the distinctive almost-hiss of porcelain breaking.
Nico freezes, staring at Lev like a deer caught in a set of headlights, feeling suddenly like his heart is trying to climb out of him using his throat. That? Was his sword arm.] I think it's wide enough, [he says, faintly. Get out first, panic later. He saw a door back there.]