Senna and Thessaly built the anchor together.
I watched them work in the lower library for two days, their earlier antagonism having converted, through the specific alchemy of shared technical challenge, into a working relationship that was occasionally brilliant and consistently loud.
They argued about methodology the way people argue when they are both right about different things and have not yet found the synthesis, which in this case arrived on the second afternoon with enough force that Thessaly sat down abruptly and Senna said “yes, exactly, write that down.”
The anchor required Caelan’s blood. Not a small amount.
He gave it without comment.
I watched him press his palm to the library’s foundation stone and hold it there while the anchor took what it needed, and I thought abou
