Val stops sketching and looks at his fingers.

Then he stows his writing book and pencil in his satchel, swings it around his shoulders and climbs gamely to his feet.

"Do they move independently? Or when we move one, will all move?"

He gets down on his hands and knees on tier two, trying to peer beneath it to see if there is any space there, anything that might be wedged in and hobbling the movement of disk one. It is, of course, very dark. But he has excellent eyesight, being Orlesian. Yet who has better eyesight than the elves? He gestures excitedly to the Warden.

"Mademoiselle Warden! Your eyes are needed!"