The doctor isn’t sure who he was hoping would come out of the hallway — not Clarisse or Abby, for certain, he doesn’t want to drop this kind of horrifying morning on his infirmary assistants without warning — and when it’s Averesch, he doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, either.

But the other man is young, not built like a twig, and he’s got magic. Good enough.

The first attempt is lopsided, mistimed. But Strange finishes offloading most of the bookcase, getting the worst of the heavy tomes out of the way — this really underscores the importance of anchoring IKEA bookshelves, doesn’t it — and then digs his fingertips under the edge. Grips hard on the bottom rim of the bookcase, despite that instant surge of pain through his hands when he does so. He meets Kostos’ eye and nods once, brisk.

“One, two, three—”

And they heave.