"Cell A," Liora's voice came through the tube, lower now. "We have a real incursion on Gate Six's outer landing. Wardline failure. You will hold at the jamb and follow my instructions only. Repeat."
"Hold at the jamb," Cael said. "Follow you only."
"Good," she said. "Dorian?"
"Cell B is three turns back," Dorian's voice answered from another tube, quiet and precise. "They will hold."
"Armand," Liora said, "report leash."
"Two threads clean," I said. "Marrow in Shade, Hollow perched. No fuzz."
"Keep them there. Do not present silhouettes. No heroics."
"Understood."
The noise beyond the gate resolved into steps—heavy, irregular, like an animal that had learned to enjoy stairs. Steel hissed somewhere outside. A warden muttered a prayer they weren't supposed to say out loud on duty.
"Identify," Cael said.
"Leaper," Liora answered. "Forest strain. How it got here is a conversation for later. Think long limbs, too many joints, no love for corners. It likes necks and ceilings."
