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Dad nails the poster to the board himself. Black wax seal at the bottom, which means Council-sanctioned, which means don't ask questions.
I'm still standing in the doorway with Dax's blood under my nails.
"That's Ghost Erika," I say.
Dad doesn't turn around. "You don't need to know her name."
"You just put it on the wall."
"Rona." He says it like a warning. Like I'm supposed to shut up and go back to inventory. "Go clean up."
I don't move. The poster's got a photo—blurry, taken from distance, but I can see enough. Woman, maybe forty, dark coat, short hair, scar across her jaw. Bounty sum's got six zeroes. Alive preferred but not required.
That last part's new. Most high-value tags want the target breathing. This one doesn't care.
"She killed a whole estate," I say. "That's what Dax said."
Dad finally looks at me. His face is the same face he had when he told me Mom wasn't coming home. Flat. Tired. Done.
"Sixteen people. Staff, family, guards. She walked in through the front and walked out before sunrise."
"Why?"
"Doesn't matter."
"It matters if we're going after her."
He pulls the hammer off his belt and sets it on the table between us. Not a threat. Just a fact. "You're not going after anyone. You're staying here and running med supply for the next rotation."
I laugh. I don't mean to. It just comes out. "You're taking Dax."
"Dax is cleared for field."
"Dax almost bled out in the dirt an hour ago."
"And you kept him alive." Dad crosses his arms. "That's your job. You're good at it. So do it."
I step into the room. My boots still have mud on them from the gorge. "I have an ability now."
"You have a liability."
That stops me cold.
Dad picks up a rag and wipes down the hammer like we're talking about weather. "Blood-bond means you can't finish a job. You need the target alive to pull anything useful. That makes you a risk in the field."
"I saved Dax."
"You got lucky."
"I copied his speed—"
"For thirty seconds." He looks up. "What happens when thirty seconds isn't enough? What happens when you bond to the wrong person and they drop before you get what you need?"
I don't have an answer for that.
He keeps going. "What happens when the target figures out you need them alive and uses it against you?"
"That's not—"
"It's exactly how it works, Rona. You think every fugitive's going to stand still and let you bleed on them? You think they won't cut their own throat the second they realize you're bonded?"
My chest feels tight. I want to argue. I want to tell him he's wrong. But I don't know if he is.
Dad sets the hammer down. "You're staying. That's final."
He walks out.
I stand there for a long time looking at the poster. Ghost Erika. Sixteen dead. Black seal. The border ruins are two days' ride east, past the old quarantine zone where nothing grows right anymore. Dangerous ground even without a fugitive.
I pull the poster off the wall.
There's another one underneath.
Older. Faded. Same black seal, but the wax is cracked. No photo, just a sketch. Woman with short hair, scar on her jaw, same build. Bounty sum's got five zeroes. Dated eleven years ago.
Same person.
She's been running for eleven years and the Council just now put a kill-order on her?
I look closer. The old poster's got a note scrawled in the margin in Dad's handwriting: "Coordinating with East archive. G.K. clearance only."
G.K. Grimm Kash. He's been tracking her since before I awakened.
I flip the new poster over. Nothing on the back. But when I hold it up to the light, there's a stamp partially hidden under the black seal: "Estate Winn."
Winn.
I've heard that name.
I dig through the cabinet under the board. Dad keeps old route maps in there, the kind with notes about safe houses and supply drops. Most of them are outdated, but he never throws anything away.
Third folder down I find it. A map of the eastern border, marked up in two different hands. Dad's block print and someone else's narrow scrawl. The narrow writing's got a note in the corner: "Grimm—don't take the northern pass. Winn estate's got mercs on rotation now. —L."
L.
Mom's name was Lena.
I pull the map out. It's old, creased, stained with something that might be coffee. The route markings run right past the Winn estate, loop south through the ruins, and end at a town that doesn't exist anymore. There's a date: ten years ago. Three months before Mom died.
I unfold it all the way.
There's a note tucked inside. Small, square, folded twice. I open it.
Mom's handwriting. I know it from the logs she used to keep, the ones Dad locked away after the funeral.
"Don't trust the black seal."
That's it. Four words. No signature, no explanation.
I read it again. My hands are shaking.
Don't trust the black seal.
The bounty on Ghost Erika has a black seal.
The old bounty on her had a black seal.
Mom wrote this ten years ago and died three months later on a run near the Winn estate.
I fold the note and shove it in my pocket. I put the old poster back under the new one and pin them both to the board. I slide the map back into the folder, but I keep it out on the table like I'm just looking at routes.
Footsteps in the hall. Dax.
He leans in the doorway, one hand pressed to his side where the claw got him. His face is pale but he's standing, which means the bond worked. Which means he's not going to thank me.
"Dad says we leave at dawn," he says.
"He says I'm staying."
Dax shrugs. "Good. You'd slow us down."
I don't look at him. I'm still staring at the poster. "You ever hear of Estate Winn?"
"No. Why?"
"No reason."
He pushes off the doorway. "Don't touch my gear while I'm gone."
He leaves.
I wait until his footsteps fade. Then I pull the note back out of my pocket and read it one more time.
Don't trust the black seal.
Mom knew something. She wrote this and hid it in a map Dad still uses. She wanted someone to find it. Maybe she wanted me to find it.
I grab my coat off the hook.
If Dad's leaving at dawn, that gives me tonight to get answers. There's one person in the compound who was around when Mom died. One person who might actually tell me the truth.
Uncle Sev. Dad's older brother. Retired from field work after he lost his left hand to a rogue cleaver-class. He runs the archive now, down in the basement where nobody goes unless they need a contract pulled.
I head for the stairs.
The archive smells like old paper and lamp oil. Sev's at his desk, reading something by candlelight even though we've got working electricity. He likes the drama.
"Rona," he says without looking up. "You're supposed to be in medical."
"I need to ask you something."
"No."
"You don't know what I'm going to ask."
He turns a page. "You're going to ask about your mother. The answer's no."
I walk up to the desk and put the note down in front of him.
He goes still.
Then he picks it up. Reads it. Sets it down. Looks at me.
"Where did you get this?"
"Dad's map folder."
Sev's jaw tightens. He folds the note and hands it back. "Put it back."
"What does it mean?"
"It means your mother didn't trust certain contracts. It doesn't mean anything now."
"Ghost Erika has a black seal."
Sev stands up. He's taller than Dad, broader, but the missing hand makes him look unbalanced. "Go to bed, Rona."
"Mom died near the Winn estate. Ghost Erika just killed everyone in the Winn estate. That's not a coincidence."
"It's not your business."
"It is if Dad's walking into the same thing that killed her."
Sev doesn't answer. He just looks at me for a long time, like he's deciding something.
Finally he sits back down. "Your mother took a black-seal contract eleven years ago. Target was a fugitive named Erika Winn. She was supposed to bring her in alive. She didn't."
"She killed her?"
"She let her go."
I stare at him. "Why?"
"I don't know. Lena wouldn't say. The Council pulled her clearance. Your father spent two years getting it reinstated. Three months after she got it back, she died on a run."
"What run?"
"Classified."
"Sev—"
"I don't know, Rona. Grimm wouldn't tell me. He came back alone and said she didn't make it. We burned her and moved on."
I feel sick. "And now he's going after Erika again."
Sev nods. "She resurfaced. The Council wants her dead this time. No alive-preferred. Just dead."
"And you're letting him go."
"He's the best tracker we have. If anyone can bring her down, it's Grimm."
"What if she knows what happened to Mom?"
Sev stands up again. "Then your father will find out and he'll kill her anyway. Go to bed."
He blows out the candle.
I walk back upstairs. My hands won't stop shaking.
Mom let Ghost Erika go. The Council punished her. She died three months after they let her work again.
And now Dad's hunting the same woman with a kill-order.
I don't go to my room. I go to the armory.
If Dad's leaving at dawn, I've got six hours to pack.
I'm not staying behind.
---
I'm loading a pack when the explosion lights up the east window.
I drop the canteen. Run to the glass.
The sky over the border ruins is orange. Not sunset orange. Flare orange.
Distress signal.
Someone's alive inside the Winn estate.
And they're calling for help.