Chapter 18 · Silver in the Wound

The guard's hand was already on Alto's shoulder when Lira stepped between them.

"Not him," she said. Her voice didn't shake. "The blade went through the other one."

Alto watched her lie to her own father's men. Kael was still on the ground, blood soaking through the wrap someone had thrown over his side. The silver blade sat in a puddle three feet away, and nobody was stupid enough to touch it.

The lead guard—Alto remembered him from the governor's hall, scar down his jaw, name like Torven or Korven—looked at Lira the way you look at a kid who just said the sky is green.

"Lady Tavan. We saw the mark."

"You saw a scar." Lira didn't move. "Half the fighters here have scars. My father sent you to secure the contamination risk. That's him." She pointed at Kael. "He took silver. He's the exposure."

Korven's jaw worked. "Your father said—"

"My father isn't here. I am." She pulled a brass token from her belt, the kind medic corps carried. "I'm invoking quarantine seal. The wounded man comes with me. The rest of you clear the sand and burn it."

Alto felt the lie working.