Chapter 17 · The First Debt Below

"You're going to borrow a debt?" Mara's voice cuts through the safehouse like a blade.

I don't look up from the ledger. The pages are flickering again, names scrolling past faster than I can read them. "Not borrow. Trade."

"That's worse."

"Yeah, well." I flip to the back section, where the city's oldest debts live. The ink here is different. Darker. It doesn't just sit on the page—it moves, like something's breathing underneath. "The thing eating Cinderfall isn't some street-level collector. It's old. Really old. And it only answers to debts that go back further than mine."

Mara moves closer. I can feel the heat of her at my shoulder, the faint smell of gun oil and coffee. "So you're going to what? Walk up to some underground nightmare and say please?"

"Something like that."

She reaches past me and slams the ledger shut. Her palm stays flat on the cover, fingers splayed. "No."

I meet her eyes. They're sharp, angry, and scared. The last part's new. "We don't have another play."

"We have a dozen plays. We can trace the money trail. We can pull records. We can—"

"Run out of time.