Chapter 18 · Blood Doesn't Care

The collar's already around his neck before Kai can argue.

Cold metal. Rune-etched. The kind of thing that makes his sternum itch even before Luca's guy clicks it shut. The hall's gone quiet. Every Red Heron face in the gallery is watching. Vera's three rows back, arms crossed, jaw tight enough to crack.

Luca's standing on the upper step like he's conducting an orchestra. "Simple diagnostic," he says, voice carrying. "The Arbor Mark responds to intention. To lineage. We've done this a hundred times."

Kai doesn't buy it. The guy next to him—some junior proctor in red and gray—has a tablet in one hand and a rod in the other. The rod's pointed at Kai's chest. Not his neck. His chest.

"What's the collar for?" Kai asks.

The proctor doesn't look up. "Regulation. Keeps the output from spiking."

"Output."

"Your mark. If it flares, the collar grounds it." He taps the tablet. "You'll feel pressure. Don't resist. Resistance skews the reading."

Kai glances past him. Vera's leaning forward now. Her fingers are drumming her knee. One-two-three. The pattern she used last week when they had to bail out of the East Stair because someone tipped the vault patrol.