Chapter 23 · The grid needs a conductor

He moved just enough to let her breathe, but kept their hands locked. "The grid needs a conductor."

"The seal."

"The seal is the door. The grid is the lock's teeth."

"And you?"

"The key, apparently."

"You don't know what you are."

His expression went flat. "I know what people do when they find out."

The answer was too quick. Too clean.

Mara heard the fear underneath it and almost hated him more for giving her something real.

She bent over the map without pulling away from him. The ink had formed three symbols. One looked like an eye. One looked like a broken crown. The last was a small black hand wrapped around a red thread.

Her old auditor instincts snapped into place.

"The outer ring isn't a kill mark," she said.

"It cut through a steel door."

"Because the door carried a ward. The grid is separating active magic from dead matter. It isn't trying to kill us."

"The bodies in the corridor disagree."

"Your dead smugglers weren't carrying a city seal."

"They were carrying me."

Mara looked up. "What does that mean?"

Calder's silence answered first.

She twisted her wrist, forcing his grip to shift.