The third rule beyond the wall announced itself without ceremony.
Attention compressed space.
Lyra felt it before she could name it. The outpost seemed smaller at dawn, the air tighter, as if the land itself had leaned in. Even the wolves moved differently. Less wandering. More clustering. Eyes lifted more often to the ridgelines, hands resting longer on hilts.
Pressure didn’t shout.
It narrowed options.
Tyler joined her at the map table, fingers braced on the wood. He hadn’t slept. She could see it in the set of his shoulders, the careful stillness that meant he was conserving energy.
“Two watchers last night,” he said quietly. “Different routes. Different habits.”
Lyra nodded. “Ash’s people don’t double up like that.”
“No,” Tyler agreed. “This is the other one.”
She slid a marke
