The fourth night did not remain peaceful.
A bargeman who had tied up after dark brought the first warning: three figures in mixed Archive-gray and old Closed Eye leather had been asking after spiral scars at every landing for two days. They carried treated restraints and the particular stillness of people who had already decided that limited wounds were an unacceptable risk.
Kael’s expression flattened. “Hardliners who did not get the letter about the new edges. Or stewards who preferred the old kind of control. Either way, they followed the wrong rumor to the right place.”
Sera was already moving. “We leave before dawn. Quietly.”
They did not get the chance.
The attack came at the second bell after midnight—fast, professional, and aimed at the lens first. Six attackers, not three. Tw
