The patrol boots above them didn't hurry.
That was the first sign they were already late.
Astra froze under the drainage arch with Kael's hand still warm at her waist, the dead-sand grit in the air, the city's muffled heartbeat thudding through stone. The boots moved with the steady rhythm of people who believed the corridor belonged to them.
Her throat seal sat under cloth like a trapped insect—quiet now, but not asleep. Waiting.
And in her vision, the new line still pulsed, neat and fatal:
OWNER CHANNEL NOTE: HANDLER ROLE MAY BE TRANSFERRED BY HOUSE VEYRN CLAIM.
Dorian's laughter wasn't loud. It never needed to be.
"There," he murmured inside her nerves, intimate as breath at the throat. "Now you're official."
Astra swallowed and kept her face calm. Panic was a scent. Predators loved it.
Orin held up two fingers: hold.
Juno crouched low, disk ready, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if she could see the patrol through stone.
Lyra stood just behind, quiet for once, damp hem dark, gaze glittering with hungry interest.
Kael's breath hit Astra's hair. His voice was low, controlled. "What did it say."
Astra kept her eyes forward. "It raised my authority as 'handler' because you denied the report."
Kael's jaw clenched. "Compensation."
Astra nodded once. "And it says House Veyrn can transfer the role."
Kael went very still. She felt the micro-shift in his body like a knife turning in a sheath.
"Dorian," Kael said, flat.
Astra's throat burned. "Yes."
The boots above slowed. Stopped.
A faint scrape—someone turning.
Orin mouthed: move.
Astra didn't argue. She slid forward silently, careful with each step, keeping her breathing shallow so the seal wouldn't interpret it as distress. Kael stayed close without touching her throat, his hand still at her waist—steady, asked-for, bracing.
Juno slipped ahead and pressed a disk into a crack where the drainage corridor met older stone. The disk hummed low, dirtying the air like a curse you couldn't see.
The boots above resumed—slightly off-rhythm now.
Confused.
Good.
They reached a junction where the drainage widened into a low service artery. Orin stopped and listened, palm against stone. His scar-sigils were faint here—older, less maintained.
"This way," Orin whispered. "Market understructure. We can pop into a storage maze and lose their line."
Lyra smiled faintly. "Or get boxed in."
Orin shot her a look. "Pick a talent: useful or dead."
Lyra's smile didn't fade. "I'm always useful."
Astra didn't have time to hate that she believed it.
They moved, fast and quiet. The air got warmer as they neared the market bones. The stone changed from slick Underchain to rough support masonry. Wooden beams groaned overhead, heavy with stale spice and old wealth.
Astra's seal vibrated—tiny, eager. Signal was cleaner here. Too clean.
Her interface flickered.
WARNING: SIGNAL QUALITY RISINGNOTE: OWNER CHANNEL CLARITY IMPROVING
Dorian pressed closer like a lover who didn't ask.
"You're in my city," he murmured. "In my bones."
Astra clenched her jaw.
Kael's voice cut low at her ear. "Don't answer him."
"I'm not," Astra whispered.
Orin led them through a narrow gap into a storage maze—stacked crates, rotting cloth bales, old ledgers sealed in wax. The smell of dried herbs and rat droppings sat heavy in the air.
Juno muttered, "If I ever die, bury me somewhere that doesn't smell like spice."
Lyra's soft laugh answered. "You'd haunt the pepper."
They stopped behind a wall of crates.
Orin crouched and began tracing a scar-sigil on the floor with black paste—fast, practiced.
"We hold here," he whispered. "Breath low. No talking."
Astra nodded. Kael's hand at her waist tightened slightly, then loosened—he remembered the rules even while hiding.
"Consent?" he murmured.
Astra blinked. For what.
"To keep holding," Kael clarified, rough.
Heat flickered low in Astra's belly despite the danger.
"Yes," she whispered.
Kael's fingers stayed—warm, steady. Not owning.
Lyra watched them, eyes bright in the dim.
Astra refused to look away from the dark gaps between crates where a patrol might appear.
Then her interface flared—cold and sudden.
Not a broadcast.
A request.
HOUSE VEYRN CLAIM: TRANSFER HANDLER ROLEREQUESTING AUTHORITY: MARQUIS DORIAN VEYRNMETHOD: OWNER CHANNEL PRIORITYSTATUS: PENDING RESPONSENOTE: FAILURE TO RESPOND MAY DEFAULT TO ACCEPT UNDER THREAT CONDITIONS
Astra's blood went ice.
Dorian sighed in her nerves, pleased. "Be good and let me take the leash you picked up."
Kael felt her stiffen. "What."
Astra's mouth was dry. "He's requesting transfer."
Kael's jaw clenched. "Denied."
Astra swallowed. "If I deny, the system will classify it as conflict under threat. It might trigger pain—maybe broadcast—maybe push Kael's crest into handler compliance with him as the route."
Kael's eyes went darker. "Then we run."
Orin didn't look up from the sigil. "Run where. The owner channel is inside you."
Juno whispered, "Can you stall it."
Astra's mind raced. She had one minute of dead-sand buffering earlier. She could write again—but trace was already near lethal. Another spike and the system might audit-lock her.
Kael's voice went low and fierce. "Astra. Don't write yourself into a cage."
Astra almost laughed. "We're already in one."
Lyra's voice came soft, amused. "Let him transfer. See what he does with it."
Kael's head snapped toward Lyra, lethal. "Shut up."
Lyra's smile sharpened. "Make me."
Astra's jealousy flared hot and ugly—and she used it, because she needed anger more than fear.
"Lyra," Astra said, cold, "if you want to be useful—be a sink."
Lyra's brows lifted. "Excuse me."
Astra's gaze pinned her. "Your old Guild ink can carry signal. You stepped into black water and drowned it temporarily. Do it again—on purpose. Take the request into you."
Lyra's smile thinned. "You want me to hold Dorian's hand."
Astra's mouth curved razor-thin. "I want you to keep his hand off my throat."
Kael's grip at Astra's waist tightened, protective anger flaring.
Lyra saw it and smiled like she liked being wanted and hated at the same time.
"Consent?" Lyra asked, too sweet.
Astra's eyes narrowed. "Don't get cute."
Lyra's smile didn't move. "I'll do it. But you owe me."
Astra didn't promise. Promises were a currency Dorian could counterfeit.
She just said, "Now."
Lyra stepped closer, lifted her chin, and exposed her throat like an offering.
Astra's stomach tightened.
Kael's voice went low, warning. "Astra—"
Astra didn't touch her collar. Didn't touch the seal. She lifted two fingers and pressed them to the side of Lyra's neck, just below the jaw where a hidden mark had shimmered before.
Lyra's breath hitched.
The contact was intimate in the ugliest way—a bargain written in skin.
Astra made it explicit anyway, because if she didn't, the system would pretend it had permission.
"Lyra," Astra murmured, "do you consent to me routing a hostile channel into your mark for thirty seconds."
Lyra's eyes glittered. "Yes."
Kael's jaw clenched, furious, jealous, restrained.
Astra ignored him—not because she didn't care, but because she couldn't afford to soothe him while Dorian held a transfer request like a knife.
She opened Write(Other) limited—target: Lyra—careful, surgical.
Pain pricked behind Astra's eyes. Trace buzzed.
She wrote one line:
ROUTE: OWNER CHANNEL REQUEST → LYRA SABLE (MARK BUFFER) — 30s
Lyra shuddered as if cold fingers slid under her skin.
Her smile trembled, then steadied into something sharp. "Oh," she whispered. "That's… filthy."
Astra's vision flashed.
TRANSFER REQUEST: TEMP ROUTED (30s)STATUS: RESPONSE DELAYED
Thirty seconds.
A hinge.
Astra exhaled hard, shaking.
Kael's hand tightened at her waist, grounding her. "Breathe."
Astra breathed.
Then she met Kael's eyes.
His were dark, furious, afraid. Not of death.
Of what the system was turning them into.
Astra leaned closer, voice low and intimate, heat braided with strategy like it always was with them now.
"Kael," Astra whispered, "if Dorian gets handler transfer, he can push your crest through me."
Kael's jaw flexed. "Then he doesn't get it."
Astra swallowed. "I need you with me on what comes next."
Kael's gaze sharpened. "Say it."
Astra's throat burned. "We may have to use the handler role—ours—to block his claim."
Kael's eyes went cold. "You already used it."
Astra didn't flinch. "And I hated it."
Kael's breath hitched. "Then don't become it."
Astra leaned in closer, close enough that her breath warmed the corner of his mouth, close enough that it would have been easy to cross the line into comfort and forget the Empire.
She didn't.
She made a vow instead.
"I won't own you," Astra whispered. "Not ever. If I start sounding like him—if I start enjoying the button—"
Kael's voice came rough. "I stop you."
Astra nodded. "Yes. By voice. By name."
Kael's eyes held hers like a blade held steady. "Astra."
The way he said her name—grounded, chosen—sent heat through her body like a dangerous drug.
Lyra, shivering, watched them with bright irritation. "You're going to kiss or you're going to kill. Decide."
Kael snapped, "Quiet."
Lyra smiled, but her breath was unsteady now, her skin slightly pale. Holding the routed request wasn't free.
Astra's interface flickered again.
MARK BUFFER: 18s REMAININGNOTE: BUFFER STRAIN HIGH
Astra turned inward, mind racing. Thirty seconds wasn't enough to "solve" Dorian. But it was enough to choose the best lie.
She couldn't deny the transfer outright while threat conditions were active. The system might default-accept under "safety."
She couldn't accept it. That would hand Dorian the leash.
So she needed a third path: conditional acceptance that can't resolve.
A deadlock clause.
Astra looked at Kael. "Consent," she whispered, "to me binding handler transfer to your confirmation."
Kael didn't hesitate this time. "Yes."
Astra swallowed and opened Write(Other) limited—target: Kael—again. Pain sparked. Trace buzzed hotter.
She carved the line like a lock:
HANDLER TRANSFER REQUIRES: CUSTODIAN VERBAL CONFIRMATION (IN PERSON) + MATCHING PHRASE ("BLACK WATER")
Kael's eyes narrowed. "We said that phrase is compromised."
Astra's mouth tightened. "Compromised in channels. Not in person. Not in dead sand."
Kael's jaw clenched, then nodded. "Fine."
Astra's interface updated.
TRANSFER CONDITIONS UPDATEDSTATUS: CUSTODIAN CONFIRMATION REQUIRED
Astra exhaled hard.
Lyra's breath hitched—she swayed slightly.
"Astra," Lyra whispered, voice tight, "get it out of me."
Astra's vision flashed.
MARK BUFFER: 03s
Dorian's voice slid warm and amused. "You think you can make my claim wait for a Hound's permission."
Astra's stomach turned. "I can make it stall."
Dorian chuckled. "Then I'll simply bring the Hound to me."
The buffer ended.
Lyra gasped, stumbling back into a crate. Her eyes went bright with pain.
Astra's interface snapped.
TRANSFER REQUEST: RESUMEDSTATUS: PENDING — CUSTODIAN CONFIRMATION REQUIREDNOTE: CUSTODIAN LOCATION TRACE AVAILABLE
Astra froze.
"Location trace," she whispered.
Orin's head snapped up. "What."
Astra's throat burned under cloth. "Dorian can trace Kael as 'custodian' for confirmation."
Kael's jaw clenched. "He's going to come."
Lyra laughed weakly, still pale. "He's already here. He's just wearing paperwork."
Juno swore. "We need to move. Now."
Orin shoved the last stroke of black paste into the floor sigil. The crate wall beside them shuddered and slid aside—an old service seam into a lower corridor.
"Go," Orin hissed. "Before they triangulate."
Astra pushed forward, but her legs trembled from pain debt and trace buzz.
Kael caught her—waist and forearm—steadying her without touching her throat.
Astra didn't pull away.
Not now.
They slipped into the seam and the storage maze closed behind them like a mouth.
For a few heartbeats, there was only damp stone and their breathing.
Then Astra's interface flickered again—cleaner now, crueler.
HOUSE VEYRN CLAIM: TRANSFER HANDLER ROLESTATUS: ESCALATINGMETHOD: CUSTODIAN CONFIRMATION — FORCED SUMMON PATHWARNING: FAILURE MAY RESULT IN DEFAULT ACCEPTANCE UNDER "SAFETY"COUNTDOWN: 00:00:10
Kael's breath went sharp. "Ten seconds?"
Astra's throat burned. "He's forcing it."
Kael's eyes went dark. "Then we break the path."
Astra swallowed hard, heat and terror twisting together.
"How," Astra whispered.
Kael leaned close, voice rough, intimate, and lethal. "You give the confirmation to the only person you trust."
Astra blinked. "What."
Kael's gaze held hers. "Me. In person. Right now. Before he can drag it into his channel."
Astra's pulse kicked.
Because "confirmation" meant phrase. Meant voice. Meant a ritual the system would record.
And once recorded, it could be replayed.
Astra's interface ticked down.
00:00:08…00:00:07…
Kael's voice dropped, urgent. "Astra. Decide."
Astra's throat went tight.
She could refuse and gamble on dead sand.
Or she could confirm to Kael—now—under their rules, in person, to lock out Dorian's forced summon path.
Astra met Kael's eyes and felt the heat between them sharpen into something like a vow.
00:00:05…
Astra inhaled once.
Then she whispered the phrase, close enough that only Kael could hear it.
"Black water."
Kael answered instantly, rough and steady.
"Black water."
And the countdown hit 00:00:03—just as the system accepted their in-person confirmation and opened a new prompt in Astra's vision, colder than anything yet:
TRANSFER PATH LOCKED TO CUSTODIAN CONFIRMATION — FINALIZE?