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“Tell me you put the key in the bag,” Maisie said.

“I put the key in the bag.”

“Please tell me they’re labeled.”

“They’re color-coded.”

“Oh, thank the Great Goddess.”

“In Dragon runes.”

“I take it back.”

“Red bronze key,” Guy said. “Three hooked runes. Maisie activates it. Not Knox. His Magic does not touch more Ward architecture tonight.”

“Activating isolation will kill this communication,” Bernie said. “No tether. No immediate backup. Guy’s main Ward grid will not reinforce the cabin. Once the emergency Wards stabilize, I should be able to reopen a narrow channel through the satchel without reconnecting you to the main grid.”

“But the Hellmark loses the big, juicy path into Guy’s Magic,” Maisie said.

“Essentially,” Carrick said.

“Do it,” Maisie and I said together.

For half a heartbeat, I hated how good that sounded. Not because it was safe. It wasn’t. Because neither of us was offering to become a martyr. We had both weighed the ugly choice and taken the same step forward.

The first creature hit the window.

Glass bowed inward but did not break. Bronze light flared over it in a web of old runes. Maisie dug through the satchel, muttering things about runes, dead languages, and every Dragon who had ever contributed to poor user-interface design.

I kept my sword between her and the room, not between her and the work. That difference felt like pulling teeth from my own jaw.

“Three hooked runes,” Guy said. “Set the key into the plate beside the hearth. Turn once left, twice right. Do not add Magic. The key holds the charge.”

Maisie dropped to one knee by the hearth. “If this cabin explodes, I would like it noted that I followed directions under protest.”

The second creature slammed into the rear wall. Old timber groaned. The third struck the door hard enough to drive iron dust from the hinges.

I did not burn them. I did not call Sully’s Dragon Fire. I stood in the center of that small room with a sword in my hand, a Hellmark screaming on my arm, and the woman my Dragon had named my Mate at my back because she had chosen to be there.

The key turned.

Left.

Right.

Right.

CLUNK!

Every bronze Ward light in the cabin went dark. Bernie’s tether vanished. For one terrible heartbeat, silence owned the room.

Then the emergency Wards ignited.

Smaller. Older. Thin blue and white lines instead of Guy’s strong bronze blaze. But holding.

Outside, the creatures lost their rhythm.

One crashed into another near the window. The thing at the rear wall struck empty timber three feet from where it had been moments before. The one at the door circled once, twice, confused enough to make the Hellmark pulse with irritation.