The ward line pulsed once more, and this time it was no longer subtle.
Ren felt it like a pressure against the skin, a deliberate touch from the other side of the boundary, testing, measuring, learning. Fang's shoulders went rigid beside him, his hand lifting at once as though he could already trace the shape of the thing through the air.
Neither of them spoke. They did not need to.
Behind them, Sylvia made a tiny sound of alarm, while Snow's fur began to bristle. Smoke took one startled step back and then recovered enough to put himself protectively in front of Shadow, who was staring at the wall with the kind of grim focus that did not belong to a child unless he had been taught far too young that danger was real.
Ren looked over his shoulder. "Stay with Paul."
Paul, who had already moved closer, bowed once. "Yes, Master Ren."
