The night after the assault passed quiet. No new claws tested the seam. The violet light inside the gate stayed dim, pulsing once every few minutes like something large and patient drawing slow breath.
Jor's wound held under fresh bandages. The two healthy road-watch took shifts without complaint, spears close, eyes on the stone.
Mara kept her own spear within reach and said almost nothing. She cleaned the binding rods one by one, checked the lines of salt and iron filings, and only spoke when she needed something passed.
Aiden and Selene did not sleep much. They sat with their backs to the ridge wall, cloaks shared against the chill, watching the gate the way men watch a sleeping animal that might wake hungry.
The air carried the usual mountain damp and the faint metallic tang that always hung near the seam.
Near midnight Selene stood and walked closer. Aiden followed without being asked.
