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“To evidence someone wants us to find.”

Kesta looked at the human fabric. “That does not make the person leaving it unreal.”

“No. It makes the route dangerous.”

He did not suggest turning back. The second half of the journey forced Dreven to practice the authority he had nearly misused at the council table.

Olan recommended a narrow ridge route that saved an hour but exposed the group to electrical storms. Jessa argued for the longer basin trail because Hallow children, if escaping on foot, would have chosen water access over speed. Dreven listened to both and asked Kesta what the human fabric suggested.

“Dragged across rough stone on the eastern side,” she said. “Basin trail.”

He chose the basin without claiming the choice as his own. They found three more signs there: a ration wrapper folded into an arrow, a strip of yellow Hallow thread knotted around thorn crystal, and a shallow depression where someone small had slept beneath an emergency blanket. Jessa knelt beside the depression. Her hands shook once before she made them still.

“My cousin Fen ties knots backward,” she said. “He says forward knots look like closed eyes.”

The yellow thread held a backward knot. The expedition’s purpose changed. It was no longer following abstract evidence. A child had survived long enough to leave a trail. Dreven assigned Jessa to interpret the signs. He did not replace her when grief slowed her breathing. He gave her water and waited. Kesta noticed Keth noticing. During the next halt, Keth joined her beside a fractured pylon. “He would once have ordered her to the rear.”

“Because she is compromised?”

“Because he would believe removing her pain improved the mission.”

“And now?”

“Now he is discovering pain may carry information.”

Kesta scanned the pylon. A faint transmission residue matched the drone core. “Do you trust him?”

“With my life.”

“That was not the question.”

Keth looked toward Dreven. “I trust him to fight the enemy in front of him. I am learning whether he can recognize the enemy inside an instinct he calls protection.” The answer belonged to Kesta too.

They reached a collapsed service station before the ruins. Inside, Sera found two imperial injector caps and one handprint in dried blood. The print was human, too small to be Elara’s according to the transport biometric file.

“Nara?” Jessa asked.

“Possibly.” Kesta swabbed the print. “Or another woman the cache did not list.”

A sound moved beneath the station floor. Dreven raised one hand. The group froze. Olan tasted the air. “Mechanical. Below us.” They uncovered a maintenance shaft containing a dead microdrone no larger than Kesta’s palm. Its casing carried powdered mineral from Ash Camp’s southern ventilation system. Keth’s expression darkened. “One of Tavi’s three routes.”

“Imperial microdelivery,” Kesta said.

“Or planted evidence to make us stop searching for an insider,” Jessa replied.

Dreven looked at her with approval. “We keep all routes open.” Inside the microdrone they found a partial map of Ash Camp’s condenser pipes and a schedule copied from a council maintenance slate.

That information could not have come from the ventilation shaft alone. Someone had provided it, which meant the sabotage crossed the boundary between external attack and internal access. Kesta sealed the drone in an evidence pouch. “When we return, no public accusations. Whoever supplied this may still believe we do not know.” Dreven’s first instinct showed in his eyes: lock the gates, search every room, question everyone. He exhaled it instead of acting on it. “We give Tavi the map and let Pela control access records.” Keth nodded. “Shared authority.”

“Do not sound pleased.”

“I am trying to make the expression unfamiliar enough that you remember it.”

Even Jessa smiled. By late afternoon the outer ruins rose from the valley floor. They were not buildings in any recognizable sense. Massive curved structures emerged from the stone like the ribs of a buried creature. Their surfaces absorbed light. Doorways opened where no seams had been visible moments before. Olan stopped fifty paces away. “The ground is awake.” Kesta felt it through her boots: a slow vibration, too regular to be geological. Her band warmed. Dreven noticed. “Pain?”

“No.”

“Signal?”