---
Akayoroi let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh. "Then teach me the other thing," she said. "The thread. I felt you tug the house without feet. It was like hearing a voice through a wall I agreed to thin."
"The sovereign thread," he said. "A net that lives in the marks I have set. It carries words, not thoughts. I push a lane open, I name who may speak, and the sounds arrive where I tell them. It costs aura to hold too many lines or to listen to everyone at once. So I will not leave it open all day. But for battle, or for a quiet order, it is better than a shout."
Luna's eyebrows rose. "Better than Flint's whistle."
"Flint's whistle is for making hawks jealous," Kai said, and the smallest smile crept across Luna's face.
"May we hear it now," Akayoroi asked, "and see where it settles in our heads."
"Consent," he said, to make the rule a habit even here. "I will open a small triangle. Only us. It will last for a minute, then close."
They nodded.
