The ceramic blade tore free of the rafter sigil and streaked toward the rear curtain, slipping beneath the anti-metal wards.
No alarm thread so much as twitched, and five-year-old Lisbet lay still beyond that curtain, asleep under her suspension seal. The seal kept her broken ribs from her heart, and one shock was all it would take to change that.
Vella's fingers clamped his sleeve above the wrist before Hajin could even lift his cracked chain.
"No expanding shield," she hissed, eyes locked on the child's still chest, "three ribs from the roof beam, the seal holds their splinters clear, and one shock drives them inward."
"Shit, shit, okay, no shield."
He let the chain fall before a single link could cross the blade's path.
He threw himself into the gap between the cots, both hands snapping up to meet the ceramic.
