Simone followed the only lead she had. A dockside merchant had whispered of a meeting place under the city, reached through a narrow stair behind an old well. She climbed down with the pin in her fist. If Voss sat at the high table, his people gathered somewhere. She needed to find them. But she could not tell a friend from a knife in the dark. The stair ended in a stone grotto lit by candles. Flames flickered on wet walls. A shallow pool held their reflections. Three figures sat near the water, hoods down, talking low. Each wore a small iron tree pinned at the collar. The same bleeding tree she carried. Simone pressed to the wall and watched. The tallest leaned forward. "Voss wants the courier silenced before the next table meets," he said. The others nodded. Simone's heart pounded. These were his people. She had found them. But she still did not know their faces, or how to pass among them without dying. A warm voice spoke behind her. "That pin only works if you wear it where they can see." Simone spun. A man leaned against the stone, smiling. Black hair, red eyes. He wore the tree pin too, bright against his dark coat. He had moved without a sound. She reached for her knife. "Don't," he said, still smiling. "Lucian Ashford. I serve the same table you're spying on." He tilted his head at her mask. "New faces always clutch the pin like a prize. The old ones wear it and forget it. That's the first mark they look for." Simone did not lower her hand. "Why tell me?" "Because you walked in blind," Lucian said. "Pin on the left collar means you sit low. Red thread through it means you carry Voss's word. No thread, you're a messenger. They'll test you with the sign." He touched two fingers to his own chest, then opened his palm. "Answer wrong and they cut your throat in that pool." He crossed to the three by the water. Simone watched him flash the sign. One of them flashed it back. They let him sit. He had just shown her the whole language in one motion. Simone slid her pin to her left collar. She copied the gesture twice in the shadow until it felt natural. For the first time, the mark meant something. She could read Voss's people now. She could walk among them. Lucian glanced back at her. His smile never changed. Simone realized she had not asked why a stranger handed her the key so freely. A man who served Voss's table had chosen to help her instead. She did not know if that made him her ally or her next trap. She stepped out of the shadow, pin on her collar, and raised two fingers to her chest.