Vasilisa Voronova wanted a seat at the Thieves' High Table. To get one, she had to pull a job big enough to make them ask her name. But the Table wouldn't even open its door to her. She ran Bellstorm's Black Market, and no thief who mattered had ever worked beside her. She needed one of them to vouch for her. None would. She spread six muted gemstones across her counter and dropped her clockwork loupe over one eye. Through the lens, each stone showed its history, not just its cut. She saw the truth. These stones came from a Guild vault three years back. Their provenance papers said otherwise. Forged. She even knew the forger's hand. That knowledge was worth something, if she could turn it into a name at the Table. Cho Cogsmith came through the door without knocking. Her oldest friend, and the only man who'd tell her a plan was stupid to her face. He carried a broken clockwork gadget he'd been asking about all week. "You look like you're about to do something," he said. "I am." She slid a stone toward him. "These forgeries came from someone the High Table protects. If I prove it, I hand them a problem they can't ignore." "Or you hand them a reason to bury you." Cho set his gadget down. "They don't vouch for strangers. You know this." "Then I stop being a stranger." She needed a witness the Table trusted. She thought of Jack Dredge. He ran an ink parlor near the docks and collected forgotten things. Sailors, secrets, old debts. He had sat at that Table once. He owed no one, and he lied to no one. Vasilisa took the stones to him that night. Jack stood behind his counter, arms crossed, tattoos climbing both forearms. He listened without moving. "You want me to speak for you," he said. Not a question. "I want you to look." She handed him the loupe. Jack held one stone to the light. His jaw shifted. He recognized the forger's work too. He set the stone down like it burned. "This man launders for half the Table," Jack said. "Show them these, you don't earn a seat. You start a fire." "Then vouch that I lit it on purpose." Jack studied her for a long moment. "You don't want their door open. You want their throat." He almost smiled. "I'll speak for you. Once. At the next Table." Her chest loosened. She had her witness. She had her audience. Then Jack added the price. "But the forger will hear before you finish. He'll know you moved first." Vasilisa understood. The man who faked these papers had put people in corners before. She had wondered if he knew she was onto him. Now he would. Jack's word bought her the Table. It also lit the fuse. She took back the stones. The door to the High Table was open at last. So was the door behind her.