The first thing that changes is the sound.
It is so subtle I almost miss it, buried beneath the familiar drip of water and the low hum of warding that has become the background noise of my existence down here, but once I notice it, I cannot unhear it, a faint, irregular vibration that does not belong to the stone or the iron or the magic woven into the walls. It comes in short pulses, spaced unevenly, like pressure being tested rather than force being applied, and my breath stills as instinct sharpens into certainty.
Someone is moving through the outer structure.
Not a guard.
Not Jack.
The bond tightens in response, a sharp, focused pull that cuts cleaner than it has since the moment I was taken, and my pulse spikes as adrenaline floods my system, burning away the last of the sluggish
