Dyapnids have access to the hive mind, which makes them fast, coordinated, and impossible to reason with. The last part is the relevant one. Intelligence implies the theoretical possibility of appeal — of being mistaken for something less edible — but Dyapnids have no such theoretical possibilities. Their mandibles reduce dense bone to fragments in under a minute. Their hive response triggers on movement. Standing still reduces your risk; running confirms your classification as prey. You will hear them before you see them. By the time your brain identifies the chittering as a threat, two seconds will have passed that you are not getting back.

Scerm inhabits The Hinge. This is the detail nobody who has not been to the Ripperthroats will take seriously, until they are at the Ripperthroats, at which point it is too late to find it interesting in a purely academic sense. The Hinge is reached via the River Dun — all denizens of The Dark Peak make this pilgrimage at the end of their lives — and the milting keep order there, not through enforcement but through a particular kind of patience: they have been managing arrivals since before the Illimitable Cleavage and show no sign of finding it tedious.

Path 12 passes through the deep Wisewood interior, which predates both the Registry and the Wardens and has no interest in either. It does not assess visitors — it reads them: constitution, axis exposure, the particular chemistry a person has accumulated since crossing into the district. Standing still is interpreted as residency. Sitting down is processed the same way. The path is the only document the deep Wisewood recognises, and the path recognises you only so long as you keep moving.

Van Hallam has arrived at the Ripperthroats, which is either a great honour or a catastrophic administrative error, and the distinction matters less than you might expect once you are there. All denizens make this journey eventually, along the River Dun, and the milting at the Ripperthroats are not the meek, peripheral creatures they are on the surface. They leave the running of the place to the denizens. They keep an eye on things. Nobody knows what the eye is for. Nobody who has asked has returned to report.