Two changes to who may start a flow here, and where a refusal is delivered.
A host reached at its own hostname sits on a different registrable domain from
this issuer, deliberately: that is what stops a cookie set there from ever
reaching this one. The default rule allows a redirect back to whatever hostname
the request arrived on, so it refused exactly the case the separation created.
Which is a real problem rather than a theoretical one, because a session cookie
without a Domain attribute is host-only, so a browser arriving at one of those
hostnames for the first time carries no cookie whether or not it is signed in,
and sending it here to sign in again changes nothing.
So a client id that is a single hostname under that zone, whose redirect_uri is
https and that same hostname at one reserved path, is allowed. Making the
client id the hostname is the load-bearing part: a token's audience is its
client id, so the session that comes back is bound to the host it will live on
and is not a credential anywhere else.
Separately, and worth its own paragraph: a refused client's redirect_uri was
still used to report the refusal. The check that approves that URI is the one
that just failed, so /authorize was an open redirector to anywhere at all --
no sign-in required, on the hostname people are asked to type a password into.
It is now a page here. Before:
GET /authorize?client_id=web&redirect_uri=https://somewhere.example/callback
-> 302 https://somewhere.example/callback?error=unauthorized_client
The helper told you to use "an isolated database for tests", which reads
as a database of its own and is not what the suite wants. Route tests
reach the database through the app and core tests reach it directly, so
two different values put the fixtures in one database and the assertions
in the other — around forty failures, none of them in the code that
caused it, and nothing in the output naming the setting.
Also drops a type import nothing uses.
The issuer kept everything behind one get/set/remove/scan interface, which
is what a library that must run on any provider's cache can offer. Three of
the things kept there could not actually be served by it.
An authorization code must be redeemable once and a refresh token spendable
once, and through get and set the check and the write are separate steps —
so two requests arriving together both read an unspent record, and both mint
a session. In the refresh case that also means the reuse which reveals a
stolen token is never recorded, because recording it is the write that the
second caller overwrites. Each now has a table and an interface of its own:
redeeming is one `delete ... returning`, spending is one
`update ... where time_used is null returning *`, so exactly one caller is
ever told it went first. This is the same argument the device grant already
made, applied to the two records that had it too.
Signing keys move for a different reason. Nothing races for them; they are
the one record whose loss ends every session at once, and a cache is a place
things may be evicted from. They are retired by setting a column rather than
deleted, so the tokens they signed stay verifiable until they expire.
Both credential tables store a hash and never the credential, as the device
grant does. An authorization code travels in a query string and so passes
through history, referrer headers and any log along the redirect; a refresh
token resumes a session outright.
What is left in the generic store is the rate-limit counters — written far
more often than read, meaningless within the hour, and allowed to be
approximate, since a lost increment costs one guess out of ten. Those move
to Postgres too, so the only key-value binding this deploys with is gone and
the control plane's state is one database. That was the point: nothing here
now depends on a primitive a self-hoster cannot run.
The generic scan also gained the separator on its prefix, so scanning `a`
cannot return what is under `ab` — subjects and email addresses are both
prefixes of longer subjects and email addresses.
Deploying this signs everyone out. The signing keys and refresh tokens are
in a store that is being left behind, so the issuer starts with a fresh key
set and every existing token stops verifying.
A user code is eight characters from a twenty-five character alphabet,
which is a large space but a fixed one, and the endpoint that checked
them had no opinion about how often you asked. That is the guessing
attack RFC 8628 section 5.2 asks implementations to limit, and nothing
here did.
Wrong codes are now counted per caller address over a rolling window,
and the endpoint stops answering once the budget is gone. Getting a code
right is not charged for, so somebody who mistypes once and then succeeds
is not walking towards a lockout. A caller whose address cannot be
established shares one bucket with every other such caller, which makes
stripping the headers that say where you are buy a smaller budget rather
than an unlimited one.
The counter lives in the general-purpose store and is approximate. The
number that decides this is whether somebody is working through the code
space, and a handful either way does not change that answer.
Anybody could ask for a device code and be handed a link with the user
code already in it. Following that link started a sign-in, and finishing
the sign-in approved the grant. So sending somebody the link was enough:
they saw an ordinary sign-in prompt, completed it, and whoever kept the
device code polled and collected their access and refresh tokens. The
victim never saw a question, because there was not one.
There is now. Signing in says who the browser belongs to; it does not say
the person meant to hand an account to a program somewhere else. Those
are two questions and only the second authorizes anything, so the flow
ends at a page that names the program, shows the code back so it can be
compared with what the device is displaying, and offers Approve and Deny.
Approving is a POST carrying a value from the cookie, so another site
cannot submit it on somebody's behalf. Denial moved onto the same page:
it used to be a GET anyone could fire, which meant a link scanner could
cancel a real sign-in and a stranger with a user code could grief one.
Three more things that were wrong underneath.
The grant was read, modified and written back as a whole record. A poll
that read a pending grant and then wrote its bookkeeping erased an
approval that landed in between, and the client polled a dead grant until
it expired. Grants moved to a table, where approving is one conditional
update and redeeming is one delete that returns what it deleted, so
neither party can undo the other and two polls cannot both be served.
Tokens were minted when the person clicked and left sitting in storage
until collected. They are minted at redemption now, so the lifetime the
client is told about starts when it receives them, and a grant nobody
collects leaves no usable refresh token behind.
The client identifier was never checked, at either end. It is validated
when the grant is created and has to match when the code is redeemed —
without that, a leaked code is redeemable by anyone, and the identifier
the token carries is whatever the last caller claimed. The device code
is also stored as a hash now, since it is the credential the tokens are
handed to.
The store is an interface because the issuer cannot reach the database,
and because the guarantees are the point: every method is one operation,
and no caller reads a grant, decides, and writes it back.
A program with no browser — the desktop app — had a client for RFC 8628 and
nothing to point it at. This serves the other half: a device authorization
request that hands back a code, a page a person enters that code on, and a
token endpoint that answers the poll.
Both of the paths the client already implements are now reachable. Polling
faster than the advertised interval gets slow_down, and each warning widens
the interval so ignoring one costs more than the last; refusing gets
access_denied, so a request nobody started stops instead of being polled until
it ages out. The interval is capped, because it only ever grows and a code has
to stay pollable for the whole of its life.
The codes live in the same storage as the other short-lived grants rather than
in a table, since that is what they are. User codes are drawn from an alphabet
with no vowels and no look-alike pairs, and are accepted back in whatever case
and spacing a person retyped them in.