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I laugh. "You'll want evidence before presenting it." She snorts. "Oh, I have evidence." She begins counting on her fingers. "Weekly essays. Reading assignments. Surprise oral questions. The impossible handwriting. The fact that he somehow always knows who didn't finish the reading."

"I'll admit..." I say as we step into the corridor. "The handwriting is suspicious."

She beams. "See? You understand."

The hallway outside the lecture rooms buzzes with students moving in every direction. Third-years heading toward advanced combat. First-years comparing notes. Professors weaving effortlessly through the growing crowd. I barely take two steps before something catches my attention. Professor Neris. She stands near one of the tall arched windows overlooking the western courtyard. Hands folded behind her back. Calm. Waiting. Beside her Rhyven. He's already wearing field gear. Dark leather bracers cover his forearms instead of his usual academy sleeves. A weathered satchel rests across one shoulder. His sword hangs comfortably at his side, as though he'd been carrying it for years. Which he probably has. He and Professor Neris are speaking quietly. Or rather Professor Neris is speaking. Rhyven listens. The moment she notices me, the conversation ends. "Miss Vaelith."

I instinctively straighten. "Professor."

She shifts her attention beyond me. "Mr. Solmere." Cassian emerges from another corridor carrying enough books to collapse under their combined weight.

He blinks. "Professor?"

"We're leaving in fifteen minutes."

He looks between Professor Neris, Rhyven then me. "Leaving?"

"Field observation." She answers simply. "Bring practical equipment." Nothing more. No explanation. No opportunity for questions. She inclines her head once. "I'll meet you at the western gate." Then walks away. Rhyven follows without saying a word. The entire exchange lasts less than thirty seconds. Yet somehow it leaves more questions than answers.

Cassian watches Professor Neris disappear around the corner. "Field observation?"

"I know as much as you do." I say.

"Professor Neris usually gives us at least a day's notice." He is right and I hate it.

"Apparently not today."

We stand there another moment before Nyra clears her throat beside me. "Field observation?"

I turn toward her. She isn't suspicious. Not exactly. Mostly curious. "That's what she said."

Nyra glances toward the end of the hallway where Rhyven disappeared. "He looked prepared."

"He did."

"You didn't." She studies me for half a heartbeat longer than usual. Then smiles. "Well I expect you'll tell me all about it later."

A tiny knot forms in my stomach. "I'll try."

"You always do." The words are innocent. Completely harmless. Still, they linger.

Fifteen minutes later, I reach the western gate carrying my field satchel, notebooks and practice dagger. Cassian is already there. He somehow managed to reduce his pile of books to only three. Progress.

Professor Neris stands beside two saddled horses speaking quietly with one of the Academy's ward keepers. Rhyven checks the straps securing another horse's packs. His movements are efficient. Almost automatic. When Professor Neris finishes speaking, the ward keeper inclines his head and departs toward the outer watchtower. Only then does she turn to us. "You all know why advanced field studies exist."

Cassian answers first. "To observe manifestations outside controlled magical environments."

Professor Neris nods. "Partially. Magic behaves differently beyond classrooms." She lets her gaze settle briefly on each of us. "So do people." She gestures toward the waiting horses. "We've received reports from Briar's Hollow." I search my memory. The name sounds familiar.

"A farming village." Cassian says. "Northwestern Varethia."

Professor Neris nods. "The village has experienced repeated irregularities involving one of its ward anchors." The words immediately sharpen my attention. Ward anchors. Not simply wards. The stones that helped carry the protection across all of Varethia.

Rhyven finally speaks. "How many reports?"

"Four." Professor Neris replies. "In six days."

His expression hardens almost imperceptibly. "Escalating?"