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"But Professor Neris knows it's stronger." I nod again. "Rhyven knows. Cassian. Caelen." She continues.

"Yes."

She looks at me carefully. "And your father?"

I hesitate. "Some of it. I think." I answer.

"Not all of it." She says.

"No."

She thinks for several seconds. "Good."

I blink. "Good?"

"The fewer people who understand exactly what you can do the harder you are to use."

The words send a chill through me. Use. The same word Rhyven had chosen. Neither of them knows the other said it. Yet somehow they reached the same conclusion. Nyra finally sets the quill down. "I don't think your manifestation is the mystery." She looks around at the pages covering nearly the entire floor. "I think..." She pauses. Searching. "It's part of the key."

My pulse quickens. "The key to what?"

"I don't know. Yet." She smiles apologetically. "I hate unfinished puzzles."

"I've noticed."

"They're rude."

Despite everything I laugh again.

The candle sputters. Its flame shrinks. Outside the window the first hint of dawn begins softening the eastern sky. I blink in surprise. "We've been awake all night."

Nyra follows my gaze. "Again."

I look at her. "You've done this before?"

"I was raised by archivists." She says it so matter-of-factly that I can't help smiling.

We begin stacking books. Gathering loose pages. Neither of us notices how naturally we're working together. No instructions. No discussion. Just understanding. As I reach for the final sheet my eyes stop on the page lying in the center of the floor. The one Nyra started with. One word. Circled three times. Absences. I look toward her. "What?" She doesn't answer immediately. Instead she slowly draws one last line from Absences to Intentional. Then another. Toward Who benefits? She sets the quill down. Looks at the web of names, places and questions spread between us. Then quietly says, "We've been asking the wrong question."

I feel my heartbeat slow. "What question?"

She lifts her eyes to mine. "You've spent weeks asking...What is happening?" A pause. Barely longer than a breath. "But mysteries aren't solved by asking what." Her finger taps the final page. "They're solved by asking who wants this to happen."

The room falls silent. Outside, the first rays of dawn spill across the towers of Varethia. And somewhere beyond the walls, the wards continue humming. Steady. Ancient. Holding. For now.

Chapter Twenty-four

Professor Neris is waiting when we reach the Silent Archive. Saturday morning has barely begun. The Academy above us is still waking slowly, bells carrying faintly through layers of stone while students drift toward breakfast and training fields.

Down here, none of that matters. The iron gate stands open. Every lamp inside the Archive is already lit. Professor Neris waits beside the first table with both hands resting on the back of a chair. She looks as though she has been here for hours. Perhaps she has.

Rhyven arrives first. Of course he does. Caelen follows moments later carrying two empty satchels and enough blank parchment to supply an entire lecture hall. Cassian appears with three books tucked beneath one arm, though no one asked him to bring any. Nyra arrives beside me with her hair still damp from washing and two notebooks pressed against her chest. Professor Neris looks at all five of us. Then toward the shelves behind her. "The Council delegation is expected Monday morning." No greeting. No explanation. Only the deadline.

Cassian exhales quietly. "So we have two days."

"You have less." Professor Neris gestures toward the lamps. "The Archive closes at midnight tonight and reopens at dawn."

Caelen frowns. "Why close it at all?"