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"They can't take someone if nobody's alone."

I hear those sentences everywhere. In corridors. At lunch. Outside lecture halls. Each one settles uneasily beneath my skin. Not because they're unreasonable.

Because yesterday I thought the same thing. We've made it impossible. I want desperately to still believe that.

Sunday classes have been reduced. Not cancelled.

Of course not. Varethia would apparently continue issuing assignments during the end of the world.

Professor Kaelis spends forty-five minutes reviewing our dragon examinations. Nyra scored ninety-nine. She looks personally offended. "What did you miss?"

I whisper. "Question four."

"What was question four?"

"Tail displacement under crosswind."

I stare. "You missed that?"

"I misread the angle."

Cassian looks over. "I got seventy-eight."

Nyra immediately turns toward him. "Really?"

He smiles. "No." She closes her eyes. "I got seventy-one."

"That's still—"

"Don't."

I hide my laugh. My own exam lands in front of me. 91. Below it: Good contextual reading. Stop assuming ancient dragons are trying to trick you.

I stare at Professor Kaelis. He is already looking at me. I raise one eyebrow. His expression says he stands by the comment. Rhyven absolutely told him something. I know it.

At one nothing. At two nothing. Three. Four. Nothing. The longer the day survives, the stranger everyone becomes. People start smiling again.

Not fully. But enough. The courtyard fills during the afternoon break. Nobody travels alone, but groups stop looking like security formations and start looking like friends again. Someone plays cards near the fountain. Two Riders argue over whose dragon cheated during a landing exercise. I don't ask how a dragon cheats. I am afraid of the answer.

At five, the Council conducts another full accountability. Every student. Present. Every professor. Present. Every staff member. Present. Every wardkeeper on shift. Present. The announcement travels through Varethia faster than anything official ever does. Everyone accounted for.

Relief moves through the Academy like warmth. I feel it too. I hate that I feel it.

Nyra finds me near the eastern courtyard. "It's five twelve."

"I know."

"Nothing."

"I know."

She looks toward the distant wards. "I want this to mean something."

"So do I."

"Maybe the pattern broke."

"Maybe."