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"Go shower."

"Bossy."

I grin. "Frequently."

I distribute every schedule. It takes twenty-three minutes. Rhyven could have done it in twelve. I don't care.

The rest of the day continues. Training. Academics. Ward exercises. Dragon practicals. No disappearances. No alarms. No Hollowborn. The Academy remains convinced that perhaps the danger has passed. I don't. Not anymore. Not because of the Heart. Not exactly. Because five of the most powerful people in Varethia just told us not to ask a question.

And if I've learned anything since arriving here—

questions people don't want asked are usually the ones worth remembering.

That night, Nyra sits on the floor again. Not researching. Technically. She has one of her Academy textbooks open. I lie on my bed. Reading. Or pretending. After ten minutes, she says: "I'm not looking for it."

"Good."

"I'm studying."

"Obviously."

"Completely unrelated material."

"Very responsible."

A page turns. Then— "Eirea." I lower my book. Nyra is looking at me.

"What?" She holds up the textbook. One page. Nothing unusual.

"Nothing."

I stare. "You woke me at two this morning for this."

"No."

She looks down. "I just thought..."

"What?"

Nyra closes the book. "It's strange."

"What is?"

"That something could once be common enough that nobody bothered explaining it." She places the book beside her. "And now nobody will explain it at all."

I don't answer. Because that's exactly it. I look toward the dark window. Varethia beyond it. The village. The walls. The towers. The mountains farther out. Somewhere beneath all of it—or nowhere beneath it at all—exists something people once called a Heart.

Maybe a metaphor. Maybe a place. Maybe nothing.

Father says it has nothing to do with the Hollowborn.

The Headmaster says it's irrelevant. Professor Vayne told us to stop looking. I should believe them. Maybe part of me does. For now.

I close my book. "Write it down."

Nyra looks at me. "What?"

"On the investigation list." Her expression changes.