Page 439 of The Academy of Blood & Shadow

Rhyven doesn't wait. He starts writing. "Riders log unexplained agitation. Any refusal of established routes. Any sustained attention toward empty space. Any spontaneous protective behavior. Any bond distress without visible cause."

"Students trained in body language report too." Kaelis adds.

Rhyven nods. "Everyone." There. Everything we've been doing with dragons suddenly changes. Not academic. Not survival around large animals. Warning. They might be our earliest warning. I think of Vyrael lowering his head before a storm. The bronze female shifting her weight. The lessons. Eyes. Tail. Wings. Breathing. Direction. Every tiny movement. We thought we were learning to understand dragons so we wouldn't make mistakes around them. Now they may be telling us when the Hollowborn are close. Rhyven looks toward me. I know what he's thinking. Question seventeen. Read the dragon. Not the Rider. I hate that it makes sense.

"How reliable?" My father asks.

"We don't know yet." Kaelis answers.

"False positives?"

"Likely."

"Then this could cause panic."

Rhyven looks toward him. "Better panic than a missing student." Silence. My father doesn't argue. Good.

By noon, the new protocol exists. DRAGON ANOMALY ALERT. Not a full breach alarm. Not evacuation. Observation escalation. If two or more dragons in the same sector display unexplained agitation, ward readings increase. Patrols tighten.

Students move inside. No one travels alone. If paired with magical fluctuation, full response. That could buy minutes. Minutes matter now. Oren proved that.

We test it that afternoon. Training never stops. Professor Kaelis uses dragons to simulate anomaly behavior. Students have to identify which movements are ordinary and which would trigger escalation. It is brutally difficult. A dragon scratches its neck. Nothing. Another repeatedly turns toward the western ridge. Possible. A third spreads one wing because of sunlight. Nothing. A fourth refuses a familiar route twice. Alert. Again. Again. Again.

Rhyven runs the exercise. He is merciless. "Why did you trigger?"

"Tail movement."

"Wrong."

"Head position?"

"Wrong."

"Then—"

"Direction repetition." The student frowns. Rhyven points toward the dragon. "She checked the same empty location six times in forty seconds." Oh. I hadn't counted. Damn.

My turn. A grey dragon paces. Stops. Paces. Head high. Tail loose. No aggression. Breathing elevated. Eyes fixed above us. I look. Nothing there. Good. Possibly. Then I notice her Rider. Calm. No command. The dragon presses her body between him and the northern edge. Protective. "Alert." I say.