Page 45

I smile. "Goodnight."

She walks toward the western passage. Halfway there, she turns.

"Don't be late." She continues walking.

I wait until she disappears then return upstairs.

Sleep does not come. I lie beneath unfamiliar blankets listening to the Academy settle around me. Footsteps pass through the corridor. A door closes. Wind presses softly against the glass. Far beyond the residence towers, something large moves through the night sky. Dragon wings. Slow. Powerful. Then gone. Across the room, Rowan turns for perhaps the twentieth time.

"Are you awake?" She whispers loudly.

"No," Selena answers.

Rowan ignores her. "What do you think they mean by qualities required to remain?"

No one replies immediately. Aricia's voice comes from the darkness. "Perhaps they want to know what we do when we believe no one is watching."

That thought is worse than cliffs.

Rowan is quiet for several seconds. "I would prefer drowning."

I snort.

"Go to sleep," Selena says.

"I'm trying." Rowan complains.

"Try silently."

The room grows quiet again. I close my eyes.

My dreams are filled with doors. Six of them. Crimson. Silver. Gold. Blue. White. Black edged in fire. Professor Neris stands behind me, asking which one belongs to me. I choose crimson.

It opens onto another door. And another. And another. Each one leads deeper. None leads out. When I wake, the room is still dark. The first bell has not rung. For a moment, I think the Trial has entered my dreams and decided to begin without permission.

Then someone pounds on the residence door. Three times. Every student in the tower wakes at once. A voice carries through the corridor.

"First-years." Silence follows. "Eastern Courtyard in thirty minutes."

The footsteps move onward. Another door. Three more knocks.

Rowan sits upright. "This is barbaric."

Selena is already dressed. Aricia lights the nearest lamp. I throw back my blankets.

Outside, the Academy remains hidden beneath the last hour of night. No sunrise. No ordinary bells. Only first-years moving quietly through the towers while older students sleep—or pretend to.

I fasten the black cloth over the number on my wrist. It seals itself the moment the ends touch. The bracelet beneath it pulses once. Acknowledgment. My stomach tightens. Not fear. Not entirely. Expectation.

The corridors fill. No one laughs this morning. No one complains loudly enough for professors to hear. We descend together. Rowan. Selena. Aricia. Me. At the central hall, streams of first-years emerge from every residence wing. Vampires. Fae. Wolves. Sirens. Medusae. Dragon-blooded. All wearing identical black bands. All carrying the same limited supplies. All pretending not to study one another.

Nyra waits beneath the eastern archway. Her shoulders relax when she sees me. Mine do too. We say nothing. There is nothing useful left to say.

Together, we follow the others outside. The Eastern Courtyard is illuminated by hundreds of low blue flames. Professors stand around its perimeter. Silent. Watchful.

The Headmaster waits on the raised steps beneath the Academy crest. Behind him stand six figures dressed in black uniforms marked with silver wings.

The Chief Wings Officers. Not speaking. Not smiling. Observing. Caelen is among them. His gaze finds me almost immediately. He gives no wave. No reassuring smile. Only one small nod. Sister to brother. Student to officer. You're ready. Whether or not I believe it. The courtyard gates remain closed.