Page 452

Nyra is asleep.I move quietly. Put my weapons away.

Change. Lie down. My body finally feels exhausted enough to cooperate. But before sleep comes, I think about Rhyven. Not his mouth. Not his hands. Not the training mat. Not any of the things I've gotten very good at refusing to think about. I think about a twelve-year-old boy frozen in front of an ancient dragon because he was too scared to move. A second-year who irritated a bad leader until someone finally listened. A Chief who never wanted the title but accepted it because someone had to. A man who spends every day making decisions while everyone around him waits for him to be right. And who, when he doesn't know what to do, moves anyway. Maybe courage isn't what I thought it was either. Maybe courage isn't knowing you're strong enough. Maybe it isn't knowing you're right. Maybe it's simply understanding exactly how much can go wrong and choosing anyway. My eyes close.

Tomorrow, the Hollowborn might move. Elarion might send another report. The Council might change everything. Varethia might need Rhyven to decide something impossible. Tonight, he got to repair a harness. And for once, someone else noticed what he needed before he had to ask.

Chapter Fifty-four

The first report from Tiravell does not mention a missing person. That almost makes it worse. It arrives before breakfast. A single page. No messenger running. No dragon landing hard enough to shake the windows. No alarm. Just a sealed report placed quietly on the Council table.

By seven ten, every Chief has been called downstairs.

By seven twenty, Nyra is standing in our doorway fully dressed. I take one look at her face. "No."

She says nothing. I sit up. "What happened?"

"Tiravell." There it is.

I dress in less than four minutes. No conversation. No jokes. Nothing. By the time we reach the common room, Cassian is already there. Caelen isn't. Rhyven isn't. Nyra holds a copied page in one hand. Not the new report. The old route. Varethia. Elarion. Tiravell. Lyssara. The paper suddenly feels heavier than it should.

"What do we know?" Cassian asks.

Nyra shakes her head. "Not much."

"That sounds promising."

"Forest anomalies."

I stop. "What kind?"

"Silence."

Cassian looks toward her. "What?"

"Entire sections." She glances down at the note someone sent up from Council. "No birds. No prey movement. No insect activity. Nothing."

Cold moves through me. "And magic?" I ask.

"Unstable."

"How unstable?"

"Not enough information." Of course.

By seven forty, we are summoned. Not asked. Summoned. The Council chamber is already full. Maps again. Always maps now. Southern Elarion covered in red marks. Varethia in black. Tiravell, one yellow circle. Just one. For now.

My father stands near the table. The Headmaster beside him. Professor Neris. Vayne. Kaelis. Every Chief. Rhyven's eyes find me when I enter. Then move back to the map.

A Tiravell relay crystal activates. The voice on the other end is male. Low. Controlled. Wolf.

"Report." My father says.

The man answers. "We lost scent first." Silence. That gets everyone's attention.

"What does that mean?" One Council representative asks.

The wolf sounds irritated. "It means what I said."

Fair.