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Nobody moves. "If you require certainty to function, you are worse." Oh. He points toward the ring.

"Again." We go.

By noon, Tiravell sends another report. The silent area grew. Not much. Half a mile. Still. It's growing.

By fourteen hundred, wolves posted at the boundary report nausea, headache, disorientation. One patrol member walks six steps into the area and forgets why he entered. That sounds familiar too. Too familiar.

By sixteen hundred, the first civilian evacuation begins. No disappearance. Not yet. The whole Academy waits for one anyway. Dax is impossible all afternoon. Sharper. Quieter. He takes over wolf training personally. No jokes. No sarcasm. Students obey. I understand why. Tiravell isn't abstract to him. Home rarely is.

I find him after drills near the east stair. "You okay?"

He looks at me. "No." Honest. Good.

"Family?"

"Not near the affected zone."

"Good."

"Currently." There it is.

"You think it's the same?" I ask.

Dax looks toward the sky. "Yes." No hesitation.

"Why."

"No scent." That's enough for him. I believe him.

At dinner, nobody complains about restrictions.

Interesting. Apparently panic restores discipline quickly. The Place closes early again. Village movement restrictions return. Buddy rules suddenly become popular. Amazing. Cassian sits across from me. "Everyone's serious again."

"Apparently."

"Missed it."

"No, you didn't."

"No."

Nyra barely eats. She's comparing dates. Current Varethia. Current Elarion. Current Tiravell. Historical route. Not matching exactly.Still matching enough.

"Stop." I say.

She looks up. "What."

"You're going to burn through the paper."

"I need to know."

"What."

"If the timing is compressing." My stomach tightens.

Cassian stops eating.

"Is it?" I ask.