Page 490

I eat. Eggs. Bread. Fruit. Coffee. Nobody steals it. That's disappointing.

At eight forty-two, someone says Elarion received another Hollowborn strike overnight. Not confirmed.

At eight forty-seven, someone says Tiravell has twelve missing. False. At eight fifty-one, someone says Lyssara has closed its borders. Also false. At eight fifty-six, Professor Vayne threatens to remove anyone spreading unverified information from morning instruction. That works.

Academics continue. Of course. Political history. Wonderful. Today we're discussing the Treaty of Isryn. I absorb nothing.

Professor Halven asks me a question. I stare at him.

He waits. I have no idea what he said. "Could you repeat that?" Someone behind me shifts. Halven does. I answer. Correctly. Apparently. He moves on.

Nyra writes something on the corner of my parchment. Still Council. I don't look at her. I write beneath it. I know.

At ten thirty, third-years are still gone. At eleven—still. At eleven twenty, a fourth-year leaves the Council wing. Everyone in the courtyard watches him. He walks straight toward North Residence. No announcement. No expression. Nothing.

At eleven forty-three, Dax appears. He crosses the training grounds. Students stop fighting.

Dax doesn't. "Continue." They do. Barely.

Soren emerges ten minutes later. Then Maelis. Then several third-years. Not talking.

Caelen comes out at twelve eleven. Rhyven beside him. I see them from across the courtyard. I am supposed to be demonstrating a defensive pivot. I continue demonstrating the defensive pivot.

"Again." I tell Lena. She does it. Wrong. "Your foot."

She corrects. "Again."

Caelen and Rhyven cross toward North Residence. Neither looks toward the training field. Maybe intentionally. Good. I don't need them to.

At twelve thirty, training ends. Nobody leaves. We're all waiting. Professor Vayne looks around. "Dismissed means leave." That works eventually.

I find Nyra outside the dining hall. Cassian joins us. No Caelen. No Rhyven. "Anything?"Cassian asks.

"No." Nyra shakes her head. "Nothing."

We go inside. Eat lunch. Or attempt to. The third-years are back now. They're quieter. Not scared. Focused. Some already have papers beside their plates. Lists. Equipment. Assignments. There. I look away. Caelen sits at the far end. Talking to another vampire third-year. Rhyven isn't eating. He's standing beside Mara near the wall. She's holding a page. He points at something. First-Year Response? Sky operations? Temporary command. Whatever it is, he's already preparing. I eat my lunch. All of it. Because if Rhyven asks later, I'm not giving him the satisfaction.

The order is posted at thirteen fourteen. No bell. No announcement. A Council aide walks into the central hall carrying a large parchment. Pins it to the command board. Walks away. For half a second, nobody moves. Then everyone does. I don't. Not immediately. I'm standing halfway down the eastern staircase. Nyra beside me. Cassian behind. Students gather. Voices begin. Someone swears. Someone says:

"No." Another: "When?" Another: "All of them?"

I walk down. Slowly. Not because I'm afraid of the answer. Because I already know it.

The heading is large. ACADEMY SUPPORT DEPLOYMENT ORDER. I read. Following confirmed Hollowborn activity across multiple sovereign territories, the Council of Varethia has authorized the deployment of an Academy support force to reinforce regional defensive operations. Not Elarion specifically. Regional. The deployment is intended to provide experienced response command, inter-Wing combat support, ward stabilization and dragon reconnaissance to territories demonstrating critical defensive vulnerability. I keep reading. Deployment begins in forty-eight hours. There. Personnel.

Chief Wings Officers. All. Third-year combat personnel. All. Third-year specialized response personnel. Fourth-year apprentices. Senior Dragon Blood units. Medical support. Ward specialists.

Names follow. Alphabetical within assignments.

I should look for Caelen. He's my brother. Obviously.

Instead— RHYVEN CORVELL. CHIEF, SKY WING . SENIOR DRAGON RESPONSE / FIELD COMMAND I find him immediately. First. My eyes stop. Just for a second. Then continue. CAELEN VAELITH . CHIEF, DAWN WING. GROUND COMMAND / COMBAT RESPONSE. There. My brother. I hate that I saw Rhyven first. I hate it enough that I read Caelen's name twice. As though that fixes something. It doesn't. Dax. Soren. Lyss. Maelis. Every Chief. Every third-year I recognize. Fourth-years beneath them. Names. Names. Names. People we ate with yesterday.

People who cheated at cards. People who insulted each other in the grass. People who laughed. Forty-eight hours. Nyra stands beside me. She doesn't touch me. Good. Cassian doesn't say anything. Also good. Someone behind us starts crying. Quietly. I don't turn.

"When?" My voice sounds normal.

Caelen answers from behind me. "Two days." I turn.