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"Then fucking try."

His anger flashes.

I am.

Nothing. I lean lower.

"Faster."

Rhyven—

"FASTER." The command tears out of me. Vyrael surges. Cold air burns my lungs. Trees blur beneath us. Mountains become shadows. My hands hurt from gripping the harness. I don't loosen them.

She's fine.

She's fine.

She's fine.

The phrase is useless. I don't believe words without evidence. Never have. Need evidence.

Need her.

I try mind-speak. Not the bond. Her. The strange connection we've used before. Eirea. Nothing. Again. Eirea. Nothing. My stomach turns.

No. She could be asleep. No. Not with a disappearance. Shielded. Maybe. Wards interfering. Possible. Distance. Still possible. Blood Echo. Maybe manifestation use blocks something. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. I hate maybe.

"How long?"

An hour .

"No."

At current speed—

"No."

I cannot alter geography .

"Try." Vyrael's fury returns. Good. I prefer it to fear.

We stop once. Barely. Water. Vyrael refuses to continue until I drink. I hate him. Drink anyway. Thirty seconds. Then air again.

The closer we get, the worse the silence becomes.

It should strengthen. That's what scares me. Distance should be disappearing. She should be something. Anything. I reach. Nothing. Eirea. Nothing.

My breathing changes. I force it back. In. Out. Again.

Control. Useful. Panic isn't.

Think. First-year disappeared last night. Academy containment activated. Second-years command. Mara has Sky. First-Year Response has Eirea. Professors remain. Council remains. Ward specialists remain. Dragons remain. The Academy is defended.

Except— the Chiefs don't. Third-years don't. Fourth-years don't. Senior Riders don't. We're gone.

Exactly what I warned them about. I told Eirea. Moving your strongest defense because the enemy changes location is exactly what I would want if I were attacking. We knew. The Council knew. That's why they refused Elarion twice. Then multi-kingdom activity forced deployment.

My chest goes cold.