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I stare. What the fuck does that mean?

"You don't get to do that."

His expression tightens. "Do what."

"Turn ignorance into protection." No answer. "My father does it too." Still nothing. "You all keep deciding what we can survive knowing while sending us to survive everything else." There. That one hits. Good.

The Headmaster looks back toward the ruined Academy. For once, he doesn't tell me I'm wrong.

Footsteps behind me. I don't turn. Don't need to.

Something inside me recognizes him before I see him. Faint now. Exhausted. But there. Rhyven.

He stops beside me. No touching. No question. Just there. The Headmaster's eyes move toward him.

Something old and tired passes through his face.

"She deserves an answer." Rhyven finally says.

The Headmaster looks at him. "So do you."

Rhyven's jaw tightens. "Then give us one."

"Not yet."

Rhyven laughs once. Cold. "You're running out of people willing to accept that."

The Headmaster says nothing. Then walks away. I watch him cross the courtyard. Anger burns through exhaustion. Good. At least I can still feel something.

Rhyven stands beside me. His repaired shoulder strapped. Split lip darker now. Clean blood replaced by new bandages. He looks almost human again.

I look toward Theryn.

Eddy.

The bodies.

The board.

"They knew." I say.

Rhyven doesn't ask who. "Some of it."

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Don't know."

"Enough."

"Yes."

We stand quietly. Not peaceful. Never that.

For months, we thought the Hollowborn were coming for Varethia. They took people. Drained magic. Tested wards. Learned our patrols. Learned our defenses. Learned dragons. Learned us.

Then they moved. Elarion. Tiravell. Enough to make the kingdoms panic. Enough to make Varethia finally send away its strongest defenders. Enough to leave our walls weaker than they had been in months.