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"The symbols." He points toward small marks along the lines. "Anchors. Transfer points. Fail-safes."

Several stones have been circled in faded red ink. One on the eastern perimeter. The same position as the flickering ward. Another beneath the western tower. My pulse quickens. A thin line connects them. Not directly. Both lead toward the central unlabelled symbol. Beside the eastern mark, someone has written: FIRST SILENCE — FOUR BREATHS. Near the western corridor: SECOND RESPONSE — NINE BREATHS. I stop breathing. Rhyven reads the note again.

"So it happened before." He says.

"When?" I ask.

"No date." He examines the lower edge. "The catalogue number's been scratched away."

"Why hide the map inside the book?"

"Because someone didn't want it catalogued."

"Or wanted it found by the right person."

Rhyven gives me a flat look. "That sounds like something Soren would say."

I nod. "It could be true."

He raises an eyebrow. "It could also be dramatic bullshit."

A final note appears near the central mark. The ink is so faint I nearly miss it. I angle the map beneath the lantern. Rhyven leans closer. His shoulder nearly touches mine across the corner of the table.

Together, we read: WHEN ONE FALLS SILENT, LISTEN BELOW. Cold moves across my skin.

Rhyven sits back first. "That's not reassuring."

A bell chimes softly through the library. Not an Academy bell. A closing warning. The remaining students begin gathering their things.

One librarian appears at the far end of the bridge. "Restricted sections are now sealed." Her voice travels effortlessly. "All materials must be returned."

Rhyven looks at my stack. Then at me. "She did this." I stare. "Coward."

His mouth twitches. "Survival instinct."

The librarian reaches our table. Her gaze settles on the number of books. Then on Rhyven. "Officer Corvell."

"Librarian Elsin." He answers.

"You are aware that upper western records require authorization."

He nods. "I'm aware of many things."

The librarian does not look impressed. "Authorization does not appear to be one of them."

Rhyven stands. "I found the book downstairs."

I blink. He lies with impressive calm. The librarian looks toward me. I consider loyalty. Then truth. Then the fact that Rhyven brought me a restricted historical record after breaking into a sealed archive.

"He placed it on my table," I say.

Rhyven turns toward me slowly. The librarian nods.

"Then you may both return every volume." She says. "Every volume?" I ask.

"Every volume."

She walks away. Rhyven watches her leave.