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"They're probable for a reason."

"That's not the same as confirmed."

I look back at the map. The path bothers me. Not because of where it goes. Because of where it doesn't. It avoids major cities. Avoids military roads. Avoids heavily populated regions. It touches smaller villages. Rural settlements. Outer ward districts. Places where strange events could happen without attracting immediate attention. Places like Briar's Hollow. My stomach twists. "Testing."

Nyra's eyes lift. "What?"

"It was testing." The words come slowly. "Whatever moved through these regions...It wasn't trying to destroy anything."

Cassian straightens. "It was learning."

I nod. "Wards. Manifestations. Behavior."

Nyra looks back down at the map. "And responses."

Silence. I feel cold despite the heat of the dining hall. A chair scrapes beside me. Caelen sits. No greeting. Just— "Why do you all look like someone died?"

Cassian points toward Nyra. "She woke me at five." Caelen looks horrified. "Monster." He winces. "Thank you." Nyra says. Caelen reaches for one of the muffins. She slaps his hand away without looking. "Mine."

He stares at her. "You're becoming terrifying."

"Eirea said the same thing."

For one small second...Normal. Then Caelen notices the map. His expression changes immediately. "What is that?" I push it toward him. He studies the dates. Then the path. His jaw tightens. "Who else knows?" He asks.

"Us." I answer.

"Rhyven?"

"Not yet."

Caelen looks toward the Chiefs' table. Rhyven isn't there. Neither is Dax. Soren and Maelis are speaking quietly with two professors over breakfast. "Council meeting." Caelen says. "He's been there since dawn." Something warm pulses inside my chest. Brief. Sharp. Irritation. I look instinctively toward the doors. Caelen notices. "What?"

"Nothing." He narrows his eyes. Wonderful.

By midmorning the investigation moves somewhere unexpected. Botany. Of course it does. Professor Silas has spent the entire lecture explaining root response to magical imbalance. Under normal circumstances, I might have found it mildly interesting. Today Nyra is practically vibrating beside me.

The professor draws a diagram of a tree system across the board. "When environmental magic weakens..." She says. "Plants compensate." Roots expand. Leaves close. Growth patterns change. "Most species respond long before humans recognize magical disruption." Nyra's hand shoots up.

Professor Silas nods. "Miss Valenne."

"Could a temporary disturbance delay flowering without damaging the plant?" Nyra asks.

"Certainly."

"By how long?"

"Depends on species."

"What about silver birch?"

Professor Silas pauses. "Two to three weeks."

Nyra slowly turns toward me. My heart stops. 417. The fae botanist. A grove blooming two weeks late. Oh. Professor Silas notices our expressions. "Something you'd like to share?"

Nyra smiles innocently. "No, Professor." Liar.

Professor Silas watches her for another second. Then continues. Nyra writes one word at the top of her page. BEFORE. I lean closer. "What?"