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The room goes silent in a way I have never heard before. Not student. Not villager. Staff. Here. Inside.

Her name is Mara Ellin. Twenty-seven. Kitchen assistant. I know the face before I remember the name. Soup. Bread. One of the women who followed Professor Neris into the Archive carrying food because none of us had bothered to eat. My stomach twists. No.

"Where?" Someone asks.

The Headmaster hesitates. "The lower pantry."

Whispers erupt. Professor Aldren raises one hand. Silence returns. "She entered the pantry at approximately eighteen nineteen." My skin goes cold.

"Another kitchen worker entered less than two minutes later." Two minutes. "The room was empty."

A student laughs. Not humor. Disbelief. "How?"

No one answers. The Headmaster continues. "One entrance. No windows. No damage. No evidence of manifestation. No ward disturbance." My pulse pounds. Gone. Inside the Academy. In a room with one door. People ten feet away. Gone. Nyra looks at me. I already know. Saturday. Monday. Wednesday. Friday. Her face tells me she wishes she didn't.

The dining hall empties by Wing. This time no one complains. No one speaks. I find Nyra in the corridor outside. Cassian beside her. Caelen arrives moments later. Rhyven last. No one planned the meeting. We simply end up together. Nyra pulls out her notebook. Her hands shake. Only slightly. She opens to the page. Writes. Jonas Vale — Saturday. Elara Venn — Monday. Lysa Mareth — Wednesday. Her quill stops. No one moves. Then— Mara Ellin — Friday.

Cassian swallows. "Nyra."

She closes her eyes. "Four."

"Four isn't—"

"Four is a pattern." Silence. The sentence settles like a verdict.

Caelen looks toward the dates. "Approximately forty-eight hours."

Nyra nods. "Not exact."

"But close."

"Yes."

Rhyven's gaze remains on the page. "Next?"

No one wants to answer. I know anyway. So does everyone else. Nyra writes: Sunday.

Something in Rhyven changes. Not visibly to anyone who doesn't know him. But I do. His attention shifts from the page. To me. Only briefly. Then to Caelen.

"From now on, no student moves alone."

Caelen nods. "Agreed."

"Even daylight."

"Soren and the other Chiefs need to know."

"Tonight."

Nyra closes the notebook. "The Council will make it official."

"They should." Rhyven's voice is cold now. Strategic. But his eyes find me once more. Sunday. He doesn't say it. He doesn't have to.

The meeting breaks apart. Caelen leaves to tell the Chiefs. Nyra and Cassian head toward Root Wing together. I start toward my residence.

"Wait." I stop. Rhyven is gathering the loose reports from the table.

"For what?"