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"When the route is clear."

"Move."

"No."

Her eyes flash. "He's my dragon."

Rhyven's voice softens. Barely. "I know." That stops her. Not the order. Understanding.

"He's terrified." She whispers.

"I know."

"You don't—"

"I do." Rhyven glances once toward Vyrael. The girl follows. Whatever she sees there changes her. She nods. Steps back. Waits. I watch him move from Rider to Rider. Answers. Orders. Names. Locations. He knows where every Sky Wing dragon is. Every Rider. Every reassignment. He doesn't need to check the board most of the time. This is his Wing. His responsibility. His family, in whatever language Riders use for that. And tonight one of them is missing.

Dax reaches him near the command table. "Corvell."

Rhyven doesn't look up. "Not now."

"Yes, now." That gets his attention. Dax lowers his voice. "You've been on your feet since yesterday morning."

"So?"

"So you're making decisions angry."

Rhyven's eyes sharpen. "Are they wrong?"

"No."

"Then move." Dax doesn't. Good man.

"You're not the only Chief here."

"I know."

"Act like it." Silence.

For one second, I think Rhyven might tell him exactly where to go. Instead he looks toward the field. Then the Riders. Then Vyrael. Finally— "Take southern relocation."

Dax nods. "And?"

"Get Soren on residence defense."

"Already did."

"Maelis?"

"Evidence transit." Rhyven's jaw loosens half an inch. Dax claps his shoulder once. Not gently. "You're welcome." Then leaves. Rhyven looks like he wants to kill him. Better. Almost normal.

Nyra pulls me toward the table. "Look." She has both timelines open. Historical. Current. Five disappearances. Now six. A dragon symbol beside tonight.

"Current day?" I ask.

"Thirteen since Jonas."

I frown. "Thirteen?"