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"No."

"Eyes?"

"No." Silence. Rhyven waits. Nobody answers.

"Jaw." I look. There. Tension. Tiny. Muscle gathered beneath the scales.

"Back up." Rhyven says. The student does. Vyrael relaxes. Rhyven looks across the entire group. "You don't guess with dragons." His voice isn't loud. "Guess wrong with me, you repeat the exercise." His gaze shifts toward Vyrael. "Guess wrong with them..." A pause "Somebody dies." No one jokes after that.

Training lasts three hours. Not one person complains by the end. Not because we're less exhausted. Because everyone understands why we're doing it.

Theryn changed that. Mistakes used to be hypothetical. Now they have a name.

At the end of the final rotation, Rhyven gathers everyone near the center of the field. Some students sit. Others remain standing. Cassian drops directly onto the grass. Nyra stays upright because apparently fatigue is beneath her. I stand. Mostly because if I sit, I may never get back up.

"You're improving." That gets everyone's attention. Praise from Rhyven is apparently a historic event. "But." There it is. "You still look at Riders too often."

A few people glance toward the dragons. "Stop." He points toward the bronze female. "If her Rider is unconscious..." Then the blue male. "If his Rider is injured..." Then Vyrael. "If there is no Rider at all..." His eyes move across us. "The dragon is still giving you information." Silence. "You learn them." He pauses. "Not because Riders need you to." His gaze flicks briefly toward the empty section of field nobody uses anymore. "Because one day, the Rider may not be able to tell you what the dragon already has."

Theryn knew. Before Eddy. Protect. Move. Run.

My stomach tightens. Rhyven dismisses us.

Students scatter slowly. Cassian remains sitting. "That man could make breakfast sound threatening."

I pick up my bag. "He'd criticize your chewing."

"He probably already does."

Nyra walks past. "He should."

Cassian looks offended. "What is wrong with my chewing?" Neither of us answers.

We make it halfway back toward North Residence before Nyra stops. Just stops. I nearly walk into her.

Cassian groans behind me.

"No." Nyra doesn't move.

I look at her. "What?" Nothing. Her eyes have gone distant. Not frightened. Thinking.

Cassian points. "That face."

"What face?"

"The one she makes before ruining everyone's day."

Nyra turns toward us. "We're searching the wrong library."

I blink. "What?"

Cassian closes his eyes. "There it is."

"We're not searching any library." I say. "The Archive is sealed."

"I know."

"Then—"