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Footsteps enter the common room. Rhyven. He has a report in one hand. His gaze moves to the clock. Then us. He knows exactly what we're doing.

"Nothing?" I ask.

"No."

"Anywhere?"

"No." He doesn't look relieved. Neither do we.

Nyra closes the file. "Tomorrow."

The library. I look toward the stack of old citations.

Varethian Civic Record. Western Settlement Ledger. Village census archive. Ordinary documents. Old documents. Documents someone might have forgotten existed. Maybe they contain nothing. Maybe the Council cleaned those too. Maybe we're about to spend an entire day inhaling dust for absolutely no reason. But the Silent Archive is sealed.

The Hollowborn are quiet. And somewhere beneath the Academy's carefully preserved version of history, there are original voices we haven't heard yet.

Rhyven looks toward the clock again. Four days. Then toward me.

Something cold moves through my stomach. Because I know that expression now. He's thinking the same thing I am. The disappearances didn't stop because we became better at watching. They stopped because something changed. The question is what.

Tomorrow... we start looking somewhere nobody thought to seal.

Chapter Forty-four

The village looks normal. I don't like it. Four days ago, a dragon disappeared from inside Academy wards. Five people vanished before her. The Council controls every gate. Patrols run through the night.

Students train until their hands shake. And yet someone is arranging flowers outside a bakery. I stare at her as we pass. Yellow ones. Small. Bright. She places them into two clay pots beside the door, steps back, decides one is crooked and fixes it. Across the street, a man pulls chairs onto the terrace of a café.

Someone laughs. A delivery cart rattles over stone. Two children chase each other around a fountain while their mother speaks to a shopkeeper. Normal.

Painfully normal.

"You're staring." Rhyven's voice comes from my right.

"I'm observing."

"At flowers."

"They're suspicious."

He looks toward the bakery. "Extremely." I glance at him. His mouth almost moves.

We're five today. Caelen. Cassian. Nyra. Rhyven. Me. No professors. No wardkeepers following ten feet behind us. Official authorization hangs from Caelen's belt, stamped by the Council and the Headmaster.

Apparently two Chief Wings Officers are considered sufficient protection for a trip to a public library.

That feels flattering. Or deeply concerning.

Cassian walks ahead with Nyra.bHe's eating. Obviously. I don't know where he keeps finding food.

Caelen has the map even though all five of us know exactly where the library is. Rhyven walks on the outside edge of the group. Street side. I notice. I don't say anything. A narrow alley opens to our right. Rhyven's gaze moves into it before we pass. Another intersection. Same. A delivery wagon approaches. His hand touches my elbow for half a second and moves me inward before the wheel passes. Then it's gone.

He keeps walking. No explanation. No glance. Nothing. I look at the back of his hand. Then forward. Apparently I notice these things now. Wonderful.

"The Place is reopening tonight." Cassian announces.

Caelen doesn't look up from the route. "No."