Page 367

No. It isn't. Nyra turns pages faster. Another message. Three days later. Tiravell. Two missing patrol members. Magical disturbance reported near the northern boundary. Another. Lyssara. Fishing settlement. Four missing. Water magic weakened along the coast. My pulse starts beating harder.

"They moved." I say. Nobody corrects me.

Rhyven pulls the regional correspondence he'd been reading toward us. "I have the same dates." He places one letter beside Nyra's ledger. An old military report. Varethia quiet. Elarion reports anomalies. Then Tiravell. Then Lyssara. Not simultaneously. Progressively.

Nyra stares at the documents. "This wasn't one event."

Cassian looks at her. "What was it?"

She doesn't answer immediately. Instead, she pulls the regional map from our supplies. Spreads it across the table. Varethia. Elarion. Tiravell. Lyssara. She marks the dates beside each. Eleven days of silence. Then Elarion. Three days. Tiravell. Five. Lyssara. A sequence. A direction. A path. Nyra looks up. "A route." Nobody speaks.

My eyes return to Varethia. Our Varethia. Four days quiet. No disappearances. No depletion. No alarms. People putting flowers outside bakeries. The Place reopening. Students complaining about curfew. A professor suggesting reduced patrols. My stomach turns.

"We need to tell the Council." Caelen says. "Today."

Rhyven nods. "Copies first."

Mistress Marr appears again. "No." Everyone turns.

Rhyven's expression hardens. "No?"

"You don't copy those."

"Why."

"Age." She points. "The binding won't survive pressure."

"We can transcribe." Nyra says.

Mistress Marr considers. "By hand."

"Fine."

"Here."

"Fine."

"No removal."

"Fine."

"Nothing leaves this room."

Rhyven looks toward the clock. "We need evidence."

Mistress Marr folds her arms. "You have five functioning hands."

Cassian raises his. "Technically ten."

She looks at him. "I've changed my mind."

"About liking me?"

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"No."