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"No."

"Why?"

I look down at my hands. Simple answer. "I didn't need it."

Dax is quiet. Then— "Exactly."

Something about that word settles deeper than it should. Exactly. Not because power is bad. Not because Blood Echo is dangerous. Not because I should be afraid of what I can do. Because having power doesn't mean I owe it every opportunity.

I choose. That's all. Maybe that's always been all.

Dax stands. "Again next week."

I look up. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Scared I'll improve too much if you wait longer?"

"Terrified."

I smile. "Good."

He leaves.

The rest of the day is almost boring. I say that with gratitude. Academics. Ward theory. Dinner. Patrol assignments. Nothing. No bells. No messages. No disappearance.

At dinner, Nyra looks at the clock three times. Cassian notices on the fourth. "Stop."

She looks at him. "What."

"You're doing it."

"Doing what."

"Counting." Nyra doesn't answer. Neither do I. Caelen looks between us. Then toward the clock.

"Eleven days." Cassian says. There. Out loud. The table becomes quieter. Not silent. The dining hall around us remains loud.

"Historical Elarion reports began after eleven." Nyra says.

Cassian looks at her. "And?"

"And nothing."

"Good." Nyra doesn't answer.

I do. "Good." She looks at me. I mean it. "I don't want us to be right." I say.

Something in Nyra's face softens. "Neither do I."

Cassian leans back. "Excellent." He takes a drink. "Then we're all hoping we wasted several days inhaling ancient dust."

"Yes." Caelen answers.

Cassian raises his cup. "To wasted research."

I raise mine. "Please." Nyra hesitates. Then does too. Caelen last. Four cups touch. Quietly.