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I realize what I said. Heat crawls up my neck. "For the injury."

"Obviously."

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face did." His mouth twitches. I narrow my eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Unfortunately."

I push the tin closer. "Use it."

"Later."

"Now."

He raises an eyebrow. "Bossy."

"Frequently." There. His own word. Rhyven looks at me for a second. Then takes the salve. Victory. I stand. "I'm going upstairs before this conversation gets worse."

"It already did."

"Your fault."

"Naturally."

Another day passes. Then another. The quiet stretches. Long enough that I've stopped counting every morning. Not completely. Enough.

Saturday night is ordinary. Painfully. Nyra is reading in bed. I'm reviewing ward theory. Cassian is somewhere down the hall arguing with his roommate about cards. Caelen and Rhyven are in Room 305. Probably. No alarms. Then a dragon lands outside.

Hard. The impact rattles the window. I look up. Nyra does too. Not unusual. Dragons land constantly. But not like that. Fast. Heavy. Wrong. Voices rise below.

Footsteps. Not panic. Urgency. A door opens across the hall. Then another. I sit up. Nyra closes her book. We listen. Someone runs up the staircase. Fast. I open our door. Across the corridor, Room 305 is already open. Caelen stands there pulling on his coat. Rhyven beside him, fastening a weapon belt. Half dressed. Fully awake. Chiefs. Instantly.

A professor reaches the top of the stairs. Breathing hard. Looks directly at them. "Council chamber."

Rhyven's hand stops. "Why."

"Now."

Caelen steps forward. "What happened?"

The professor's gaze moves toward me. Then Nyra. Then back to the Chiefs.

I ask before he can leave. "What happened?"

He hesitates. Only for a second. Then— "Nothing in Varethia." And keeps walking. Silence.

Rhyven looks at Caelen. Caelen looks at him. Nyra steps beside me. My stomach drops. Because for the first time in nearly two weeks, nothing happening here sounds terrifying.

Chapter Fifty

Nobody moves. For several seconds, the corridor remains perfectly still. Then Caelen looks at Rhyven. Rhyven looks at Caelen. And whatever passes between them is enough. They leave. Immediately. No explanation. No questions. No time.

I stand in the doorway of Room Three-Zero-Four with Nyra beside me. Across the hall, Room Three-Zero-Five hangs open. Empty. Again. Something about that bothers me more than it should.

"Elarion." Nyra says.