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"Animals?" Professor Neris asks.

"Gone."

"Dead?"

"No bodies."

"Migration?"

"Too fast."

"Area?"

"Approximately three square miles." Nyra's quill moves. The wolf continues. "Patrols entered before dawn. Birdsong stopped at the boundary. No prey scent. No predator scent. No decay. No rot. Nothing."

Cassian shifts beside me. "Gap?" I whisper. He nods once. Maybe.

"Manifestations?" Rhyven asks.

The man's voice changes slightly. "Reduced."

"How much?"

"Variable."

"Complete failure?"

"No."

"Duration?"

"Minutes."

"Current?"

"Mostly restored." Mostly.

"Dragon behavior?" Professor Kaelis asks.

"We don't keep permanent dragon patrols in that district." Of course. Tiravell is wolf territory. Different defense systems. Different habits. Different weaknesses.

"What did the wolves sense?" Dax asks. Everyone looks toward him.

The Tiravell commander answers after a pause. "Wrongness."

Dax's jaw tightens. "Specific."

The man's breathing comes through the relay. "No trail."

Dax goes still. "What."

"Nothing enters. Nothing leaves. Scents stop at the boundary." Silence. For wolves, that is not a small thing.

Dax steps closer to the map. "Fresh tracks?"

"Yes."

"Scent?"