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I close my eyes. I don't cry. I don't need to. Nothing has happened yet. Rhyven is across the hall. Caelen is across the hall. Everyone is still here. For two more days. So I sleep. Or eventually I pretend well enough that my body believes me.

Chapter Fifty-nine

By six in the morning, the Academy sounds different.

Metal. Everywhere. Blades against sharpening stones. Buckles closing. Equipment chests opening. Boots crossing stone floors. Dragons calling from the western grounds. Voices. Orders. Names. No alarms. No attack. Just preparation. Somehow, that's worse.

I wake before Nyra. Five twenty-eight. For once, not because someone knocks on a door. I lie there for approximately thirty seconds before deciding that's useless. Get up. Dress. Braid my hair. Weapons. Boots. Done.

Nyra opens one eye. "What time is it?"

"Early."

"You said that yesterday."

"Still accurate." Her eye closes. I leave.

The corridor is empty. Room 305 is open. Beds empty. Of course. Caelen and Rhyven are already gone. I don't know why I expected otherwise.

Breakfast begins at six. I arrive at five forty-nine. The kitchens aren't technically open. Nobody stops me. Apparently carrying seventeen first-year response files gives me an air of authority I absolutely do not deserve.

By six fifteen, my group is assembled. Sixteen. I count again. Sixteen. "Where's Joss?"

Toren raises a hand. "Infirmary."

"Why."

"Stomach."

"Ill?"

"Breakfast."

I close my eyes. "What did he eat."

"Don't know."

"Wonderful."

We train without him. Rally points. Emergency assignments. Secondary command. Today, nobody complains. That bothers me.

At six forty, a dragon launches somewhere beyond the western wall. Every first-year looks up.

"Eyes here." They return. Good. Again.

At seven twenty, Mara takes over. "Go eat."

"I'm fine."

"That wasn't a question." I stare. She's learning from Rhyven. Terrible.

The dining hall is chaos. Not loud. Organized chaos. Third-years eat beside open equipment lists. Fourth-years compare field assignments. Professors move between tables. Someone has placed three crates of medical supplies beside the northern doors. Weapons are not normally allowed at breakfast. Today, half the room has them.

I find Caelen. He has food. Good. Rhyven, not here.

I sit across from Caelen. He looks at me. "You look terrible."

"Good morning."