Page 501

"This one says central structure." Nyra says.

Cassian looks over. "Heart?"

"No."

"Useful."

"I know."

They keep going. Heart. Old references. Missing terminology. Whatever. Normally I'd be beside them. Arguing. Searching. Today, the words blur.

"Eirea." Nyra.

I look up. "What."

"You've turned the same page six times."

"No, I haven't."

Cassian looks toward me. "You have." Traitors.

I close the book. "Going outside." Nyra doesn't stop me.

The western grounds are restricted. Of course. I know that. I still walk near enough to see. Dragons line the preparation field. Riders. Equipment teams. Ward specialists. Professors. Third-years. Fourth-years. Everything in motion.

Vyrael stands near the far end. Impossible to miss. Dark against the pale morning. Rhyven is beneath his wing. Checking something along the harness.

Caelen stands farther away with ground command.

Maps. Weapons. People around him. Everyone needs something. I could go down. Probably. Maybe not. Doesn't matter. I don't. Rhyven looks up once. Toward the upper path. Maybe not at me. I step back anyway. He probably felt me. Stupid.

At eight fifteen, I reorganize First-Year Response kits.

Nobody asked. At eight forty, I finish. At eight forty-two, I start again. At nine ten, Cassian catches me counting bandages. "You did that yesterday."

"I know."

"And this morning."

"I know."

"How many?"

"Forty-two."

He blinks. "Then why are you counting." I look at him. He nods slowly. "Right." He leaves.

At ten, Nyra forces me outside. Not literally. Emotionally. "Walk." She says.

"I have things to do."

"You've reorganized the same cabinet twice."

"It needed it."

"No."

We walk. No destination. Village visible beyond the walls. Students moving around us. Some crying. Some pretending not to. Some writing letters. Some laughing too loudly. Everyone knows what tonight is.