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I tighten my grip around the dagger in my left hand.

My right arm still tingles from the Hollowborn strike.

Fine. I've fought without it before.

Nyra looks toward me. "What now?"

The question lands. Not Chief. Not professor. Me.

I look around. At the students waiting. At the wounded. At the map. At the smoke moving beneath the doors. Everything we've trained for. Everything we hoped we'd never need.

"Now?" I breathe once. "Now we stop them from getting any farther.

Chapter Sixty-five

The words leave my mouth. For exactly three seconds, I believe I know what that means. Then the western tower collapses.

The sound comes first. Deep. Impossible. Stone breaking against stone somewhere beyond the inner courtyard. Every head in the command hall turns toward the windows. The tower doesn't fall cleanly.

Nothing tonight does. The upper structure tilts. Holds. For one horrible second, it looks like it might stay that way. Then the entire western side gives.

Stone disappears into smoke. Windows burst outward. Something enormous crashes through the lower roof. The impact travels through the Academy floor beneath my boots. People scream. Someone shouts: "WESTERN TOWER DOWN!" Another voice immediately contradicts: "PARTIAL COLLAPSE!"

As if that makes it better.

The Headmaster points toward the map. "Evacuate everything west of the central stair." Professor Vayne is already moving. "Vaelith." I look at him.

"Your first-years stay inner east."

"I know."

"No heroics."

"I know." His eyes hold mine. He doesn't believe me.

Fair.

Another blast shakes the windows. Something strikes the outer wall. Dragon. Or magic. Or both. I can't tell anymore.

Cassian presses one hand against his temple. His face twists. "What?" Nyra asks. He looks toward the western side of the Academy. "The gaps are everywhere."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

His breathing sharpens. "There are too many."

Too many Hollowborn. Too many stolen minds. Too many places where magic is being consumed or suppressed or broken. Too many things happening at once. Good. Useful. We knew chaos would do this. We trained for chaos. Not this much. Still.

"Eirea!" Lena. I turn. She stands beside the inner doors. "Toren says the first-year hall is full."

"How many?"

"More coming."

"Move them to lower lecture."

"It's full too."