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Professor Kaelis reaches the command hall at a run.

Blood down one side of his neck. He's alive. Good.

"Theryn is circling west."

I look at him. "Can you stop her?"

His expression tells me before he answers. "Not safely."

"Can another dragon restrain her?"

"They're trying." Trying.

"What happens if they can't?" No answer. I know.

A runner bursts through. "Southern courtyard breached!"

The Headmaster turns. "How many?"

"Twenty. Maybe thirty."

"Hollowborn?"

"And controlled."

"Second-year command?"

"Holding." Barely, judging by his face.

I look toward Nyra. She already knows. "First-Year Response stays."

She nods. "I know."

Cassian looks toward me. "You don't."

"What."

"Stay." Oh. I almost laugh.

"Do you?"

"No."

"Excellent."

We go. The southern courtyard looks like another world. Smoke trapped between stone buildings. Fire along one balcony. Ward markers flashing. Bodies. Too many. I refuse to count them.

A second-year group is holding the central stairs. Poorly. Not because they aren't capable. Because there are too many enemies. White-eyed villagers.

Students. Soldiers. Some still wearing Elarion colors.

No. Not Elarion. Where the fuck did they come from?

Different kingdoms? Taken people? Missing people?

Questions later.

"Hold the stairs!" Someone shouts.