Arthur read the name again.
ARTHUR VALE.
It hadn’t changed.
That was unfortunate.
He looked at Mira.
“Where did you get this?”
“Original transfer authorization.”
“Show me.”
She handed him the document.
The paper was older than the copies they’d been studying.
Its edges had yellowed, and the ink had faded in several places.
Nineteen names appeared beneath a heading:
SCHOLARSHIP CADET TRAINING REALLOCATION
Then, separated by a line, was a twentieth entry.
ARTHUR VALE — OBSERVER / COMPATIBILITY CANDIDATE
Arthur stared at the words.
“Observer.”
Mira nodded.
“You weren’t listed as one of the scholarship students.”
“No.”
“So why was your name there?”
“I don’t know.”
Mira looked at him.
Arthur sighed.
“I know that’s becoming an irritating answer.”
“It is.”
He examined the document again.
There was something wrong with it.
Not the handwriting.
The structure.
Every student’s name had an assigned destination.
West Rampart.
Lower Maintenance.
Outer Watch.
Magical Engineering.
Arthur had none.
Instead, beside his name was a single handwritten mark.
A circle crossed by three short lines.
Arthur’s stomach tightened.
The same symbol.
The desk.
The wall.
The West Tower.
The lower archive.
His fingers stopped moving.
Mira noticed.
“That symbol again?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember it?”
Arthur closed his eyes.
For a moment, nothing came.
Then—
A corridor.
Black stone.
Someone standing beside him.
A voice.
You don’t need to understand the symbol.
The memory vanished.
Arthur opened his eyes.
“No.”
Mira waited.
He added, “Not yet.”
She nodded.
No argument.
That was one of the things Arthur had started appreciating about her.
Mira didn’t demand answers simply because silence made her uncomfortable.
“What does ‘observer’ mean?” she asked.
Arthur looked back at the document.
“That’s what we need to find out.”
The answer wasn’t in Scholarship Administration.
They checked.
Twice.
The first clerk told them the document had been archived incorrectly.
The second told them the document was incomplete.
Neither offered an explanation for why Arthur’s name appeared on it.
When Mira asked who had authorized the original transfer, the clerk became noticeably less helpful.
“Training administration.”
“Who specifically?”
“I don’t have that information.”
Arthur leaned against the counter.
“You’ve just told us the document is incomplete.”
“Yes.”
“And that the authorization came from Training Administration.”
“Yes.”
“So somebody knows who signed it.”
The clerk frowned.
“That doesn’t mean I can tell you.”
Arthur smiled politely.
“I didn’t ask whether you could.”
The clerk blinked.
Mira glanced sideways at Arthur.
That tone meant trouble.
Arthur continued.
“I asked whether the information exists.”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.”
He straightened.
“Then we’ll submit a request.”
The clerk relaxed.
“Of course.”
“Under whose authority?”
The clerk’s expression changed again.
Arthur noticed.
Interesting.
“Academic research,” he said.
“That won’t qualify.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not conducting approved research.”
“Then we’ll request authorization.”
“From whom?”
Arthur smiled.
“You tell me.”
The clerk stared at him.
Mira covered a smile with her hand.
The clerk eventually pointed toward a hallway.
“Deputy Registrar Harlan.”
Arthur’s smile disappeared.
There it was.
Harlan’s office remained closed.
Again.
A notice had been placed on the door.
ADMINISTRATIVE REVIEW IN PROGRESS.
Arthur stared at it.
Mira stood beside him.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
“Yes.”
“You think he’s avoiding us?”
Arthur considered the possibility.
“I think someone is.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
Arthur reached toward the notice.
Mira caught his wrist.
“Don’t.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Arthur looked at her hand.
Then at her.
“I’m improving.”
“You’re improving very slowly.”
He accepted the criticism.
They left.
Neither noticed the person watching from the opposite staircase.
Julian found Arthur in the eastern training yard.
“You’re late.”
Arthur looked at the clock.
“By thirty seconds.”
“Late.”
“You’re becoming unpleasant.”
“I was always unpleasant.”
“Fair.”
Julian tossed him a wooden practice sword.
Arthur caught it badly.
Julian shook his head.
“Your grip.”
Arthur adjusted it.
“Better?”
“No.”
Arthur looked down.
Julian stepped behind him and moved his fingers.
“Stop strangling the sword.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’ve negotiated with executives who were less stubborn.”
Julian snorted.
“This isn’t a negotiation.”
“That seems to be the problem.”
Julian stepped back.
“Attack.”
Arthur moved.
The first exchange lasted six seconds.
The second lasted nine.
The third lasted eleven.
On the fourth, Julian deliberately changed rhythm.
Arthur reacted too early.
The wooden blade struck his ribs.
He stumbled.
Julian didn’t let him recover.
Another strike.
Arthur blocked.
Another.
He blocked again.
Then Julian swept his leg.
Arthur hit the ground.
He stared at the sky.
“You changed the pattern.”
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t fair.”
“Combat isn’t fair.”
Arthur sat up.
Julian extended a hand.
Arthur accepted it.
“You’re still trying to predict me,” Julian said.
“I prefer information.”
“You’re treating movement like information.”
“It is.”
“Sometimes.”
Julian pulled him upright.
“Sometimes you just have to move.”
Arthur looked at him.
“You’re asking me to trust instinct.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have much.”
“Then build some.”
Arthur exhaled.
The advice was annoyingly reasonable.
They continued.
This time Arthur stopped trying to anticipate every strike.
He watched Julian’s body.
Not the next attack.
Not the possible attack.
The movement happening now.
For nearly a minute, he survived.
Then Julian hit him.
Arthur fell.
Julian smiled.
“Better.”
Arthur remained on the ground.
“Your definition of better is strange.”
“You lasted fifty-eight seconds.”
Arthur looked up.
“That was almost a minute.”
“Exactly.”
He offered his hand again.
Arthur took it.
Small progress.
Nothing more.
For once, that was enough.
Mira was waiting outside the training yard.
She had a different expression.
Arthur noticed immediately.
“What happened?”
“I found Tomas.”
Arthur stopped.
“Derek’s brother?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Greyhaven.”
Arthur frowned.
Greyhaven wasn’t part of the academy.
It was a settlement built on one of the lower platforms beneath Gallows Edge.
“Why is he there?”
“He left the academy.”
“I know that.”
Mira shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
She handed him a note.
TOMAS ROWE — MEDICAL DISCHARGE
STATUS: VOLUNTARY WITHDRAWAL
REASON: PERSONAL
Arthur read it twice.
“That’s false.”
Mira nodded.
“Derek said Tomas didn’t withdraw voluntarily.”
“Can we talk to him?”
“He doesn’t want to talk to the academy.”
Arthur folded the note.
“Reasonable.”
“You’ll have to go without the academy’s permission.”
Arthur looked toward the fortress.
“Would that violate a rule?”
“Probably.”
“Then we should check.”
Mira sighed.
“You’re actually considering it?”
“I’m considering whether the consequences are worth it.”
“That means yes.” The source of this chapter is g.com.
“Usually.”
She looked at him carefully.
“You know what this could mean.”
Arthur did.
Tomas was one of the nineteen.
He had a mark.
He had mentioned the training wasn’t training.
And now his official record claimed he had left voluntarily.
That wasn’t proof.
But it was enough to justify a question.
Arthur’s eyes moved to the western towers.
“We need to speak to him.”
They didn’t leave immediately.
That would have been too easy.
Instead, Arthur went to the academy regulations office.
He spent forty minutes reading rules governing student travel.
Mira waited beside him.
Finally, Arthur closed the book.
“Greyhaven is technically part of the academy’s protected territory.”
“So?”
“Students can travel there during approved free periods.”
“Approved by whom?”
“The dormitory warden.”
Mira stared at him.
Arthur smiled.
“What?”
“You actually found a legal way.”
“I wasn’t looking for an illegal one.”
“Yet.”
“I’ve changed.”
“Not that much.”
Arthur ignored that.
They submitted the request.
It was denied.
ACADEMIC REMEDIATION STATUS — TRAVEL RESTRICTION.
Arthur stared at the rejection.
His combat evaluation.
His ranking.
His unfinished remedial training.
He hadn’t considered that his poor academic standing could prevent him from investigating.
Mira folded her arms.
“So?”
Arthur leaned back.
“So our problem isn’t getting into Greyhaven.”
“What is it?”
“Getting permission to leave.”
Mira thought for a moment.
“Voss?”
Arthur shook his head.
“She already sponsored our scholarship investigation. Asking again might attract unnecessary attention.”
“Then who?”
Arthur looked at the rejected request.
A name appeared at the bottom.
AUTHORIZING OFFICER: MASTER CORVIN
He went silent.
Mira noticed.
“That’s bad.”
“Very.”
“Because Corvin is connected to the lower archive.”
“And because he can now decide whether I investigate one of the nineteen students.”
Mira frowned.
“So what do we do?”
Arthur folded the paper.
“We don’t ask Corvin.”
That evening, Arthur returned to his room.
Something waited beneath his door.
Not a black envelope.
Not a mysterious message.
A formal academy notice.
He opened it.
MANDATORY REMEDIATION REVIEW
CADET: ARTHUR VALE
DATE: THREE DAYS FROM PRESENT
EVALUATORS: INSTRUCTOR SERAPHINE VOSS, MASTER CORVIN, INSTRUCTOR HALLEN
Arthur read the names again.
Three evaluators.
One he trusted cautiously.
One he didn’t trust.
One he barely knew.
His ranking could change.
His advanced field training could be restored.
Or suspended further.
He placed the notice on his desk.
Then he opened his notebook.
The list of nineteen names occupied the first page.
Below it, he added another line.
20.
Arthur Vale — Observer / Compatibility Candidate
He stared at it.
Then crossed out the number.
He wrote:
20.
Why was I there?
Mira entered without knocking.
She saw the page.
“You’re putting yourself on the list.”
Arthur closed the notebook.
“I already was.”
“No.”
She pointed at the crossed-out number.
“You’re separating yourself from them.”
Arthur didn’t answer.
Mira’s voice softened.
“You keep saying the nineteen are more important than the mystery.”
“They are.”
“Then remember something.”
Arthur looked at her.
“You’re one of the people investigating this.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So you don’t get to investigate yourself as if you’re just another piece of evidence.”
Arthur considered that.
It was an irritatingly good point.
He nodded once.
“Fair.”
Mira smiled.
“That’s the first time you’ve admitted that quickly.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
She laughed.
Arthur opened the notebook again.
The final page contained the lessons he’d been collecting.
He added one more.
20.
Don’t remove yourself from the problem just because you’re part of it.
For several seconds, he stared at the sentence.
Then he closed the notebook.
Three days until his evaluation.
One missing student waiting in Greyhaven.
Nineteen scholarship cadets whose records had been altered.
And his own name sitting among them.
Arthur had spent most of his previous life solving other people’s problems.
This time, he suspected he was one of them.
And that made the negotiation considerably more difficult.