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Cass Veyr woke up with his face stuck to a textbook and someone's boot kicking his chair.
"Get up, Veyr. Exam starts in ten."
He peeled his cheek off the page. Drool had smudged an entire paragraph on warding theory. Not that it mattered. He didn't know the material yesterday and he sure as hell didn't know it now. His head felt like someone had stuffed it with wet sand. The family ring on his finger was too tight. He twisted it. Didn't help.
The boot kicked again. He looked up. Nix Rowan stood there with two cups of coffee and the expression of a guy who'd watched his roommate throw up twice last night.
"You look like death."
"Thanks." Cass took the coffee. It was cold. He drank it anyway.
"You remember the plan?" Nix asked.
Cass squinted at him. "What plan?"
"The duel. After lunch. You and Harrick throw a few sparks, you take a dive, everyone goes home happy."
Right. The duel. The fake one his father had paid for so Cass could scrape through Combat Practicals without actually having to win anything. Harrick Lowe was a middling talent who needed money. Cass needed a passing grade. Simple.
"Yeah," Cass said. "I remember."
Nix didn't look convinced. "You paid him already?"
Cass had paid him last week. He was pretty sure. Or maybe that was the bribe for the proctor to look the other way during Alchemy Theory. God, he couldn't keep it straight anymore.
The first bell rang. A deep, bronze sound that rattled through the dormitory walls and made Cass's teeth ache. Students started moving. Cass stood up too fast and his vision grayed out for a second.
"You good?" Nix asked.
"Fantastic."
They headed down to the exam hall. Oryx College looked better in the morning light than it had any right to. Old stone, tall windows, kids in embroidered jackets pretending they weren't all one bad grade away from losing their family's favor. Cass fit right in. Except he wasn't pretending.
The proctor handed out the test papers. Cass stared at the first question.
*Describe the resonance principles underlying third-circle containment.*
He didn't even know what half those words meant.
He filled in some nonsense. Moved to the next question. More nonsense. By the end of the hour he'd written his name, the date, and a couple of sentences that might pass for answers if you squinted and didn't care about facts.
When the bell rang again he handed it in and walked out before the proctor could give him the look. The one that said *your father's money won't save you forever.*
Lunch was in the main hall. Cass grabbed bread and didn't taste it. Across the room he spotted Harrick. The guy gave him a nod. Cass nodded back. Good. Still on.
Then he saw her.
Mara Flint sat alone near the corner, a plate of food in front of her and a knife in her hand. Not a dining knife. A real one. She was cleaning her nails with it. People gave her space. Scholarship kids always had that edge. Like they'd fought for every inch and weren't afraid to prove it.
She looked up. Her eyes caught his for half a second. Dark eyes. Sharp.
Cass looked away first.
The duel was scheduled for two in the afternoon in the lower arena. Cass showed up early because Nix dragged him there. A couple dozen students had already gathered to watch. Duels were popular. Especially the ones everyone knew were fake.
Harrick was warming up in the center ring. He had his jacket off and his sleeves rolled. He looked competent. That was the point. Make it look real enough that the proctors signed off, but not so real that Cass ended up with actual burns.
"Remember," Nix said. "Three exchanges. Then you go down. Don't improvise."
"I won't."
"Last time you improvised you set your own hair on fire."
"That was an accident."
Nix gave him a look. Then he clapped Cass on the shoulder and went to join the crowd.
Cass stepped into the ring. Harrick grinned at him. The kind of grin that said *thanks for the money, rich boy.*
The proctor raised his hand. "Standard rules. First blood or yield. Begin."
Harrick moved first. A basic fire lance, slow and obvious. Cass sidestepped it. The crowd murmured. He was supposed to block, not dodge. He was already screwing it up.
Harrick came in again. This time Cass raised a shield. Barely. The flame splash hit it and the heat made his eyes water. Okay. That was one exchange.
Harrick wound up for the third. This was it. Cass would take the hit, go down, everyone would clap. Done.
Then the ground moved.
Not like an earthquake. Like something underneath had shifted. The stone under Cass's feet cracked. He stumbled. Harrick's spell went wide and hit the barrier wall. The crowd noise changed. Confused. Nervous.
The crack widened.
Something came up out of it.
Cass didn't have a name for it. Too many limbs. Too many teeth. It moved wrong. Like it was folding through space instead of walking. The smell hit him first. Rotting meat and burning hair.
Someone screamed.
The thing lunged at Harrick. Harrick threw a spell. It didn't matter. The thing opened him up in one motion. Blood hit the sand. Harrick didn't even have time to look surprised.
The crowd ran. Cass should have run. He just stood there.
The thing turned. Its head. Heads? He couldn't tell. It looked at him. He felt the weight of it. Like it knew him.
It came for him.
He tried to move. His legs didn't work. The family ring on his finger started burning. Actually burning. He smelled his own skin cooking.
Then someone hit him from the side.
He went down hard. Rolled. Came up on his knees. Mara Flint was standing between him and the thing. She had two blades out. Her stance was low and perfect.
"Get up," she said.
"I can't—"
"Then stay down and shut up."
The thing lunged. Mara moved. She was fast. Faster than anyone Cass had ever seen. Her blades caught light and carved through one of the limbs. It fell. The thing screamed. The sound made Cass's ears ring.
More students were dying. He could hear it. The proctors were trying to get the barriers up but they weren't fast enough. The thing was everywhere.
Mara cursed. She grabbed Cass by the collar and dragged him toward the wall. "We're leaving."
"It's following me," Cass said. He didn't know how he knew. He just did. "My ring. It wants—"
"I don't care what it wants."
They made it to the tunnel. Behind them the arena was chaos. Smoke. Screaming. The thing tearing through stone and flesh like neither mattered.
Mara shoved him against the wall. Her hand was still on his collar. She was close enough that he could feel the heat coming off her. Sweat on her temple. Blood on her jacket. Not hers.
"What did you do?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Nothing. I didn't—"
"People don't die for nothing."
Her eyes locked on his. She wasn't scared. That was the worst part. She was angry. At him.
"I swear," he said. "I don't know what that thing is."
She studied him. Then she let go. Stepped back. "You're a terrible liar."
"I'm not lying."
She turned to look back at the arena. The smoke was getting thicker. He could still hear the screaming. Less of it now.
"There's a bell tower," Cass said. He didn't know why he said it. The words just came. "Tonight. Midnight. They're going to ring the bell."
Mara looked at him. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't let them ring it," he said. His chest hurt. He looked down. There was blood. A lot of it. When had that happened? "Please. Don't let—"
His knees went out.
Mara caught him. Her hands were warmer than he expected. She lowered him down. He could see her face above him. She looked frustrated. Like he was a problem she couldn't stab her way out of.
"Live first," she said. "Then you can beg."
He tried to answer. Couldn't.
The world went black.
And then—
Cass Veyr woke up with his face stuck to a textbook and someone's boot kicking his chair.
"Get up, Veyr. Exam starts in ten."
He peeled his cheek off the page. Drool had smudged an entire paragraph on warding theory. His chest didn't hurt. His hands were clean. The family ring sat on his finger, cool and ordinary.
The first bell started ringing.
He knew that sound. He'd heard it before.
He was going to hear it again.