Saturday arrived the way competition days did when everything was actually ready — quietly, without the frantic energy of last-minute preparation, with the particular stillness of a thing that had been built toward for a long time and had finally arrived at its own weight.
William was awake at five again.
He lay still for a moment and listened to the academy.
Even at this hour it was different from a normal morning — a different quality of quiet, fuller somehow, the way a space felt different when it contained more people than usual even when those people were sleeping.
Three additional academies' worth of students in guest accommodations across the grounds, all of them with the same orientation toward tomorrow that had been building all week.
Today. Not tomorrow anymore. Today.
He dressed without rushing and went to the window.
