Gate Eleven did not appear on the map because maps were written by people who survived the first lie.
Gate Eleven did not exist on any academy map.
That was the first blade beneath the cloth.
The second problem was that three instructors, one clerk, and a silver-robed archivist were pretending it did.
A table had been dragged into the lower administrative hall beneath the Spire of Trials. White stone walls sweated cold moisture. Aether lamps hung in iron cages overhead, their light steady everywhere except the place where my provisional Silver access token rested beside a sealed assignment slip.
There, the flame bent away.
Excellent. Disaster remained punctual.
Even fire had better instincts than the academy.
