Astral Zenith Academy had bells for every respectable emergency.
One bell for fire.
Two for duel injury.
Three for monster breach.
Four for noble blood spilled outside sanctioned combat.
Five for death.
The bell that rang above the western training arch did not match any number.
It rang once, stopped halfway through the note, and then rang again from beneath the floor.
Headmaster Orvyn Aurelius closed the book he had not been reading.
Across his desk, the silver-ink watch ticked backward with a sound like a patient warning losing patience.
"Gate Eleven," he said.
The sealed archive answered by turning every lock in the room at once.
Instructor Veylan stood by the window, training coat still dusted with arena sand. She had arrived five minutes before the bell, which meant either instinct had dragged her here or Orvyn had become predictable enough to alarm good soldiers.
Neither possibility pleased him.
"Gate Eleven is not on our current operational map," Veylan said.
