The courtyard had emptied faster than usual.
Afternoon sessions were over, but no one lingered. No half-formed study groups. No clumps of students wasting time before dinner. Just abandoned gear and scattered footprints in the grit.
Merlin stood still, letting the breeze pass through the gap between the west and north wings. The leaves from the hedge rustled dryly, twitching in odd pulses. Not rhythmic. Not natural.
His boots scraped lightly as he moved again. No plan. Just instinct. A slow circle around the edge of the courtyard, eyes flicking across the ground.
No new cracks. But the ones from earlier looked worse in shadow. More like veins now. Hairline fractures that branched off in directions stone shouldn't break.
He paused near a lamp post. Old brass. Lightly dented near the base. He ran a finger along its surface, feeling for heat.
Cold.
Too cold.
It had been sitting in sunlight for hours.
