“I am,” Anika replied. “Go now.”

“But the Eydis Links haven’t finalized—”

“Now.”

The Guide ran into the Academy.

Anika began barking orders. “Alert the Pyralis and Tordis wings! The move begins in fifteen minutes. Everyone to their designated posts!”

Searchers darted in multiple directions.

Anika turned to face the two sets of Strikers escorting Logan and Ansel. “Take them to the stockade. We’ll deal with them later.”

“No!” Several Strikers raised their weapons when I grabbed Anika’s arm. She shook her head and they backed off.

“Calla, I understand that the boy is your brother, but until we know the truth of this matter, he must be treated with the utmost caution.”

“Even if he told them about the hideout, I’m sure he was tricked,” I said. “You don’t know what they did to him.”

She pulled her arm free. “I will know in time. But I can’t address your concern now. I’m sorry.”

She nodded to the Strikers and they led Ansel away.

“Ansel!” I began to follow them, but Shay held me back.

“Wait.”

“They’re treating him like a prisoner!” I shouted, writhing in his grasp. “This isn’t his fault. He’s been tortured. We need to help him!”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “I swear. We need Anika to know she can trust your pack. That has to come first, and then we can bring her around on Ansel.”

For her own part, Anika had turned to Connor. “Can you explain to me what happened back there?”

“Not exactly,” he muttered, pulling an envelope from inside his duster. “But Monroe asked me to give you this if he didn’t make it back.”

“He went into a mission with the idea that he wouldn’t come back?” Anika snatched the envelope. “And how did you find the young Guardians? I was under the impression that we couldn’t locate them.”

Connor spoke without meeting the Arrow’s penetrating gaze. “It was an urgent situation, Anika.”

Anika’s eyes had narrowed. “Are you telling me that Monroe led a strike into Vail without authorization?”

“Yes.”

“And now he’s dead?” She shook her head. “And we lost Denver.”

“But we got the wolves,” Ethan said, glancing at Sabine’s unmoving form. “Some of them, at least.”

“Let’s hope that makes a difference.” Before she turned away, I saw a tear slide down her cheek. “We needed Monroe.”

“I know,” Connor said, his own voice thick.

“The Guides will be waiting for me,” she said. “We’ll discuss this after the move. If we make it.”

With that she strode away.

“If we make it?” I asked.

Connor didn’t answer.

“Calla.” I turned to see Ethan with Sabine still resting in his arms. “I’m worried she might have internal injuries. I need to take her to the Elixirs.”

“The who?” Shay asked.

“Our healers,” Adne said. “They’re in the Eydis Sanctuary.”

“She might need pack blood,” I said, peering at Sabine. She wasn’t bleeding or bruised, but sometimes the wounds you couldn’t see were the most deadly kind.

Nev was hovering nearby. “I’ll go with them. She can have my blood if she needs it.”

“Okay.”

Bryn and Mason approached cautiously. At last convinced I wouldn’t chase after Ansel, Shay loosened his grasp and I pulled away from him. I knew he was being reasonable, but I hated feeling helpless about Ansel’s situation.

“What now?” Mason asked.

“You come with us,” Connor said.

The air was suddenly filled with a chorus of bell tones. The Academy pulsed with energy, the sound growing ever louder. Though piercing, the crystalline chimes had a hypnotic melody—the walls reverberated with their music. I watched as the hall began to shudder with the sound. The maze of colors threading through the marble hallways undulated with each ringing note.

Adne bolted for the stairs. “I have to get to my post!”

“What’s happening?” Bryn asked. She took my hand, trembling.

Connor led us after Adne, though unlike the Weaver, he didn’t run. “The Weavers have to move the Academy.”

“How is that possible?” Shay asked.

“It takes precise coordination.” Connor glanced back at us. “Every Weaver has to pull the same threads to open a single door in unison.”

“But how can you get the building through a door?” Shay frowned as we reached the second floor, heading to the next flight of stairs.

“The building doesn’t go through the door,” Connor said. “The Weavers move the door over the building.”

“They—they what?” I stammered.

Connor didn’t answer. He’d brought us back to the fourth floor. We found Adne standing halfway between the section of the hall that housed our bedrooms and the Haldis tactical center. With the skeans clasped in her fingers, she stood perfectly still, eyes closed, drawing slow, rhythmic breaths.

“Adne—” Shay started toward her.

“Shhh!” Connor threw an arm in front of him. “She needs to focus.”

I glanced up and down the hall, noticing another woman standing twenty feet beyond Adne. When I looked in the opposite direction, I saw a young man standing about the same distance apart.