The dining hall felt wrong.

I noticed it the moment I walked in, the noise level was lower than usual, the kind of lower that meant people were talking but didn't want to be overheard.

Groups leaned in close over their trays. Eyes moved toward the doors and back, as if they were expecting something.

I grabbed a plate and found Lyra already at our end of the table.

"What's happening?" I asked, sitting down.

"Marcus Fell," she said quietly. "Ferox trainee. He didn't come back from night ...