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"Is there a way to set them free, without letting the whole prophecy come to pass?" Meredith murmurs. She's still talking into the Book, head down. Then she pushes back the curtain of her hair to stare at Alvis. "Do you know what you've done?" she asks him.

She can't really mean what it sounds like she means. Can she?

"Caught you vandalizing Academy property, I believe," Alvis says. His expression is as studiously neutral as Meredith's as he returns to your side. "Whoever she is, if she was talking about freeing the demons just now, we really do have to get the chancellors," he says in an undertone. "If someone with any kind of demonic allegiance is present on Academy grounds and we don't report it, they'll be furious."

You're sure they will be, and their favor is too valuable to be easily discounted. But it almost sounds as if Meredith knows something about the prophecy—and about you. Staying to speak to her longer might be worth risking the chancellors' regard.

You give Alvis a furtive nod and usher him out the door.

It's hard to say how much Meredith has overheard. Her only current occupation appears to be attempting to fold the Book's pages and watching them flatten back out without so much as a crease.

"Meredith," you say, letting your tone soften as you move closer, "are you all right? You don't seem quite well."

Meredith flicks her eyes up at you and then returns to staring at the Book.

You make a few more attempts to draw her out, which she ignores. Just as you're asking in the sweetest tone you can manage if she'd like to lie down, she makes a sudden break for the door. You desperately reach out to grab her as she sprints past, but she doesn't break stride, throwing the door open in one fluid motion as she goes. A few moments later, you hear her footsteps on the stairs.

It occurs to you that she might have just distracted you without uttering a word.

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There's only one way to go from here, so you have some hope she'll run into Alvis and Chancellor Mardas on the stairwell. But as soon as they arrive, you can tell they haven't seen her.

You get your first properly-lighted glimpse of Mardas as he approaches. He's unremarkable-looking, overall: middling height, not far above forty, a tan complexion that might be from anywhere this side of the Lissian Ocean. He's blinking rapidly in the softly glowing conjured lights that line the Academy walls, and you imagine it's the first time he's been out of his basement for quite a while.

You've been watching from the doorway, and Mardas peers over your shoulder into the room. "There's no woman in there," he remarks.

Alvis is trailing behind him, looking winded. "She…was here. Jun was looking after her." He shoots you an ugly look.

"She slipped past me. Are you sure she wasn't on the stairs?" you ask.

Mardas shakes his head, still blinking. "And she can hardly have gone anywhere else." His expression is mild, but Alvis wilts. "I understand this must be a stressful time for you, but I was in the midst of important research." You honestly aren't certain if that's overstating things or not. Without another word, Mardas departs.

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