Morning drills moved clean. No one mentioned Verrin in the open, but the story hung in the air like smoke that hadn't found a fire yet. Cael and I ran a quiet spar and stopped before pride made us stupid. Gareth brought bread and salt like he was practicing to be someone's uncle. Pelham showed up with his hat stitched and said nothing, which was the right amount.
At mid-bell, the messenger flags went up on the admin tower—white over blue. Pierce's voice followed a breath later, amplified by the speaking cone.
"Notice," he said. "Due to yesterday's interference, Ridge Relay adjustments stand. This afternoon's sector will be replaced by a check-run: short course, three obstacles, focus on restraint and communication. Captains report to the board in ten."
"Short course," Gareth said. "Thank all Saints."
"Don't thank them yet," I said.
