Dong.The first bell toll hung in the air, heavy as wet wool.Dong.People paused in the streets of Arkhos, conversations trailing into silence.Dong.Three bells. The Imperial Announcement pattern.Adom stood in the crowd forming near the Hall of Justice, his recently broken arm still stiff despite the academy's nurse, Miss Thornheart's treatment. Just an hour ago, he'd been half-drowned in the ocean, locked in combat with a homunculus. Now he was here, academy uniform hastily donned, watching as the city transformed around him.I maintain this is inadvisable, came Zuni's voice in his mind. The quillick adjusted his position on Adom's shoulder, careful to maintain his balance. You should be resting.And miss whatever this is? Adom replied quietly. Not a chance.Your constitution may be exceptional, but even you have limits.Noted.A vegetable seller nearby hastily packed her cart. "Last time those bells rang like that," she muttered to no one in particular, "they raised the harbor tax to twenty percent.""Doubt it's taxes this time," replied a man with a weather-beaten face. "Not with what happened at the trial."The bells continued their monotonous call as Adom pushed deeper into the growing crowd. His right arm, though no longer bent at that sickening angle, still ached dully. The academy's nurse– Miss Thornheart –had set and treated it, her expression growing increasingly puzzled as the bone began knitting itself together faster than normal healing should allow."There you are!" Sam called, emerging from the shadow of a baker's awning. "Thought you might have drowned.""Nearly did," Adom replied, accepting Sam's firm handshake with his good arm.Sam's eyes flickered to Adom's injured arm, then to his face, searching. Whatever he saw there seemed to satisfy him. A subtle (...)