Mira was still checking him over when Asher suddenly froze. His eyes narrowed, sharp as blades.
"...Zane," Asher said slowly, "why is there a dagger sticking out of your wall?"
Zane turned his head. Sure enough, half-buried into the plaster, a steel blade gleamed under the lamplight. His own blanket was torn where it must've grazed by.
"Oh, that," Zane muttered, leaning back like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Almost forgot about it. Someone tried to stab me. Fun night, huh?"
"Almost forgot—?" Asher's voice rose a pitch. He stalked toward the wall, yanking the dagger free. The weight of it was heavy, finely crafted—not the type of blade you'd find on any average student. "This isn't from one of the boys. Hell, this isn't even Academy standard. Someone brought this in from outside."
Mira's head whipped toward Zane, horrified. "Someone tried to kill you!? And you just—just slept it off?"
Zane gave her a flat look. "Hey, in my defense, I had a killer headache, and sleep is the best medicine. Besides, it missed."
"It missed because you dodged, didn't it?!" she snapped.
Zane hesitated, then shrugged. "...details."
Asher, still examining the dagger, muttered under his breath, "This is no prank… whoever threw this knew what they were doing." He glanced toward the window's shadows, then at Zane again. "And the fact you're still breathing tells me you either got lucky—or something else is going on."
Mira frowned. "Something else?"
Asher didn't answer right away. He just slid the dagger into his belt, eyes thoughtful. "Yeah. Something else."