Room Fourteen had to be returned empty.

Harper considered this rude.

"We improved it."

Ava looked around at the stripped beds and bare shelves. "By adding socks?"

"Atmosphere."

Their last morning in West Residence was cleaning day. Staff had already moved most trunks into the corridor, so the room looked larger than it had all year. The Bag Bed was a bed again. The desk was clear. Even Ava's labels had disappeared from the drawers.

Jasper cleaned the western window last.

Salt had dried in a pale film across the outside of the glass, and the cloth came away grey after the first pass. For a year, that window had framed nearly everything: ordinary sunsets, storm clouds, Harper arguing, Ava reading, Jasper staring toward the sea when he should have been doing homework.

Next year another first-year would stand in the same place and know none of that.

Jasper liked the thought.

Rooms should be allowed new stories.

Behind him, Harper had crawled beneath the former Bag Bed.

"Found something."

She wriggled backward and emerged holding a folded square of paper.

Ava stared. "We checked under there."

"Apparently badly."

Harper opened it.

The handwriting was large and crooked.

WEST ROOM RULES 1. DON'T LEAN OUT WINDOW 2. DON'T STEAL AVA'S PENCILS 3. JASPER HAS TO STOP FOLDING EVERYTHING

Jasper laughed. "When did we write that?"

"First week."

Ava took the paper. "Rule two remains valid."

"Rule three failed immediately," Harper said.

Jasper put the note in the history box.

They checked everything again.

Ava found one of Harper's hair ties behind a bed leg. Jasper found an old laundry token. Harper found nothing and accused the room of hiding opportunities from her.

Professor Elowen arrived with a clipboard.

"Inspection."

Harper stood at attention. "Room Fourteen ready."

Elowen checked drawers, window catches, cupboards and bed frames. There was no serious damage, which Jasper thought was an achievement considering who had lived there.

"Pass."

Harper looked disappointed. "No ceremony?"

Elowen held out her hand.

The room key hung from Harper's wrist that week. Its brass tag read WEST 14.

For once, Harper did not make a joke.

She slipped the key off and placed it in Elowen's palm.

"Thanks."

Elowen closed her fingers around it. "You're welcome."

Ava looked at the empty beds. "Who gets the room next year?"

"Admissions will decide late in summer."

"So we don't know."

"No."

Ava nodded.

Unknown no longer sounded like a problem every time she said it.

They carried the history box into the corridor.

At the West arch, Jasper looked back.

Room Fourteen's door remained open. Elowen had already gone inside again to check a window latch. There was no dramatic final closing, no strange magical sign and no reason for everyone to stop walking.

It was simply a room being prepared for somebody else.

Outside, transport staff loaded trunks onto carts.

The history box would travel with Jasper because his parents had enough car space to take it home.

Harper hated the practical explanation.

"You are Keeper of the Box."

"Until next year."

"Sacred duty."

"It contains a broken feather."

"Sacred feather."

Ava said, "If you lose it, I will never forgive you."

Jasper looked at her.

"Sacred duty."

"Correct."

They crossed the departure courtyard together.

Halfway across, Harper stopped.

"Wait."

Ava turned. "What?"

"We don't live in Room Fourteen anymore."

Jasper looked back at the residence wing.

"No."

"Brannor hasn't given us next year's rooms yet."

"We have homes," Ava said.

"Technicality. School homeless."

Jasper laughed.

Ava kept walking. "Please leave before you create a housing crisis."

Harper followed.

Jasper carried the box.