Aleander followed the crack where it split from the courtyard path and ran toward the south wing. The pattern had been itching at him for three days now — a jagged line that kept appearing in stone, in wood grain, in the way shadows fell across his breakfast plate. It wanted him to go somewhere, and the itch wouldn't stop until he did. The crack led him past the round cream flagstones that circled the fountain, then down a narrow walk he'd never noticed before. A blue light appeared in the corner of his vision — just a mote, dancing. He'd seen it yesterday in the library, flickering between the shelves. The door fragment had been hiding inside it, shy as always. Now it bobbed ahead of him like it was leading the way. The walk ended at a building wrapped in vines, with iron fencing all around. The doors were dark wood under a stone arch, and they had no business being here. This part of the university was supposed to be classrooms, not libraries. But the crack ran straight up the steps and disappeared into the threshold, and the blue mote was already pressing against the lock. Aleander tried the handle. It opened. The itch stopped immediately, replaced by something else — a new pattern starting to form in the shadows inside. He stepped through, and the door that had spent weeks appearing in all the wrong places finally found its room.