Akari’s fingers flew across the keyboard as she traveled the dark web. Kyzar had lent them a laptop just like he’d promised, along with a hotel room to prepare for the upcoming battle.

And of course, that hotel sat right in the enemy’s path.

Explosions echoed from outside as the Grevandi drew closer, gaining ground on the bridge between the two territories. The Unmarked stalled their progress with barriers, but that wouldn’t last for long. They only had to hold out long enough for the noncombatants to escape, then the fighting would start in earnest.

The bathroom door swung open, and Relia emerged in a cloud of pale steam. Her red hair was a wet and tangled mess, falling all the way to her waist.

“How's the dark web?” she asked.

“No luck,” Akari said. She’d already sent over two dozen messages, promising a reward to anyone who put them in touch with Irina Darklight. But no matter how much she spammed, everyone else had the same idea. Her call for help got lost in a sea of alchemy dealers, money-making schemes, and other shady links. To make matters worse, Irina shared the name of a famous Angel, so this resulted in countless jokes.

The internet really sucked sometimes.

Relia strode over to the bed and pulled on her black combat fatigues. Kyzar had given them three sets, complete with vests and helmets. This gear was all Apprentice level, capable of absorbing several Missiles, and far stronger than anything they’d worn on Arkala.

Unfortunately, Kyzar couldn’t fix Akari’s broken glasses. Her right lens was still missing, and it felt like she was staring at the computer screen from underwater. She’d tried cycling mana to her eyes—that helped with the headache, but not her vision.

How had Dream Akari fixed this problem? Had a Restoration Artist fixed her eyes? Or maybe she’d just worn contacts? Either way, this was number one on the priority list when she reached Espiria. Assuming they didn’t shipwreck in three more countries along the way.

Someone knocked on the outer door. Relia skipped across the room, looked through the peephole, then pulled it open.

“Happy Midwinter, everyone.” Kalden raised a plastic grocery bag as he stepped inside.

“Oh!” Relia clasped her hands together. “I hope you got me a hairbrush.” That seemed like a joke at first, but then she paused, staring up at Kalden's perfectly styled hair. “Wait a second …”

Kalden cleared his throat and looked away.

Relia sniffed the air around him. “Are you wearing cologne too?”

"Maybe."

"How? Our bathroom didn't have any of that."

"I went down to the concierge's desk," he said.

“I thought they all evacuated.”

“They did, but I grabbed the lost and found box from under the desk.”

"For Talek's sake," Akari muttered as she pasted more text in the chat room. "Are you two for real?"

“What else was in there?” Relia asked.

“Not much.” He shrugged. “Just a brush, a hairdryer, and—”

Relia thrust out her hand. “Give me your room key.”

Kalden fumbled to get his card from his back pocket. Relia snatched it and disappeared out the door.

Guess that's a yes. The Grevandi would be here in less than an hour, and they were worried about their freaking hair.

Kalden closed the door behind him, and Akari raised an eyebrow as he approached the bed.

“You guys late for the school dance?” she asked.

A smile flashed across his face. “Maybe I’m trying to impress my crush.”

Damnit. She couldn’t help but smile back at that, even if it wasn’t true. Kalden had always spent too much time on his looks. She’d be more impressed if he just shaved his head and called it good.

The cologne did smell nice, though.

Relia returned a second later with a cardboard box. She headed straight for the bathroom and started brushing and blow-drying her hair.

“Anyway.” Kalden sat on the other bed and pulled two tiny glass bottles from the grocery bag.

Akari eyed the bottles suspiciously as he placed them on the nightstand. “Those better be for combat,” she said. If they were skincare products, she was taking her kiss back.

“They’re called allnighters,” Kalden said. “There was a whole box of them downstairs.”

“Allnighters?” She perked up at that. “Are they like coffee?"

"Better. Caffeine just fights drowsiness. This takes care of the rest too—reaction time, willpower, fatigue. It basically mimics all the effects of a full night’s sleep.”

“What’s the catch?”

“It’s only safe in moderation—like once a week. Plus it catches up with you when it wears off, then you’ll be twice as tired as before.”

Akari nodded as she unscrewed one of the metal caps. They’d already been awake all day, so they’d need this if they planned to fight all night.

“Oh,” Kalden said. “And some people pass out their first time. The effects are so close to sleep that your brain gets confused.”

Akari paused with the bottle halfway to her mouth.

“But that’s rare,” he clarified. “And it only lasts a few minutes.”

Akari shrugged as she took a drink. She was already reclined against the headboard so passing out didn’t seem that dangerous. Better than dying in combat from slow reaction times.

The potion went down smoother than she’d expected. Healing potions always made her want to gag, but this was surprisingly sweet. Even Relia drank a bottle when she got out of the bathroom. Apparently, these were all natural ingredients, so it didn’t bother her the way most alchemy did.

Fighting her condition had probably taken a shitload of willpower too, even if she pretended to be fine.

Akari continued posting messages in the chatrooms, and Kalden spread out a map on the other bed, guessing at the Grevandi’s tactics.

“You sure you’re okay with being the bait?” he asked Relia. “Kyzar will understand if we tell him no.”

Relia nodded from the end of the bed where she sat braiding her hair. “Hector was a jerk, but he wasn’t totally wrong. I started this, so it’s only fair.”

“You don’t owe the Unmarked anything,” Kalden countered. “They’ve been fighting long before we got here.”

True. If anything, the Unmarked owed them for the work they’d done. Kyzar could have avoided this battle if he’d given them a computer sooner. Then again, maybe this was his plan all along?

Kyzar hadn’t benefited from Irina Darklight’s arrival before. Now, she might turn the tide of this whole battle. It was risky, but Akari had faced worse odds against the Martials.

“I want to,” Relia said. “What if those Artisans kill someone else instead? I couldn’t live with myself If I ran.”

Relia tied off her braid, then she moved to flank Akari, armed with a wooden brush.

“What the hell?” Akari scooted toward the edge of the bed, but that wasn’t easy with the computer balanced on her lap.

“Your hair’s bothering me.”

“Who cares? I’ll have a helmet on.” Unlike Relia’s hair, Akari’s barely fell past her chin. She normally spent a few minutes brushing it after her showers, but she had more important things today. Like calling Irina Darklight and saving an entire city.

“Just hold still.”

Akari thought about raising a defensive Construct, but Relia continued. “I’m nervous about the fight, okay? I need to stay busy.”

“Fine.” Akari leaned forward with a glare. “But you owe me.”

“Yay!” Relia started brushing the knots free. “I’ve always wanted a little sister.”

Way too clingy. No wonder she’d scared off all her friends before.

Kalden chuckled at the exchange, but that didn’t bother her. At least he was acting like his normal self and not that mindless drone he’d been in Last Haven.

He’d told her his revelation, and it made perfect sense in hindsight. Now why couldn’t she find hers? Akari had gone through dozens of phrases in her head, but her soul hadn’t reacted the way Kalden’s had. Now, the gap between them was wider than ever. Akari might even be the weakest Artist in this battle.

The minutes dragged on, and the explosions grew louder outside. Talek. They were running out of time, and people kept ignoring her messages.

Akari still had a backup plan that involved spilling their whole story in a single message. Word had to eventually reach Elend wife that way. But then the Dragonlord would know too, and they’d lose the element of—

Akari froze as several browser windows closed in rapid succession.

She scrambled to move her cursor, but it was frozen in place.

Shit. She’d been careful about security before, but this was a different world, and the technology was decades ahead.

A light flickered above her monitor, and she noticed the tiny webcam there for the first time. She tried to power down the whole computer just as a video took over her screen.

A middle-aged Cadrian woman stared back at her. She had an olive complexion, with silky black hair that fell past her shoulders. She sat perfectly straight in her tall leather chair, eying them with a piercing gaze

“This is Irina Darklight.” She spoke in a rich northern accent that reminded her of Elend. “Who are you, and where’s my husband?”

~~~

“Someone’s coming,” Glim said from her place in the cell mirror

“Aye,” Elend replied as he strode over. “I hear them.” He’d been feeding her mana nonstop for the past few weeks, bringing her closer to her former power. Her reflection had as much detail as a human’s now, despite her skin’s pale blue tint.

More importantly, she could perform Master-level dream techniques—something Elend couldn’t do with his cuffs. In all the years they’d been together, they’d never had a power balance quite like this. But this was the only way to pull off his plan. Even once his cuffs came off, he and the Dragonlord would swear oaths not to oppose one another. Antano would get the cuffs by default, and all of Cadria would suffer.

“I’m counting on you,” he told Glim. “We all are.”

“You worry too much.” She winked at him with a pale blue eye. “I’ve got this.”

Elend pulled her into his soul, cutting off the communication between them.

The Fangs arrived a few seconds later, escorting Elend upstairs to the Dragonlord’s throne room. As usual, the massive chamber was filled with golden ostentation, from the furniture to the trim. But he had to admit, the view of Tureko’s skyline was far more impressive after sunset. Even the golden trim served as a striking contrast to the night sky.

Several monitors hung from the walls around the room, and each one showed a different image of Relia fighting the Claws. One showed a hotel bathroom, while the rest showed a fight on the bridge.

He’d already seen this footage through Glim’s eyes, and he knew his apprentice had escaped safely. Unfortunately, this meant Antano finally knew her identity. Probably Kalden’s and Akari’s, too.

Another screen showed live footage of the Grevandi clashing with the Unmarked on the bridge. Antano faced this monitor with his back to Elend, hands clasped behind his back. “Barbaric, Isn’t it?”

For a tyrant, he was incredibly self aware.

Lena Cavaco had set up a wooden desk to work, and Elend took his seat across from her. She’d already bonded with four of the cuffs, and most of the collar. If everything worked out, then all five artifacts would come off tonight.

“My kin and I were once the victims of such riots,” Antano said. “We once fought for basic rights before I rose to power. Schools refused to teach us Mana Arts. Employers refused to hire us, and hospitals refused to treat our wounds. It never mattered how far we advanced. Angry mobs of humans were always there to force us out.”

He spun to face the rest of the chamber, stretching out his wings and taking up five times more space than an ordinary man. The windows reflected him on all sides, amplifying the effect even further. “Now, my race stands at the vanguard of such mobs. They attack those with different beliefs because of some dogma they heard about safety, or the greater good.” He waved a clawed hand. “In doing so, they’ve become the very thing they despised.”

Elend inclined his head. “This might be a silly question, but why don’t you stop the fighting? You’re the most powerful being in Creta.”

“You think I’d be the most powerful being if I stopped it?”

Elend had heard that argument before. Not from Antano, but from other rulers throughout history. He’d probably call Unida a herd of sheep who yearned to be ruled, then he’d call Liberta a group of rebels who needed a cause. He’d quote Presidenta Collaza, claiming they all wanted war deep down, and he couldn’t stand in their way.

“They all crave this conflict in their hearts,” the Dragonlord said. “Who am I to stand in their way?”

Aye, that was the quote. Well, two could play at that game.

“What good is power,” Elend began, “if you don’t change the world for the better? Too many powerful Artists cower in fear, afraid to risk what they have. They claim they’ll make the world better tomorrow. Tomorrow, when their enemies are vanquished and their rules are secure. But tomorrow never comes, and they tell themselves that story until they die.”

“Agramonte’s Virtue of Courage,” the Dragonlord said with a nod. “It’s good advice if you plan to die someday. But we’re Grandmasters, aren’t we? We both have a chance to ascend.”

Elend broke out into a laugh. Every guard in the room stiffened, and even Lena paused from her Ethersmthing work. “You don’t see the contradiction, do you?”

Antano’s boots echoed against the obsidian tiles as he stepped closer, looking more amused than offended.

“You criticize your own subjects,” Elend said, “claiming they pursue battle for battle’s sake. But you have no cause or purpose that drives you. You’ll never ascend that way.”

Elend wouldn’t normally interrupt his enemy while he was making a mistake. But Axel Antano was a minor player in the grand scheme of things. And Elend wasn’t trying to convince him of anything. He just had to convince the Ethersmith sitting across from him. Lena couldn’t betray the Dragonlord with her soul oath—they all knew that—but Elend played a far longer game than that.

Antano gave a wide smile, showing a set of human-like teeth. “It’s been years since anyone’s spoken that way to me. Even the Wings aren’t so bold. But I know my final revelation.”

Unlikely. The final revelation was the biggest contradiction of all. And words were cheap. Like all revelations, you had to prove it with action.

“But we’re not here to discuss ascension,” he continued. One monitor switched images, settling on Relia and Akari’s faces in the hotel bathroom. Elend kept his own expression blank as he examined the footage.

“These are your students. Aren’t they?”

Elend remained silent, but it seemed more like a rhetorical question.

Antano’s wings rose and fell in a shrug-like motion. “I’ve kept my word from our first meeting. My people have left your students alone, but I can’t stop them from putting themselves in danger.”

“You can stop the fighting,” Elend said.

“I don’t command the Grevandi.”

“But they will listen to your orders.”

Antano shook his head, and his mouth curled up into a smile. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Fine.” Elend gestured to the collar around his neck. “What if I agree to give you this?” They’d originally agreed that Antano would get the four cuffs while Elend kept the collar. He’d held that card close to his chest, prepared for a moment like this.

“No.” Antano’s voice cut through the air like a dagger. “I can’t stop the Grevandi from attacking. Even if I wanted to.”

He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

“But there’s another way. Allow my Wings to retrieve your students. We can bring them here where they’ll be safe.

As hostages. Not only would the Dragonlord get the collar in that case, but he’d stop Elend’s plans to circumvent him.

Elend glanced back at the monitor. He and Irina had never had children, but Relia was the closest thing they’d ever had to a daughter. Was this what being a parent felt like? He could intervene and guarantee her safety, but he might doom thousands more to death as the Dragonlord unleashed his new artifacts against the world.

Or he could trust Relia to save herself. Was she ready for a conflict like this? Even the Martials had beaten her in the prison, and they were only Foundations.

Her aspect made her one of the deadliest killers in the world. Certainly the deadliest Apprentice. And she’d just released her greatest technique in battle today—a technique she’d sworn she’d never use. These experiences had strengthened her, and she’d need that strength to reach Artisan in the coming year.

“Or you can roll the dice with their lives,” Antano said after a long pause. “But one of your students—the Shokenese girl—killed my nephew’s friend.”

That would be Valeria's son. Elend remembered him from his first day in this tower.

The Dragonlord smiled again. “I’ve ordered the boy not to seek vengeance, but he’s always been … insubordinate. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the battlefield tonight.”