Akari’s fingers flew across the keyboard as she waited for her team’s next duel. She and the others sprawled out in a corner of the training hall, and her job was to crack the generators’ updated security.

“How much longer?” she asked the group.

“Boznak and Windstrider are still fighting,” Nico said. “Should give us at least five minutes.”

Talek. That was cutting it way too close.

Four weeks had passed since the first day of class, and true to his word, Raizen had increased the security every day. Any five-year-old could have solved that first cipher. Not only had that cipher been monoalphabetic, but they’d based the substitution shifts on keyboard position. Almost like they wanted someone to solve it in five minutes.

Which, in hindsight, had been the exact goal.

By the second week of class, the ciphers had gotten too complicated for a single person to solve between duels. Fortunately, Akari had prepared for that by installing several decoding scripts on her laptop.

Raizen’s people had also removed the whitespace in the second week, but that didn’t matter. Akari had saved backups of the original files, and she recreated the original spacing with little effort. At least until the third week when they began scrambling the order.

By the time week four rolled around, they’d begun changing the languages entirely. Instead of using Standard Object Notation like normal people, they’d pick some obscure language from three decades ago.

“Where’s Nimble?” Akari asked without looking up.

“Still on his coffee run,” Nico replied.

Nimble was a Light Artist who turned himself invisible. And yes, his parents really had named him “Nimble.” It was like they’d wanted a little assassin child.

And “coffee run” was code for spying on Arturo Kazalla’s team. Not only did Arturo know more computer science than her, but he had an aspect called craft mana. This aspect was a branch of Knowledge Arts that focused on creation, and his Second Brain technique did most of his hacking for him.

That was definitely bullshit, but she had to admit some grudging respect for the kid. He’d still won most of his fights, despite only hacking the arena one time against Elise Moonfire. Had Raizen actually barred his access, or was Arturo holding that card for a stormy day? She’d find out soon enough.

Soft footsteps echoed behind her as someone approached from the room’s main doors.

“I’ve got it,” Nimble whispered as he approached with a cardboard coffee cup. He was a thin Espirian, barely taller than Akari, with a shaved head and blond stubble on his chin.

“Finally.” Akari stopped typing and reached out to accept the cup with the small piece of paper wrapped around it.

“Kinetic Array,” the paper read.

Akari stared at it for several heartbeats, then she glared up at the Light Artist. “You fell for that?”

Nimble blinked. “Huh? Arturo said this was the language. I heard it loud and clear.”

“This isn’t a real language,” Akari said.

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to know that?”

Akari pulled out a pencil and solved the anagram on the same piece of paper. “Kinetic Array” became “Nice try Akari” on the line below it.

“Oh.” Nimble slumped his shoulders. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Akari shot Arturo a glance from across the room. He was already watching her, and he winked when their eyes met. “So much for spying.”

“I can try to glimpse his screen next,” Nimble said. He went on to say something about mirror Constructs and light beams, but Akari wasn’t listening.

“Victory,” Camila’s voice announced over a nearby speaker. “Dejan Boznak”

Grandmaster Raizen called on the next two duelists, and that put Nico next in line for his duel against Lyra Manastrike.

“Sorry,” Akari told him. “Won’t have your gear in time.”

“It’s cool,” Nico said with a bit of forced enthusiasm. “I’ll bet Manastrike doesn’t have any equipment either.”

Akari nodded as she ran various languages through her decoding script. Lyra Manastrike was on a team with Tori Raizen and Kalden, and they lacked a good hacker. Kalden had tried to fill the role during the early classes, but he couldn’t keep up with the weekly updates.

At first, she’d been skeptical of Kalden’s plan to split up. He’d been so distant all summer, and this seemed like he was finally ditching Akari and Relia for a new group of friends. But he’d explained his reasoning, and it made sense. Tori Raizen’s alliance had over thirty people, and she’d made Kalden their general. Not only did this give him influence over Tori’s faction, but it also put him in a position to deal with the other leaders.

Best of all, no one knew about his allegiance to Akari and Relia. They’d all watched their share of the qualifying rounds by now, and secrets were just as important as raw power when it came to victory.

Everything had worked out for Akari, too. She used her hacking skills to help Nico’s team get equipment in class. In exchange, she got a spot on their team for the actual qualifying rounds. She took the bigger risk in that deal, but she couldn’t complain. As the only non-Apprentice this year, she was lucky just to have an alliance.

Or a fake alliance, at least. Shit would hit the fan during the qualifying rounds when people started betraying each other left and right. For now, at least she got to hack rather than deal with politics.

That was Kalden’s job.

~~~

Kalden reclined on his cushioned throne, while the evening sun streamed in from the stained glass windows behind him. He wore a custom-tailored suit with a white dress shirt beneath. A glass of corzi sat on the wood table in front of him, along with a copy of his team’s ledgers.

He’d originally set up here as a private joke—an homage to the way he’d held court outside Elegan High. The setup made him miss Darren and Maelyn more than ever. Those two had a gift for gathering information, and he could have used their help and these elaborate games of spies and betrayals.

What’s more, true friends were rarer than Mystics in this world. Instead, Kalden’s new teammates sat on either side of his throne—Tori Raizen and Lyra Manastrike. They might have put Kalden in charge of the Blood Army, but he didn’t trust either of them.

The wooden door swung open as a henchman stepped inside; Kalden thought his name was Aaron. “Brisco Dracez is here to see you, General.”

“Excellent. Send him in.”

Aaron pushed the door open wider, and a Cadrian-Espirian boy sauntered inside. Most people either gawked or rolled their eyes when they saw the throne room. Brisco was a gawker.

“Mr. Dracez.” Kalden raised a hand and beckoned the young man inside.

Brisco took a few more strides until he stood in the center of the room. The center was easy to find because they’d hung a dim spotlight over it. The only other lights were the fireplace and the evening sun that shone through the orange windows.

“I’ll get straight to it,” Kalden said. “We know you’re a paid spy for the Moon Army. I’d like to know how much Moonfire is paying you.”

“What?” Brisco blurted out the word as if he’d rehearsed it a dozen times. “Why would I spy for her?”

“Relax,” Kalden said. “I’m not asking for a confession. How about this—if you were a spy, how much would Elise Moonfire be paying you?”

His nervous eyes darted back and forth.

“It’s not a trick,” Tori spoke up from Kalden’s right. “Just answer the question.”

“She wouldn’t pay me,” Brisco said. “Financial incentives are against the rules—”

“—of Grandmaster Raizen’s class,” Kalden finished for him. “But this isn’t about winning duels in class. This is about Moon Army and Blood Army.”

“Two hundred espers a week,” Brisco finally said. “And a spot in Moon Army if I get caught.”

“Good,” Kalden said with a nod. That was about the number he’d expected. Brisco wasn’t the type to have secrets, which ruled out blackmail. He was also a big spender, and he went on shopping sprees every Kelsday after his secret meetings. Today, he wore a new pair of Palamin’s shoes that probably increased his running speed and jumping height. Even from five feet away, Kalden could smell the new rubber from the soles.

“And what would Miss Moonfire ask about in these hypothetical meetings?” he asked.

Brisco shrugged. “Her biggest concern would be spies—she’d want to know if you had any double agents working in Moon Army.” He paused. “She’d also want to know about your relationship with Zeller and Dawnfire.”

Figures. Elise had been interested in Akari all semester. They still didn’t know why, but it probably came from that organization that tried to bar her entry to the Artegium.

“Here’s my offer,” Kalden said. “Keep spying for Elise Moonfire and feed her whatever you dig up on Zeller and Dawnfire. As for Blood Army’s strategies—step into the dining room after this. You’ll see a reserved booth near the door. Pull up the cushion and you’ll find an envelope there. You can either give that to Miss Moonfire, or you can read it and pass along the parts you want. Do this, and I’ll match what she’s paying you. Twice the money for half the work.”

They spent the next few minutes hammering out the details. If Brisco pulled this off, he’d have more opportunities to work as a double agent. But if he did get caught, then Blood Army would pay him nothing. Kalden never explained how he’d know the results.

Brisco eventually went about his business for the night, leaving Kalden alone with his two colonels.

“This won’t work.” Lyra Manastrike reclined in her chair on Kalden’s left, swirling a glass of sparkling white wine. She had long red hair like Relia, but her color obviously came out of a bottle. “Moonfire will know he’s lying. Either that, or he’ll spill the whole story.”

Tori hummed in vague agreement. “Even if Moonfire falls for it, what’s in it for us?”

Kalden smiled. “Exactly.”

They both stared at him, and Kalden leaned back in his seat. “Do you know the story of Emperor Hiloto of South Shoken?” At their silence, he continued. “Like many emperors, Hiloto sought immortality. But rather than ascending through Mana Arts, Hiloto sought to achieve his goal with alchemy. He experimented with elixirs, training his immune system to battle any virus or bacteria. Even aging was just a disease in his eyes.”

“And he failed,” Lyra guessed.

That was indeed the obvious guess. If the emperor had succeeded, he might still be alive today, and the rest of the world would have followed his lead.

“His plan worked as expected,” Kalden said. “But he didn’t know about autoimmunity. His elixirs turned his cells into perfect killing machines, like an army of assassins with no targets. Eventually, his body destroyed itself from within.”

“There is no plot,” Tori finally realized. “But Moonfire will look for one.”

Kalden nodded. “Maybe she’ll meet with Brisco next Kelsday and know he’s lying. Maybe she’ll obsess over the contents of that envelope ...”

“What’s in there?” Lyra asked.

“Some of the information is real,” Kalden said. “Most of it is stuff she already knows or expects. Other parts are downright ridiculous, outing members of Moonfire’s inner circle as spies. Either way, time is a valuable resource in this game, and she’ll waste hers worrying about us.”

A second later, Henchman Aaron popped his head back into the room. “General Trengsen? Elise Moonfire is out on the sidewalk.”

“Excellent,” Kalden said. “Send her in when she gets here.”

Tori stood up and headed for the back door. “Well, that’s my cue to scram.”

“Scared of a Dream Artist?” Kalden asked.

“We went to high school together. She gets under my skin.”

Kalden gave a slow nod. “Just as well. She might try to play us against each other if she sees two leaders.”

“Sounds like you’ve got her figured out.” Tori pushed open the door and waved with her fingers. “Good luck.”

Elise Moonfire glided through the doorway a minute later. She wore a dress of violet-dyed dragon scales, and her golden hair fell in impossible curls around her exposed cleavage. Clouds of dream mana surrounded her, and he wondered how much of her appearance was real.

“Seriously?” Elise looked around with an elaborate eye roll. “You built a throne room? In the back of a bar?”

Kalden chuckled as if it were the silliest idea in the world. “My older brother is friends with the owner. She makes stained glass as a hobby.”

Elise raised a golden eyebrow. “And the furniture?”

“Custom-made by the local throne-maker.” Kalden had dealt with Elise Moonfire a few times now, and it was far better to roll with her punches. If she sensed weakness—or even excuses—she’d keep pressing until it hurt. Even now, he felt her dream mana surrounding him like a storm cloud, trying to twist his emotions.

“Adorable,” she replied. “I hope you never grow up.” Elise glanced at the empty chair on Kalden’s right, then her blue eyes danced toward Lyra. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

Lyra immediately stiffened. “It’s not like that.”

“No …” Elise drew out the word like a dramatic sigh. “It’s not, is it? You’ve been following Tori around since high school, but she only cares about her training, doesn’t she? Not like Kalden here. He’s in love with Akari Zeller. Some say he intends to betray the Blood Army for her.”

Unlike Lyra, Kalden didn’t flinch. He might have shown a reaction if Elise had caught him off guard, but he’d predicted his opponent’s move and planned for it. Elise Moonfire didn’t concern herself with the truth—she made bold statements to steer people where she wanted. In this case, the gibe had been for Lyra’s benefit—sewing the seeds of distrust between them.

Kalden raised the glass of corzi to his lips. “Zeller, huh? I wondered which rumor you preferred. Personally, I like the one where it’s me and your sister.”

Elise’s smile stiffened. She couldn’t deny her relationship with Relia without showing the same weakness she sought in others.

“Yeah,” Kalden said. “We can gossip about rumors all night. But we normally get straight to business in the Blood Army. Not all of us can pay to have our homework done.”

“What sort of business?” she asked.

“Our mutual enemy—Zukan Kortez and his Sun Army. I met with him last night.”

Elise put her hands on her hips. “Did you now?”

“I told him about Moon Army’s secret alliance with Blood Army.”

“What alliance?”

“Exactly,” Kalden said. “But he believed it. That’s the thing about Zukan—he grew up as a poor dragon in Vaslana. He had to fight for everything he has, and he thinks rich kids like us always stick together.”

“Arturo Kazalla is advising him,” she countered. “Zukan might have the social skills of a starfish, but he’s smart enough to know what he doesn’t know.”

“And he’s stubborn,” Kalden agreed. “He’d sooner go down in a blaze of glory than ally with someone he despises. But you said it yourself—he’s got Arturo on his side. And Arturo knows you’re the biggest shark in the sea.”

Elise gave a thin smile. “You expect me to believe you two are ganging up on Moon Army?”

“It is hard to believe,” Kalden said. “I like Arturo just fine, but I don’t trust Zukan or his idealists. That’s why I invited you here.”

“To see if I’ll give you a better offer?”

Kalden shrugged. “Three armies leaves us with quite a dilemma. A loose alliance is the sure path to victory, but betraying your ally is a surer path still.”

Her face hardened. “This is all bullshit, isn’t it? You know you’ve got the weakest faction, so you’re trying to make as much chaos as you can. It won’t work, you know. You won’t win without the numbers.”

She was right on the first account, but wrong about the second. Chaos was inevitable in this game. Kalden had watched the recordings of seventy-three qualifying rounds, and things were always more chaotic than the players expected. Some years, they’d even conducted studies that measured the students’ expectations against the actual game. Things were roughly twice as chaotic as people expected beforehand.

That meant the only reliable plan was to assume most plans would fail.

Elise must have known that too. Even so, a part of her still believed her own words. She couldn’t beat Zukan or Tori in a straight fight, but she still believed in the combined might of her inner circle.

“I might have the smallest army,” Kalden said. “But we both know yours is the least unified. I’ve trained mine to fight as a unit, and Zukan has united the commonfolk against the oppressive rich kids. What do you have, Miss Moonfire?

“You only think what I want you to think,” Elise said with a dismissive wave. “You don’t even have any spies in my army, do you, General Trengsen?”

There it was—the question he’d been hoping for—served up on a silver platter. It seemed like good luck, but it was all by design. Kalden had planned to meet with Brisco Dracez before Elise. He’d wanted her to see her own spy walking out of his chamber, maybe even retrieving the envelope from beneath the cushion. Then he’d let himself blunder through this talk, building her confidence until she finally made her move.

Elise held his gaze as strands of dream mana danced around the room. Kalden had allowed this as well. He could have installed an anti-dream mana Construct to block her techniques. Then she couldn’t use her aspect to sort the truth from the lies.

Lying to a Dream Artist was hard. You needed complete control of your body, thoughts, and emotions. But faking a lie was easy. Dream Artists sought lies like hunters on the prowl. And when humans sought evidence, they usually found it whether or not it was real.

And so Kalden thought of Brisco—the closest thing he had to an actual spy. He focused on his confidence in his own plans, but also on his fear of failure. When he spoke, the truth sounded and felt exactly like a lie.

“You’re right. I have no spies in Moon Army. Your friends are surprisingly loyal.”

Elise’s expression made it all worth it.