Kalden gathered up their belongings while Akari fumbled with her glasses and helmet.

  The tremors grew more violent over the next few minutes, and the lights went dark. The television toppled off the dresser, shattering its glass screen on the carpet. The lamps came next, and the window broke into a web of cracks. He’d half expected the backup power to kick in, but there was nothing but pure blackness. And as the hum of the building faded, the sounds of battle grew even louder than before.

  Kalden’s heart thumped painfully against his ribs. No power meant no defensive sigils. Staying here had made sense twenty minutes ago, but he’d rather die in battle than from a collapsing ceiling. Kalden wasn’t sure he believed in an afterlife, but he could still imagine his father’s disapproving gaze when he got there.

  They jogged through the hallway, using their flashlights to illuminate their path. Akari kept up, but she seemed far quieter than usual.

  How could he help her? She’d clearly been traumatized by her last dream. His own dreams had left him shocked too, especially after his more intense fights. But this was different. Akari blamed herself for Last Haven’s destruction. How could a thirteen-year-old affect something on that scale?

  Then again, Kalden’s own memories from that day were a blur. He remembered a solid black form in the sky, shrouding the world with his mana. But why had that happened? Who would attack them? And why send them all to the Archipelago instead of killing them?

  It didn’t matter now. Despite these fresh memories, Akari seemed no closer to having her revelation. That meant they would have to survive with the tools they had.

  They were halfway down the corridor when blasts of fire mana flashed through the junction up ahead. Shouts followed as the two sides clashed, and the lights cast long shadows over the plaster walls.

  Kalden grabbed Akari’s arm and pulled them both into a recession between two vending machines. He clicked off his flashlight, and she did the same.

  “How’d they get up here?” he asked.

  “Dragons can fly.” Akari’s voice came out flat—nothing like her usual, feisty self.

  Grevandi couldn’t technically fly, but he saw her point. Fire artists like Kyzar could launch themselves several stories in the air, and the Unmarked couldn’t guard every window at once.

  The mana flew faster up ahead as one side pushed the other back. The hall went dark a second later, and the sounds faded as the losing side retreated. Several reptilian voices followed, all speaking Cadrian.

  “Let’s try the other way,” he said to Akari. They left their hiding place and fled back down the hall, away from the approaching Grevandi. They barely made it ten paces before another dragon blocked their path.

  Kalden relaxed his vision as they skidded to a halt. He’d hoped to see a Gold’s soul shining within the dragon’s chest, but he should have known better. This was an Apprentice. Staring into that light was like staring into the heart of a fire. No way they could—

  Akari stepped forward and hurled a Missile.

  Their opponent lashed out in the same moment, unleashing a burst of crimson flame. Akari’s Missile flattened into a shield, mere inches from the dragon’s extended arm. Her mana shattered from the impact, but it also stopped the fire. The dragon let out a bird-like scream as he burned his own hand.

  Kalden seized the distraction and rushed forward. Pure mana gathered in his right palm as he ran, forming into a ten-inch blade with a cylindrical handle. This wasn’t true blade mana, but pure mana could take on many forms. Elend had even formed it into a grappling hook back on Arkala.

  The blade flashed downward in a vertical strike of blue light, aiming for the dragon’s wrist. If this were another Gold, the cut would have taken off his hand. But his opponent shone like burning metal as he Cloaked his arm. Kalden’s technique broke the skin, but it stopped short of muscle or bone.

  The dragon spun low on the ground, and fire swirled around him in orange rings. The motion seemed absurd at first, like a scene from an action movie.

  Then something hard snapped into Kalden’s stomach, and he flew backward. His mana turned to mist as he slammed back-first into the tile floor. Kalden blinked up and realized he’d been hit by the dragon’s tail. Only one in ten Grevandi had tails, but apparently this was one of them.

  Several explosions followed as Akari fired her Martial pistol. The bullets ricocheted off the dragon’s armor, and he hurled another fiery Missile her way. She dropped to the floor and threw a blast of mana upward. This knocked the attack off course, straight into the ceiling.

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  Kalden rolled backward, barely avoiding a burst of fire that would have burned off his legs. The dragon threw two more punches as he regained his footing. Kalden sidestepped the first blow, blocking the next one with a flash of pure mana. The dragon was strong, but his skill was sloppy compared to Relia’s.

  Besides, Kalden wasn’t just some rich kid from Arkala who’d gotten in over his head. He was a career duelist—a blade artist who’d trained since before he could walk. Those memories had been sealed away before, but now they flowed through him like the blood in his veins.

  He could do better than this.

  Kalden opened his right hand, and the mana gathered in a whisper. He pushed on the center and pulled on the edges, sharpening it into a perfect blade. He filled the weapon with even more mana as they fought, and it grew denser by the second. Subtle movements of his fingers sharpened the edge to an even finer point. By the time he’d finished, the tip must have been as thin as a single molecule.

  He lunged forward, but the dragon spun his body and slid from the weapon’s reach. His tail came around for another pass, but Kalden ducked his head, feeling the rush of wind as it passed over him. Then he raised his blade and cut through the green skin, releasing a gush of crimson.

  The dragon didn’t scream this time, but his green lips pulled back in a snarl. They circled each other in the small space, trading slashes and strikes. Mana split through the air, sounding like static and snapping whips.

  They’d barely fought for ten seconds, but he doubted most Golds could last this long against an Apprentice. Fire closed in from a dozen different angles. Kalden strained his own channels as he blocked and deflected with bursts of pure mana. His throat grew dry, and his lungs burned.

  A fever-like heat sank into his muscles, and the movements became too hard to follow. If not for his old instincts, Kalden would have died a dozen times over. But he kept fighting, honing his focus on this single conflict. He didn’t see Akari or the others in the hallway. He didn’t hear the battle in the streets or the clash of Artisans below. Just this fight.

  The dragon threw another flaming punch. Kalden made a shield with his free hand, hitting his opponent’s arm and redirecting his aim. Then he seized the opening and swiped his blade over the dragon’s throat.

  The strike drew blood, but his opponent’s Cloak stopped the blade from going too deep. Slashes weren’t good enough. He needed a clean, straight cut to finish him.

  He saw Akari approach from the corner of his eye.

  “Get the helmet,” he shouted to her.

  Akari leapt on the dragon’s back, wrapping her legs around his stomach. The dragon slammed his back into the wall, but she held on, unfastening his helmet and pulling it up to his forehead.

  Kalden rushed forward, holding his blade in one hand, and forming a quick shield in the other.

  The dragon hit him with a burst of flame, but Kalden didn’t slow his charge. His shield broke from the impact, and the fire tore through his armor. He felt like he’d been kicked by a raptor, and the heat burned hotter than any stove.

  He pushed through the pain and thrust his blade into the dragon’s right eye. Another shriek followed, and more fire gathered in the dragon’s palm. Kalden pushed harder, forcing all his mana into the blade.

  It sank deeper, cutting through his skull. His opponent’s Cloak shattered, and his body fell limp. All three of them collapsed into a tangle of limbs on the floor.

  But the building itself didn’t rest. If anything, it only seemed to shake harder. Sections of the floor caved in farther down the hallway. Wooden pillars broke like kindling, and lightbulbs shattered in their fixtures.

  The dragon’s body twitched, and Kalden and Akari each scrambled away.

  Then the floor broke between them as two forms flew upward like a geyser. It looked like Valdez and another dragon, but they were gone a split second later, soaring straight through the ceiling.

  Another blast sounded from the lobby below. The entire building split apart, revealing a cross section of wood, concrete, and pipes. A canyon formed between Kalden and Akari, at least ten feet wide. His eyes fell to the lobby below where Kyzar fought with another Artisan. Fire and smoke rose from the battle, and furniture rained from above as both halves of the building drifted farther away.

  The walls buckled behind him, and fragments of the ceiling collapsed. He stared at the wreckage in stunned silence. He’d seen his share of battles, but this was—

  “Kalden!” Akari’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Jump!”

  She was right. Her side of the building fared much better than his. Kalden broke into a run and leapt across the canyon. Time seemed to slow as he flew. Furniture continued falling around him . . .

  Then something struck his helmet. The impact snapped his neck downward, and his body lost its momentum. His arms flailed as he lost all sense of direction.

  Someone grabbed his right arm, and he looked up to see Akari hanging on with both hands. She’d left the safety of the floor and knelt on a piece of angled concrete.

  “Damnit,” she said through gritted teeth. “Why are you so heavy?”

  Kalden grabbed a nearby pipe with his left hand. It hardly seemed solid, but neither was Akari. She’d gotten stronger this last year, but he still had fifty pounds on her. Not to mention the twenty pounds of armor he wore.

  The pipe groaned under his weight, then broke free, hitting Kalden in the forehead.

  Akari strained, but she couldn’t lift him up over the ledge. She had no handholds, and her boots were slipping.

  “Let go!” he told her. “I’ll be fine.”

  She shook her head, pulling harder.

  Kalden felt her body slip closer to the edge, and he reached up and grabbed the strap on his glove.

  “Don’t you dare!” She sounded more angry than afraid.

  Kalden didn’t hesitate or even look down—he might kill them both if he did that. His hand slid free from the glove, and his body plummeted into the chasm below.