“Alright,” Lena announced. “I’m ready.”

  Elend drew in a deep breath, and the Dragonlord strode over to the wooden table. They’d waited all night while she finished bonding the last crystal. Now, the first rays of sunlight shone over the city’s skyline, casting a golden haze over the battle below.

  Curious that Zantano would push her so hard in the final stretch, almost as if he were in a hurry. What if that footage of Relia had leaked across the border? One glimpse of that, and Irina would be here within a day.

  Unfortunately, Elend gained nothing by stalling. Every second he wasted here, he left his students to fend for themselves.

  Zantano reached the table in five quick strides, and Elend and Lena rose to their feet. “You can remove the cuffs?” he clarified. “All five at once?”

  She gave him a deep nod that was almost like a bow. “Yes, Dragonlord.”

  “Good.” His voice cut the air like a blade. “Then let us begin.”

  They’d prepared written oaths earlier that night, debating the specifics for hours on end. But they’d waited until the last minute to speak the oaths themselves.

  Elend extended his right hand. Zantano did likewise, and they clasped each other’s wrists. The Dragonlord’s skin was rough and hot like a boulder left in the desert sun. Mana swirled around their arms in colored streaks of fire and plasma. The heat reached all the way to Elend’s face, and it felt like standing too close to a bonfire.

  Elend added his dream mana into the mix. It took him the better part of a minute to fill his half, and the cuffs sent waves of pain racing up his arm. Intention mattered most in soul oaths, but intention couldn’t exist in a vacuum. As with all techniques, you needed mana to shape and transport it.

  And of course, their mana amounts had to be equal. Otherwise, one party could gain an advantage over the other. Zantano had used enough mana to cause Elend discomfort, but not so much that they’d be waiting all night for him to catch up.

  Finally, when both techniques swirled in balance, Elend gave his enemy a polite nod. “After you.”

  The Dragonlord raised his chin “I, Axel Zantano, Dragonlord of Creta, hereby swear the following on my soul. From the moment those cuffs leave Elend Darklight’s body, I will not harm him or prevent his departure. I will not harm his family, his students, or any member of his household except in self-defense. I will not allow others to attack him on my behalf.”

  He turned to face Lena next. “I will not interfere with the Ethersmithing process, or attempt to turn it to my advantage. I will not allow others to interfere on my behalf. I will take the four Etherite cuffs from the table, but I will make no move to take the collar.”

  Elend paid close attention as the Dragonlord spoke, listening for any obvious loopholes or omissions. History was filled with mana artists who escaped soul oaths with clever tricks. Most of those stories were embellished, but one could never be too careful.

  Once the Dragonlord had finished, Elend wasted no time. “I, Elend Darklight, hereby swear the following on my soul. From the moment these cuffs leave my body, I will gather my students and leave this nation as quickly as possible. I will not attempt to harm the Dragonlord, his family, or his armies except in self-defense. I will not allow others to attack them on my behalf. I will speak nothing of my time here in Creta, and I won’t attempt to return once I’m gone.”

  He steadied his cycling as he eyed Lena. “I will not interfere with the Ethersmithing process, or attempt to turn it to my advantage. I will not allow others to interfere on my behalf. I will take the Etherite collar from the table, but I will make no move to retrieve the four cuffs.”

  The mana spun faster around their wrists, and they sealed the bond for a period of twenty years. Elend couldn’t complain about that part; it wasn’t as if he wanted to return here on holiday.

  No sooner had they sealed the oath than Elend felt an overwhelming compulsion. It manifested as a physical pain in his soul. Sweat threatened to break the surface of his skin, and he felt physically sick. Zantano would be suspicious if he waited another second.

  ‘Glim,’ he said inside his head. ‘If you can hear me, then you need to stop.’

  She couldn’t hear him, of course. They’d prepared for this moment, putting up a mental barrier between them. The barrier itself was built like a soul oath, and no communication could pass through—not until they were free from this tower.

  Elend raced through the possibilities, scrambling desperately for a way around the barrier. There were none. He and Glim had spent weeks preparing for this moment, considering every angle.

  The Dragonlord narrowed his golden eyes. “Something wrong, Darklight?”

  “I’ve always been a rebel at heart,” Elend said with a forced smile. “Soul oaths have never suited me.”

  Zantano eyed him for several more seconds, but he eventually turned back to the Ethersmith. “The oaths are sworn. You may begin.”

  Lena shifted her gaze to Elend, then she closed her eyes in concentration. Elend remained as still as a statue, both in body and mind. He couldn’t even think about interfering.

  That was Glim’s job.

  He’d spent the past two weeks feeding her every spare drop of his mana. They’d also learned a great deal about Ethersmithing, asking Lena questions as she worked, studying the patterns of her thoughts.

  Elend was a mana artist, not an Aeon. And without an Aeon’s crystal soul, he had no chance of learning Lena’s mysterious art. But he didn’t need to become an Ethersmith. He understood the theory, and that was enough for Glim.

  Several seconds passed, then the crystals vanished from Elend’s limbs and throat, leaving simple impedium bands behind. Elend worked his fingers between the wrist bands, snapping them like brittle iron. The band on his throat came next, then the ones around his ankles.

  Finally, Elend let his mana race through his channels. It felt like he’d been curled in the fetal position for weeks, and now he could finally stretch his muscles. The force of his power filled the room, and he would have knocked the guards off their feet if not for his oaths.

  He Cloaked his muscles, and he felt like he could rip down this building with his bare hands. Missiles gathered in his palms, and they would have shot through ten floors if he hadn’t stopped them.

  Elend did this all in the space of two breaths. By the time he looked up again, a row of glowing crystals sat on the table.

  The Dragonlord collected the four cuffs, examining them with undisguised awe. Elend approached the collar more slowly.

  Did it work?

  Glim was supposed to be working a Circuit technique on Lena’s mind. This wasn’t enslavement, they’d reasoned. It was just good old-fashioned deception. Glim didn’t dominate Lena’s thoughts or influence her choices. She’d only altered a single parameter of the Ethersmith’s technique.

  Lena believed she was transferring cuffs onto the table. Instead, she’d put them right back in Elend’s possession. At the same time, Glim had conjured four exact replicas on the table. And because Elend had given Glim a Grandmaster’s power, that technique should be enough to fool the entire room.

  That included the Dragonlord, and even Elend himself.

  Unfortunately, this also meant Elend had no way of confirming it. All he could do was leave as planned.

  He grabbed his collar from the table and strode toward the middle of the throne room beneath the glass dome’s apex. “You should probably open the sky door now,” Elend announced to no one in particular. “It looks expensive, and I did swear to leave quickly.”

  Zantano waved a hand, and a Fang scrambled with the controls across the room. The circular glass door slid open above Elend’s head, letting in a rush of cool morning air.

  Elend shot a burst of mana into the obsidian tiles, propelling his body upward through the opening.

  The blast carried him fifty feet into the air, and Tureko’s skyline stretched for miles around. The wind struck his face, and he might have struggled to keep his eyes open if not for the strength of his Grandmaster’s body.

  Still soaring upward, Elend shot more mana from his palms and formed a Construct in the shape of a hang glider. He’d memorized this design decades ago, and he’d practiced it over a thousand times. You never knew when you might need to jump off a skyscraper, after all.

  “Glim,” Elend shouted over the wind. “Did it work?”

  “At last!” Wild laughter echoed in his mind. “The power of the Angels in the palm of my hand. After today, all will bow to their new empress. Especially you, foolish human! You, who were so distracted by your enemies of flesh and blood. You, who were so focused on your goals, but utterly blind to—”

  “Enough jokes,” Elend interrupted. “Did you get the cuffs?”

  “Of course,” Glim said in a cheerful voice. She manifested as a Missile beside him, carrying all five crystals on a trail of blue mana. In the same moment, Elend felt the fake collar vanish to mist in his hand.

  He smiled. “Good work. Now let's save the kids.”

  Dream mana flowed out from his chest, hands, and feet, swirling around his body like a tornado. It came as easily as taking a breath.

  The glider soared east through the air currents, and they crossed the river to where the Grevandi clashed with the Unmarked. Explosions still echoed from the maze of city streets, and dark clouds of smoke choked the sky above.

  Elend stretched out with his mana, feeling the minds of every fighter and civilian down below. His mana shrouded the battlefield, and he formed his ultimate Ritual technique.

  ~~~

  Akari opened her eyes and found Relia and Kalden hovering over her. She glanced from side to side, expecting to see the rubble from the broken hotel. But this building looked untouched from the battle. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and a jungle of potted plants lined the balcony outside. She seemed to be lying on a stiff leather sofa, while her friends sat on the wooden coffee table nearby.

  How long? She tried to talk, but her throat was too dry.

  “Here.” Relia uncorked a water bottle while Kalden held up the back of her head. Akari took several long swallows, washing away the taste of smoke and blood from her mouth. For a second, she dared to hope they’d escaped Creta. But another blast erupted outside, hard enough to shake the windows in their frames.

  “You were out for about ten minutes,” Relia told her. “We carried you to an apartment two blocks away.”

  Akari tried to prop herself on her elbows, but a wave of burning pain shot up from her stomach.

  “Easy.” Kalden lowered her back onto the cushions. “You’re still hurt.”

  Akari glimpsed her stomach as she fell back. Her armor and shirt had been cut open across the middle, revealing her entire lower torso. Blood covered her abs with a gaping wound in the center.

  Right . . . Zakiel.

  “Can you fix it?” she asked Relia.

  The other girl hesitated, and Akari’s heart sank. “You’re out of mana?”

  “No.” Relia shook her head. “I was at first—after I healed Kalden. He found me some bottles, though. . .”

  Akari blew out a breath, feeling her eyelids grow heavy again. “Then what’s wrong?”

  “The wound is burned shut.”

  “That’s . . .”

  “Bad,” Relia finished for her. “He broke your small intestine in about fifty places. I’ve been trying to fix it, but it’s not working. That’s why plasma blades are illegal back home.”

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  “You’re not making any sense,” Kalden said. “I’ve seen you heal broken bones. How’s this any different?”

  “It just is!” Relia’s voice rose, and she looked like she wanted to punch something. “My aspect sees the burns as scar tissue. No healer can fix a wound that isn’t there.”

  Akari took several deep breaths to quell her rising panic. She’d won—she’d beaten Zakiel—and now she might die anyway? She’d been ready to die in battle, but this was bullshit.

  “What can we do?” Kalden asked.

  “We need to get her to a real hospital,” Relia said.

  “You said this problem affects all healers,” Kalden said.

  “Yeah.” Relia ran a hand through her sweaty hair. “A Master could do it . . .”

  “There aren’t any—”

  “I know,” she cut in. “Thanks, General Obvious.” A short silence passed, then she continued. “A lot of doctors are knowledge artists. They can find a solution, then tell the healers what to do.”

  “Makes sense.” Kalden gave an encouraging nod. “So what would these doctors say if they were here?”

  “I don’t know!” Relia threw up her hands.

  “Only one answer,” Akari muttered through her pain. “Break open the burns …”

  “Then heal them again,” Kalden finished for her.

  “That only works for surface-level burns,” Relia said. “These are internal. You’d need something precise.”

  “Death mana,” Akari said in a low voice.

  “No! That’s the opposite of precise.”

  “You once killed a drake by breaking its cervical spine,” Kalden said.

  “I had nothing to lose if I messed up.”

  “Your mana is slow,” he continued. “Slow mana is designed for precision work.”

  “Death mana wasn’t designed at all,” Relia shot back. “It’s a side effect of life mana—a leftover from an older time.”

  Relia was talking nonsense now. Hadn’t her aspect been invented a few decades ago? But they were getting sidetracked.

  “Would it work?” Akari asked.

  “I have no idea,” Relia said. “I just know you’ll die if I mess up.”

  Akari drew in a deep breath, which was no easy task with her wounds still screaming at her. “I might die anyway.”

  “Might,” Relia stressed the word. “You’ll die for sure if this reaches your heart. Or your brain, or—”

  “Then I won’t cycle.”

  “You can’t just stop cycling. Not when you’re in this much pain.”

  “Sure I can.” Akari forced out a smile. “Lots of practice with those Martial cuffs.”

  Relia let out a long breath, looking like she wanted to cry. “I couldn’t live with myself if I messed up.”

  “I promise not to haunt you from the afterlife,” Akari said.

  Kalden leaned toward Relia and put a hand on her shoulder. “You trusted me to make your pill. Now let us trust you.”

  Relia glanced around as if she hoped to see another solution nearby. When nothing revealed itself, she cleared her nose and straightened. “Guess we don’t have a choice, huh?”

  And with that, she drank all the liquid mana she could stomach. Apparently, you couldn’t stop this sort of thing halfway through. This was why hospitals kept dozens of healers on staff as backup.

  Kalden rolled up a clean kitchen towel and let Akari bite down on it, just like in the movies. She’d always hated the healing scenes, though. Much better to skip straight to where she kissed the leading man and flew home on the airship.

  At one point, Kalden found a bottle of agavo in the pantry and suggested giving her some for the pain. Akari voted yes, but Relia shot down the idea, claiming that alcohol would increase her chances of passing out. People couldn’t help but cycle when they slept, and cycling meant instant death.

  Great.

  Akari lay back on the pillow and squeezed Kalden’s hand. It felt like it only had three fingers, but that couldn’t be right.

  “Now stop cycling,” Relia said. “Make your mana like an ice cube.”

  Akari nodded once and plugged up her soul.

  The next few minutes passed in a blur of pain. Getting stabbed was bad enough, but that was over in a few seconds, shrouded by a rush of adrenaline and emotion. This was nothing but pure agony twisting through her insides. Akari screamed through the cloth, bit down, and squeezed Kalden’s hand harder.

  She didn’t worry about hurting him. He was an Apprentice now, and he could literally stop bullets with his skin.

  When Relia finally pulled her hand away, it felt like several hours had passed. She panted hard, and strands of loose red hair clung to her forehead.

  “Akariel’s ashes.” Relia collapsed back on a nearby chair.

  “It worked?” Kalden asked.

  She gave a weary nod. “Remind me never to question Elend again.”

  “Elend?”

  “Yeah. He made me learn this—said I might need it someday.”

  Akari’s muscles softened with relief, and she brought a shaky hand to her wound. The pain was still there, but it took time for nerves to catch up with healing mana. That much, she’d learned from her foster mother.

  The pain eased as she ran a hand over her stomach and found fresh skin where the wound had been. But something felt . . . off. Her stomach wasn’t just smooth, it was completely smooth. She finally sat up and took in the surreal sight.

  “Where the hell’s my belly button?”

  Relia gave her an annoyed look.

  Akari snapped her mouth shut. “Sorry,” she said after a short pause. “This is good. Better than before.” She wasn’t even lying. One less thing to clean in the shower, right? Plus, people would start all sorts of rumors about her now. Maybe they’d say she was part cyborg, or some kind of super soldier who was bred in a tank. Akari was fine with either option.

  Panic replaced her thoughts a second later. If Relia couldn’t fix her belly button, then what else was wrong with her? But no . . . her abdominal muscles had returned to their former shape, so it wasn’t like she’d been deformed. The simple answer was that belly buttons were scars, and healing artists couldn’t replace scars.

  Akari turned toward Kalden, and she noticed his hands for the first time. He must have caught her staring because he held up both arms for her to see. His right hand had been severed off, leaving a stump on his wrist. His left hand was missing the thumb and forefinger.

  Akari’s heart sank, and she wanted to punch herself for complaining about her missing belly button. No wonder Relia had looked so annoyed.

  “Yeah,” Kalden said in a light tone. “That’s the last time I challenge an Artisan to a duel. At least this year.”

  “Same here.” Akari tried to force out a smile.

  “Stop it.” Relia’s eyes watered. “That’s not funny.”

  “They have prosthetic hands and fingers,” Kalden said. “I’ll be fine once we’re back in Espiria.”

  Relia just shook her head. “You two are both insane.”

  Akari turned back to Kalden. In that moment, his face looked as blank and inhuman as a marble statue. Did Relia have a point? How could you lose an entire hand and be so calm? That wasn’t normal, was it?

  Akari reached between them in what felt like a vast canyon, and her fingers found his again. She pulled his left hand closer and brought it to her lips, kissing the stumps where his fingers had been. She’d never been great with words, but she hoped this gesture would convey everything she felt. She wanted to show him how much she cared, and how she didn’t think any less of him now. If anything, she respected him more. It was one thing to fight as a perfect dueling machine, but it was harder to fight as a flesh and blood human with things to lose.

  She wanted to kiss him for real, but the angle was all wrong, and she could barely summon the strength to stand. She met his eyes and hoped he would take the hint. Her breath quickened, and her stomach fluttered with anticipation.

  Kalden just nodded as he pulled his hand back. He forced out a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  Oh well . . . that was fine. They’d all been through a lot, and they each had years of memories to sort through. Maybe once they reached Espiria, they could—

  Someone banged on the apartment door, and a voice shouted something in Cadrian.

  Akari froze, and so did her friends.

  The intruder banged again, shouting something else.

  “What’d he say?” Relia asked in a harsh whisper.

  “They saw our mana through the wall,” Kalden whispered back.

  The three of them scrambled to their feet as the Grevandi broke the door with a flaming Missile. Half a dozen dragons flooded inside the room, armed with Missile rods and submachine guns.

  “We surrender,” Kalden raised his hands, then repeated the phrase in Cadrian. Akari and Relia raised their own hands.

  The leader glanced past Kalden and pointed a clawed finger toward Relia. She didn’t catch everything he said, but the phrase artisto muerto stood out.

  Death artist.

  The other dragons adjusted their stances in a way that needed no translation. Akari felt her own body tense. The room held its breath for several heartbeats as each side waited for the other to move. The dragons slid their fingers toward their triggers . . .

  Then a wave of power swept through them, and everyone froze like statues.

  Until now, the shouts and explosions had been a constant rhythm in the background. Akari had even gotten used to the shaking floor and rattling windows. Now, the sudden silence was almost deafening.

  She tried to speak, but her lips wouldn’t budge. Even her brain slowed down as if she had to wade through molasses to form each thought.

  Who could do this? The Dragonlord? A Mystic?

  Then something caught her eye—a flicker of blue light reflected in her glasses. Another heartbeat passed, then a Missile soared through the room. But unlike most Missiles, this one seemed to have a mind of its own, darting left and right like a hummingbird.

  “There you are!” a feminine voice said. Akari couldn’t tell where it came from, but it definitely sounded too cheerful to be a dragon.

  The blue Missile soared around Relia, unfreezing her. It did the same for Kalden and Akari.

  Relia waved at the Missile. “Thanks, Glim!”

  Kalden blinked at the scene, shooting a glance at the still-frozen Grevandi. “Um . . . Who’s Glim?”

  The Missile flew into the nearby glass window, taking the form of a young woman with chin-length blue hair and a matching dress. Even her skin was blue—the same shade as pure mana.

  “Glimmer Gadriel Darklight,” she said with a wave. “Sorry we haven’t met before. You can blame my stingy mana battery for that.” She glanced up at the sky. “Speaking of which, here he comes now!”

  Akari looked out the window and saw dozens of soldiers frozen in the street below. Many held mana in their palms as if their techniques had been interrupted midway through.

  “Talek,” she muttered. “He froze the whole city?”

  “Just a one-mile radius,” Glim said.

  Akari shifted her gaze upward and saw a man-shaped silhouette descending from the sky. For a split second, she almost thought it was the man from her dream. But as the figure cleared the smoke, Akari saw Elend’s face.

  “Well,” Kalden said. “That explains all the weirdness.”

  Akari nodded her agreement. His glider was pale blue, from the handle to the sail. He’d probably forged it from solid mana like the grappling hook he’d made back on Arkala.

  Space mana couldn’t do something at this scale. Neither could Kalden’s blade aspect. Her parents had tried to tell her that before, but she hadn’t listened.

  This was true power. Not just the power to win duels, but the power to turn the tide of an entire war. This was the power she would need to free her home. And now, she and Kalden both had a second chance; a chance to re-aspect their mana and do things no other mana artist had done before.

  Relia led them out of the apartment, down the stairs, and out the building’s front door. Akari and Kalden had been reluctant to expose themselves, but the blue fairy girl assured them it would be fine.

  And yes, they were taking orders from mana fairies now. But like Kalden said, things got weird around Elend.

  The glider faded to mist as Elend dropped onto the street. Then he wove through the crowd of frozen soldiers, stopping when he reached Akari and the others.

  They must have looked like a hot mess right now. Kalden was missing an entire hand, not to mention two more fingers. Akari’s clothes were torn open around her midriff, and trails of damp blood ran down her pants. Relia’s armor was burnt in several places, blood stains covered her arms up to her elbows, and she’d lost a giant chunk of her braid.

  Elend took in the sight for several heartbeats, then he gave them a solemn bow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.” A short silence followed, then he turned to Glim who had begun hovering beside him. “How long do we have?”

  The blue Missile bobbed up and down. “I’d say we have about five more—”

  A roar echoed over the city, loud enough to shake the ground beneath their feet. Akari’s muscles turned to jelly, and she almost collapsed on the street.

  “Never mind,” Glim said. “Here he comes now.”

  A dark shadow filled the sky. She’d seen the Dragonlord several times before—everyone in Tureko had seen him flying over the city to the east. But now he flew straight toward them, growing larger by the second.

  “Don’t worry,” Elend said. “He’s angry, but he can’t hurt us.”

  The massive dragon hovered above their heads, blocking out the morning sun. His body alone was wider than this entire street, and his wings could have spanned several city blocks. In that moment, Elend’s techniques felt far less impressive. How could he possibly fight something like this?

  The Dragonlord continued flapping his massive wings, sending clouds of dust and smoke in their faces. Akari shielded her eyes, but Elend didn’t even flinch.

  Mana flashed in a burst of green light, and the dragon’s body shrunk to a normal human size. He kept his wings, but he didn’t use them. Instead, his body plummeted several stories. The ground shook when he landed, and his boots left a crater in the road.

  “Darklight!” he roared across the street. “We had a deal!”

  “Aye,” Elend said. “I couldn’t break it if I wanted to.” He stretched out his arms as if to prove they were empty. For the first time, Akari realized his cuffs and collar were gone.

  “You’re lying.” The Dragonlord stepped closer, stretching out his wings and spanning half the street. The air blurred around him in waves of heat, and several cars lifted off the asphalt, melting like candle wax. “You gave me dream mana. You tricked the Ethersmith.”

  “Remind me again,” Elend said. “What was our deal?”

  Zantano turned his gaze to Akari and the others, narrowing his golden eyes. Akari took a few steps to her left, shamelessly hiding behind Elend. She could face Artisans all day, but this was different. Facing an enemy Grandmaster brought out some primal fear within her. A fear she hadn’t felt since Last Haven’s destruction. Her knees shook like leaves in a storm, and it took all her willpower not to run.

  “I never agreed to this interrogation,” Elend said. “On the contrary, I’m supposed to leave your nation as quickly as possible.”

  “You think this is over?” The dragon’s voice rose again, and Akari braced herself for another deafening roar.

  Elend just shrugged. Akari couldn’t see his face from this vantage, but she caught a hint of a smile in his voice. “You never had those cuffs in the first place. You lost nothing today.”

  The floating cars erupted in a multicolored blaze. Even from ten paces away, Akari felt the heat of it on her cheeks.

  Elend cleared his throat. “You should know that my lovely wife is just a few miles from your border.”

  The Dragonlord paused, glancing at the mana wall that separated Creta from Vaslana.

  “But you knew she was coming, didn’t you?”

  Several seconds passed before a massive white airship appeared on the horizon. It hovered by the city’s northern mana barrier, then an entire section of the wall flickered out, big enough for the ship to fly through.

  “This oath won’t protect you,” the Dragonlord said. “I have powerful allies. Allies you can’t even imagine. Word will reach their ears. They’ll come for you, and everyone you love.”

  Elend said nothing as the airship flew straight toward them. Irina Darklight must have sensed her husband here, the same way he’d sensed her coming.

  “This is your last chance,” the Dragonlord said. “Give me what you promised, and we can put this behind us. Run, and you’ll make an enemy for life.”

  Elend shrugged again. “Remember those stories you heard about me, Zantano? The ones that called me eccentric and unreasonable?” He paused as the airship cast a dark shadow over their heads. “You should have listened.”