Akari stepped through a wooden archway toward the outdoor dojo. The fighting ring was thirty yards in diameter—the exact size of Last Haven’s arena. Wooden platforms surrounded the ring, complete with benches for spectators.

  Finally, another dream.

  She hadn’t dreamt once during the car ride to Tureko, but that was no surprise. They’d all been jumpy after the fight, and her instincts told her to stay on guard.

  Sleeping next to Kalden had been a treat, though. She wasn’t sure if she’d like that sort of thing, but it made her feel stronger—more alive. And he’d been cool about it rather than stammering or blushing. Blushing Kalden was cute sometimes, but only in moderation. She liked Stoic Warrior Kalden the best.

  Focus on the dream, she reminded herself. Don’t mess it up.

  Elend had warned them about this before he left. If she wanted her old power back, she had to merge her thoughts with Dream Akari’s. That meant letting go of the present and embracing the past.

  Her past self had hoped to find an empty dojo for her pre-fight ritual. Instead, half a dozen of her classmates gathered on the short wooden platforms.

  Figures. The new kid hadn’t fought a ranked match yet, but he’d challenged Akari yesterday afternoon, eager to test himself against the school’s top Novice duelist. Of course the others would all come to watch.

  She paced back and forth on her own platform, pulling ambient mana through her palms. She cycled that same mana through her channels and forced it through her soul. Huh, that’s new. Could she actually increase her soul’s capacity that way? She’d have to try it in the real world.

  A nearby door swung open, and three more students joined her on her platform—Maelyn Sanako, Darren Warder, and Emberlyn Frostblade. Emberlyn looked the most like her usual self, with the same golden hair and face full of makeup. And while the others wore combat suits, she wore a floral dress with a dark denim jacket.

  The girl waved as she sat down on the wooden bench. “Hi, Akari.”

  Akari glared at her and turned to walk the other way. “Don’t talk to me, Frostbite. I need to focus.” The girl looked like a mashup between a doll and a street hooker. No one wore that much makeup unless they had something to hide.

  Those had been Dream Akari’s thoughts, but Real Akari couldn’t help but agree. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard, after all.

  “Have you guys seen him yet?” Emberlyn asked the others. Akari had missed the start of this conversation, but she could guess who they were talking about.

  “Sure,” Darren said. “Mae and I used to be friends with him.”

  “What about now?”

  “He’s too busy for us,” Maelyn grumbled.

  “I blame his parents,” Darren said. “Especially his dad. I heard he makes him train twelve hours a day.”

  Emberlyn sipped a blue beverage from a clear tumbler. “I heard he spent the last three years in North Shoken. He learned his parents’ aspect there—something about blade mana.”

  “Same,” Maelyn said. “But I don’t get it. What’s so special about blade mana? How’s it different from metal?”

  “It’s nothing like metal mana,” Darren said. “The blade artists are the best duelists in the world.”

  Akari listened closer as she paced. She’d rarely talked to Darren at this point in her life, but the boy had a knack for separating rumors from fact. She couldn’t miss a chance to learn more about her opponent.

  “But how?” Maelyn pressed. “How is a sword different from the metal that makes it?”

  Darren made a comparison to gravity mana, but Akari missed his exact words as a gust of mountain wind blew through the dojo.

  “Gravity mana’s not abstract,” Maelyn said. “It either affects something, or it doesn’t. You can’t get any simpler than that.”

  “Gravity mana ranks tier three on Salvatore’s aspect scale,” Darren said, “so you can speak for yourself.” The exchange had a familiar feel, like the way Maelyn and Darren used to bicker back on Arkala. Funny how they’d lost these memories, but they still acted the same way together.

  “Anyway,” Darren said, “Metal mana is just one component. I’d bet there’s knowledge mana in there too. Like . . . the idea of a sword, and the idea of a duel. He has the skills of all the sword-wielders who came before him.”

  “Makes sense,” Maelyn said. “I’ve heard he can see things before they happen.”

  “Ooo,” Emberlyn said. “I thought you weren’t fangirling over him?” Akari wasn’t facing the group, but she could practically hear the stupid grin in the girl’s voice.

  “I’m not fangirling,” Maelyn said. “But I like to know my opponents.”

  “Okay,” Emberlyn said. “Serious question—do you think I have a chance with him?”

  Darren groaned. “False modesty, Em? You know you’re the hottest girl in our grade.”

  “Gee,” Maelyn said, “thanks a lot.”

  “You’re in the top eleven,” Darren replied without missing a beat.

  Dream Akari bristled at their conversation, turning to see her own reflection in a nearby window. She looked so different from Real Akari. For one thing, she wasn’t wearing glasses. Her hair was pulled back in a dark braid, and that braid was even longer than Relia’s.

  And was that eyeliner? Seriously? After she’d just given Emberlyn a mental lecture on wearing too much makeup? Her gaze fell to her dark combat suit, and her pity party continued.

  Get over it, Real Akari thought. She’d still be this skinny at sixteen, so there was no sense in whining about it now. Besides, a thin physique was far more practical for combat.

  The dream started to fade.

  Damnit. Judging her past self would just widen the rift between them. Better to focus on the parts where they agreed.

  “But he’s so focused on his training,” Emberlyn said. “Mana arts is his whole life. You think he has time for—”

  “He’ll make time,” Darren interrupted.

  “He’s right,” Maelyn said. “You’ll never know unless you ask him.”

  “Okay. I’m gonna do it.” Emberlyn actually fanned herself with her hand. Seriously. Who the hell did that outside of cheesy romance movies?

  Akari’s annoyance grew, and she cycled her mana harder as she stepped around the dojo. Emberlyn took another drink from her tumbler, and Akari released a small Missile from her palm, too quick to see. It struck the bottom of the tumbler, spilling the blue liquid over Emberlyn’s dress.

  “Oops.” Akari glanced over as if she’d just noticed. “Sorry, Frostbitch.”

  Emberlyn let her cup sink to her lap, looking more sad than annoyed. “Never heard that one before. What’s next—a blond joke?”

  “I don’t need to make fun of your hair,” Akari said. “Those bangs practically mock themselves.”

  Her frown deepened. “Seriously, what ever happened to—”

  “I don’t like you,” Akari interrupted. “Never have. I don’t have to explain myself.”

  Okay, so Dream Akari was kind of a brat. The first insult had been funny, but this was downright cringe-worthy. One taste of power, and she was as bad as the future Emberlyn from Arkala.

  “Here’s an idea.” Darren said. “Try not assaulting people. Then you won’t have to explain yourself.”

  “That would require self-control,” Maelyn muttered.

  “What was that?” Akari snapped.

  Maelyn gave her a long, frank look. “Don’t eavesdrop on us then pretend your ears don’t work.”

  “It’s okay.” Emberlyn pulled out a cloth wipe from her purse and started scrubbing at her dress. “She’s probably just nervous about her duel.”

  Unlike the others, her tone sounded perfectly sincere, and this seemed to piss off Dream Akari even more. Fortunately, her retort was lost as Battlemaster Grandhall stepped into the dojo. Students could spar outside of practice, but only the staff could activate the dojo’s dream Constructs. Without the Constructs, they wouldn’t have access to their weapons or armor.

  Akari lowered her backpack on a nearby bench, and it looked like the same one Mazren had given her on Arkala. She unzipped her hoodie and untied her black and white Traverse shoes, tossing them both inside the bag.

  With all that done, Akari stepped over the sigil boundary into the fighting space. The cold floor stung her bare feet, but she’d have her boots once the match started. Her combat suit contained the macros to generate those, along with her armor and weapons.

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  She joined the Battlemaster in the arena’s center, stepping into one of the two starting circles. The circles themselves weren’t visible yet, but she’d done this enough to memorize their spots.

  No sooner had Akari taken her place than her opponent appeared beneath the wooden archway.

  Kalden Trengsen.

  Dream Akari compared him to a neighbor boy she remembered—the boy who’d first taught her how to fight. He and his parents had left the sect four years ago, and she hadn’t seen him since.

  Kalden had only been nine years old then. Now, at thirteen, he had the look of a much older boy. He stood straight-backed and dignified as he walked, and his face betrayed no emotion. Staring at him was like staring at the surrounding mountains with their icy indifference.

  Real Akari was less impressed. She liked Stoic Warrior Kalden, but this was too much. His face betrayed none of his usual thoughtfulness now. Just cold hard focus, more like a machine than a mana artist.

  Battlemaster Grandhall tabbed a device in his hand, and two circles of light appeared in the arena’s center. The first one formed directly around Akari’s feet.

  The second circle appeared twelve feet ahead of her, and Kalden bowed as he stepped inside it. “Nice to see you again, Miss Clifton.”

  “Yeah.” Akari bowed back, but her own voice sounded rough and unrefined compared to his. “You too.”

  Kalden hadn’t dueled at this school, so the Battlemaster walked him through the rules, explaining how the duel would end when someone took a lethal or decapitating blow. Everything else was simulated, from their techniques to their weapons. Even a punch or kick wouldn’t actually make contact with your opponent’s body. The dream mana would simulate the pain, but those wounds didn’t last beyond the duel.

  “Do you understand the rules?” the Battlemaster asked.

  “I do,” Kalden replied in a formal tone.

  “Good.” He turned to Akari. “Trengsen challenged you, so you pick the arena.”

  “Forest,” she said at once. Akari hated that arena, but so did everyone else. The terrain was notoriously unforgiving, filled with all sorts of hidden trenches and fallen trees. Her experience would give her an advantage, and the obstacles would make things harder on close-range fighters.

  Grandhall gave a curt nod, pressing his tablet again.

  Everything blurred around them as the dream sigils sprang to life. The dojo faded, along with the buildings of Last Haven and the snow-covered mountains beyond. The terrain shifted beneath their boots, forming a series of hills and trenches she knew by heart.

  Several dozen trees shot up from the ground. Some were as thin as twigs, while others were too wide to wrap her arms around. Even the sky changed hues from pale blue to twilight. The audience would only see the forest, but it would look far smaller from the stands. For the contestants, it seemed to stretch on forever in all directions. Only the faint shimmer of dream mana marked the arena’s boundaries.

  Finally, Akari’s black armor formed around her body. Her boots increased her height, a visor darkened her vision, and she found a katana hilt in her right hand.

  “Prepare,” the Battlemaster said. His physical form had vanished, but his voice echoed through unseen speakers of dream mana. It was everywhere at once—practically inside her own head.

  Akari began the ritual of checking her weapons and armor, ensuring everything was correct. Problems were rare, but not entirely unheard of. Sometimes, the dream mana would interfere with her clothing if she wore something too bulky. Other times, there were glitches in the rendering process if a generator interfered with the arena’s. In these cases, the responsibility fell on the contestants to recognize problems.

  Kalden’s armor was dark green, blending in perfectly with the surrounding forest.

  Had he known which arena she’d pick? No way. Even she hadn’t known until just before the match.

  No weapons formed for her opponent. Instead, he gathered mana in his palms—silver in one, and blue in the other. A dozen Missiles formed around him in perfect orbit. Slowly, the silver Missiles became Constructs in the shape of swords.

  Metal mana made sturdy Constructs, but those Constructs were limited to simple shapes. Meanwhile, Kalden conjured actual swords from thin air, complete with hilts and guards.

  And how the hell were they still moving? He must have encased those pure Missiles inside the Constructs. In that moment, Akari couldn’t tell if the shock came from her present self or her former self.

  But one thing was clear to both of them: Kalden Trengsen was a serious threat.

  The preparation phase ended, and the Battlemaster began the countdown.

  “Three . . . two . . . one.”

  She shifted her boot in the soil, feeling the dirt shift beneath her weight. She brought her other foot forward and felt the familiar crack of dry leaves.

  “Fight!”

  Akari sprang into motion, weaving through the trees to confuse her opponent.

  Kalden’s blades swirled around him with impossible speed, forming a protective barrier on all sides. Those blades could stop bullets, and they’d slice her to bits if she got too close.

  Fortunately, he also sacrificed mobility and range. That made him—

  A blade broke out from the formation, lashing out as quick as a whip.

  Shit. Akari leapt right, missing the blade by a hair’s breadth.

  The movement brought her straight into a second blade. Kalden had known exactly where she would move and when.

  No time to dodge again. Akari formed a Construct between herself and the projectile. Her shield cracked beneath the impact, and she released a Missile at the last second, knocking the blade off course.

  Akari lost her balance and fell back-first onto the forest floor.

  Too close. Way too close.

  Twigs snapped in the undergrowth as Kalden approached. Two more blades passed over her face, but he seemed to have trouble aiming in the vertical axis.

  There’s one weakness. She rolled for cover behind a nearby tree. Kalden probably couldn’t aim up or down without ruining his whole formation. That took valuable time to set up, and probably more than half his total mana, judging by the density.

  The blades also spun in a cylinder rather than a sphere. That left the top exposed. Just need to get above him.

  Akari made her way towards a lower-hanging branch, six feet off the ground. From there, she cycled mana into her legs and jumped. This wasn’t a true Cloak technique, but it got her into the tree.

  Silver flashed in her vision as more blades closed in. She barely formed a Construct in time. Even then, Kalden’s technique sliced through it like paper, cutting through the branch beside her.

  How the hell was he just a Novice? She’d gotten used to her peers having stronger mana, but this was bullshit.

  Kalden’s blades soared through the forest, curving around like boomerangs and landing back in orbit. Clearly, he had no trouble aiming upward. Things just kept getting worse.

  Akari leapt between branches like a jungle cat. Kalden continued his attacks, but she knocked them aside with Constructs of her own. Others, she barely avoided, leaving more broken branches in her wake.

  Her opponent tried to stay mobile, but he didn’t know this arena like she did. Akari closed the distance in mere seconds, landing on a branch above him.

  Kalden hurled all six of his swords at the base of the tree, slashing them back and forth until the trunk broke free from the stump.

  The world shifted beneath Akari’s feet. She fired several Missiles as she fell, but none struck their mark. Mana flooded her legs as she leapt for the next tree, but Kalden was two moves ahead of her. His mana stretched out in a web of blades, cutting more trees to splinters.

  She wove through the chaos of falling wood, somersaulting through the air from one branch to the other.

  No more dodging. Close in for the kill.

  Facing a blade artist at close range seemed like suicide, but so was this. Besides, she knew her classmates would root for Kalden. They’d never call her a coward on top of that.

  Akari landed on the forest floor in front of her opponent. Kalden pulled two blades from his orbit and struck. Then he retrieved the other four, attacking from every angle at once.

  Akari parried and dodged, too quick to feel her own body. Silver mana blurred around her, but she met each strike with her own blade. Mana flowed from her arm to the hilt, enhancing the weapon with every strike. At the same time, she released Missiles from her free hand, closing the gaps in her defenses.

  For one perfect moment, Akari held her own against this Shokenese blade artist.

  Two more blades swept to either side. Akari jumped before the first one cut off her knees, then she flattened her body in midair, letting the other blade pass over her head. She landed less than two paces from her opponent, slashing for his throat.

  Time slowed to a crawl and Kalden combined several blades into one. This new weapon shone like the sun as he moved to parry.

  Akari’s blade shattered from the impact. Fragments of steel flew in every direction, and her fingers lost their grip around the hilt. She arched her back, letting Kalden’s blade pass over her face.

  She straightened as he followed through on the swing, gathering more mana in her palms. He couldn’t defend himself with just one weapon. She could—

  Kalden’s boot took her in the stomach, and she stumbled back into the nearest tree.

  When she looked up again, she saw a volley of silver blades closing in. With no time to move, Akari poured every ounce of her mana into one final Construct, forming a protective layer between them.

  But as Kalden’s swords closed in, she knew it wouldn’t be enough. His own techniques were sharp, dense, and perfect. And despite her pure mana’s versatility, it could never beat his aspect.

  Her parents had held her back for too long, and now she finally paid the price.

  Kalden’s blades tore through her shield, and hot lines of pain ripped through her body. The mana cut her skin, muscles, and bones.

  ~~~

  Akari jolted awake, hard enough to shake the mattress on its metal frame. Two lines of searing pain remained in her torso, and her stomach churned as if she might vomit.

  She tossed aside the blankets and leaned over the bed’s edge, prepared to do just that. But no . . . she brought a hand between her breasts, feeling her unbroken sternum. The pain wasn’t real. She was still alive.

  “Talek.” Akari collapsed back on her pillow, feeling a strange mix of relief and terror. Her past self might be used to simulated pain, but no one had prepared her for that.

  Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she took in the sight of the women’s barracks in Tureko. Rows of bunk beds filled the room, and she spotted Relia’s red hair in the faint light of a nearby window.

  Akari hadn’t lost her focus that time. Quite the opposite—she’d been totally engrossed in the dream, letting her past self take over. Maybe the pain had jolted her awake? Sweat soaked the sheets, and her muscles felt hot and ready for action.

  Akari pushed the blankets aside, reflecting back on the rush of new information

  Even in those days, Kalden had been years ahead of her. Her past self would be pissed about his flawless victory, and her present self felt the girl’s pain mingled with her own.

  Served her right, though. The little brat had been far too cocky.

  Back on Arkala, she’d only fought with the Golds and Silvers who’d bullied her. But Emberlyn had done nothing in the dream. Akari had instigated that fight. And for what? She’d been the best Novice in her sect, and she was still jealous of Emberlyn Frostblade?

  To be fair, maybe Emberlyn had deserved it. The girl had tried to kill her back on Arkala, after all. Not to mention the time she got her suspended from Elegan High’s computer lab. There might be more history in Last Haven she hadn’t seen.

  Still . . . she was supposed to become more like her former self? That idea seemed more terrifying by the minute. Her past self had been powerful, but she’d also been lonely and miserable. She cringed to imagine Kalden seeing her like that—she cringed so hard, she thought she’d turn herself inside-out.

  Akari shook her head to clear the memories. Her thirteen-year-old self had been an unbearable little shit, but that was probably true for most kids that age. The others just didn’t relive their memories in such vivid detail.

  Focus on the mana arts. That’s the priority. Kalden had beaten her, but she’d still put up a solid fight. Not just that, but she’d held her own without an aspect.

  Akari stared up at the wooden rafters, almost close enough to touch. She raised a trembling hand and released a Missile, reigning it back in.

  She’d formed dozens of Constructs in her dream, and her muscles remembered the feeling. She remembered the way she’d pulled her Missile into perfect balance, and she felt the contrast with her failures on the playground. She remembered the way it felt, as easy as balancing a pencil on her finger.

  The Construct stretched over the bed, becoming a protective shield. Blue light flooded the barracks, and a smile spread across her face.