An enemy Missile tore through the forest with a whistling shriek. Akari saw the pinprick of light on the horizon, but she couldn’t dodge or block it in time. One second, it was there beyond the trees. An instant later, the sharpened mana struck her hard in the stomach.

  Pain spread through her body like liquid blades. Blood flowed from the open wound, and the copper scent filled her nostrils.

  “Focus,” her mother said from a few paces away. “You’ve got this.”

  Right. Akari cycled mana into the antique bronze watch on her wrist. The watch channeled her mana upward, and she felt the surrounding time bubble in her mental senses—her mother’s time bubble.

  Akari had learned a lot these past few weeks, but her own Constructs were barely a few feet wide, not to mention fragile. She wouldn’t make something this big until she reached the Master realm.

  Time was a physical thing inside this Construct, and Akari saw its path like a flowing river in her mind’s eye. The river didn’t flow inside the usual three dimensions. It flowed through them, as if each moment in time were a thin screen. And when Akari stretched out with her senses, she felt thousands of these moments, stacked like pages in an endless book.

  “Don’t overthink it,” Emeri said. “And definitely don’t fight it.”

  That was probably good advice, since time mana was trippy as hell. It always felt like someone had yanked her brain from her skull and stretched it beyond the bounds of physical space. The first few times that happened, Akari had woken from the dream in a cold sweat, too freaked out to sleep another minute.

  “Your aspect knows what to do,” her mother continued. “Follow the flow and let it guide you.”

  Akari cycled her mana backward through time, and the world followed her command. Her breath flowed back through her nostrils, with each exhale feeling more like an inhale, and vice versa. Her head fell like shifting rubble, staring down at the wound in her stomach. Crimson droplets defied gravity, and the spot faded from her T-shirt as the blood flowed back into her veins.

  The blue Missile pulled itself free with a sound like cracking ice. Her legs straightened, and her body uncurled itself from its wounded posture.

  Finally, the Missile flew toward the distant horizon, like a movie played in reverse.

  She dropped the technique, and time flowed forward again with a sudden jolt. The pain in her stomach faded without so much as a phantom ache. Even life mana wasn’t that good.

  As always, her mother’s watch anchored her mind to the future she’d just experienced. The knowledge functions stored her memories, even as they faded from her brain. And the dream mana was equally important; this let her experience the world as time rewound itself. Without that function, the light photons would move away from her retinas, leaving her blind in a reversed reality. Not to mention the reverse sound waves, perpetual dizziness, and a dozen other problems.

  That’s what her mother said, at least. Akari had never tried disabling the dream mana functions, and she didn’t plan to. Time mana was trippy enough without screwing up her senses on top of it.

  She glanced up as an enemy Missile tore through the forest—the exact same Missile as before, soaring toward her like a pinprick of distant blue light. Akari was ready for it this time, and she leapt to the side just before it pierced her stomach.

  “Good!” Her mother clapped from a few paces to her right. “First try!” She also wore an identical copy of Akari’s watch, letting her see the entire process.

  Akari grinned back and wiped some sweat from her brow. Well, she wiped some imaginary sweat. The actual sweat had faded just like everything else. Three weeks had passed since the library heist, and she spent most nights up in the Solidor’s safe house, experimenting with new dream tablets and quantum computer. By day, she was a normal college student. By night, she hacked mana and physics with the ghost of her dead mom.

  All jokes aside, dream tablets were amazing things. Words could describe a technique in detail, and videos could show you the moves on a screen, but technique manuals took things a step further. They tablet your mind with dream mana, and you felt the flow of power through your channels.

  It felt sort of like her computer experiments, but those were just the blueprints for hypothetical techniques. These techniques were living memories, and they came fully formed in your body and mind. If the computer simulation was a recipe, then this was a complete work of art, filled with a Master’s emotion and insights.

  Of course, that didn’t make it easy. Far from it. The path seemed clear while she cycled from the tablet, but that feeling faded as she she pulled away. It was like executing a perfect technique, and then forgetting how you did it.

  In some ways, that felt even worse than total failure. It was like being a Bronze back on Arkala, stripped of her true power. She could see glimpses of her potential, but she couldn’t find the path to reach it. Just the universe dangling more carrots in front of her face.

  What’s more, not every technique worked the same way for every person. Forcing spacetime mana into the wrong shape felt like pushing a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. But it was even worse than puzzle pieces, because Akari couldn’t see the source of the problem. Was it really a conflict of aspects? Or just a lack of skill on her part?

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  Fortunately, she’d copied five tablets from the restricted section, and she jumped between them when things got tough. Vanich and Fellner both treated their Constructs like intricate braids, with all sorts of detailed mana weaving along the way.

  Akari had no patience for that sort of mana arts, and her aspect seemed to agree. She had too much of her father in her, and Mazren preferred to find simple solutions to complex problems. The lazy genius approach, as he called it.

  Evermere and Tymbrial had simpler techniques in their tablets, but that simplicity came with a slow, monotonous setup. Akari didn’t mind that part, but her mother warned her about that style of technique, and how it rarely scaled into the Mystic realm.

  Her father seemed to agree; simplicity was good, but only when it could endure the test of time. It was the difference between a wooden wheel and a rubber tire. The wooden wheel might be simpler, but it also cracked under strain.

  Daelin Zeller’s techniques were the best fit by far. His approach felt like her mother’s, but with more focus on speed and power. That was no surprise, considering he was Emeri’s cousin. They’d started with the same root aspect, but they’d adapted the techniques to fit their own needs

  And so Akari did the same, taking Daelin’s time bubble and adjusting it for spacetime mana.

  Birds scattered on her left as another Missile approached. This one flew lower than the first, cutting through the undergrowth like a charging predator. Akari could have dodged, but that wasn’t the point of this exercise. Instead, she cycled mana through her watch and felt the time bubble around her.

  The Missile struck her ankle with bone-breaking force, but Akari didn’t lose her balance. Time flowed backward like a river changing course, and the pain faded as quickly as it came.

  “You’re doing great,” her mother said. “Ready to pick up the pace?”

  Akari nodded, and more Missiles followed. Her arm, her thigh, her chest, and her throat. They came from every direction, always too fast to see or dodge. Her mother didn’t even shoot these techniques herself. She just manipulated the Ethereal, creating imaginary opponents in the distance.

  How many times had she they this now? Fifty? A hundred?

  Akari kept her memories from each technique, but not her usual sense of time. That was the strange thing about time mana; you reversed your brain as well as your body. Exhaustion still threatened to overwhelm her, but it wasn’t the usual fatigue that came with long training sessions. It was more like a strange itch she couldn’t scratch. Some part of her knew she’d done too much, even if the evidence said otherwise.

  “I think I get it,” Akari said in a breathless tone. She’d fallen unconscious several times during her previous sessions, but she hadn’t made a single mistake tonight.

  “I wish it were that easy,” Emeri said. “But we’re still doing basic wounds right now.”

  “Those were basic?” For Talek’s sake, that last Missile hit her brain stem. She barely had a few seconds to react, and only because she was an Artisan. A Novice or Apprentice would already be dead.

  Well, dead by Ethereal standards. In Akari’s case, she would just wake up in her bed.

  Her mother adjusted her glasses and flashed her an apologetic smile. “A real Master technique could vaporize you in a few milliseconds. Plenty of time artists have died within their own Constructs.” She gestured down at the artifact on Akari’s wrist. “You’ll also need to practice without that. Otherwise, a skilled opponent will go straight for your hand.”

  Shit. That was a good point. If she relied too much on the watch, then a lost hand could be even worse than a lethal blow.

  “You should be able to rewind time in your sleep,” Emeri continued. “Not just when you’re injured—before your opponent’s mana ever reaches you. Fortunately, your Cloak techniques will help with that part.”

  Hell yes. Akari couldn’t wait for those. Her mother’s time Cloak let her see several seconds into the future, reacting to her opponent’s moves before they happened. This made her impossible to hit unless you took her by surprise, or overwhelmed her with enough power.

  Meanwhile, her father’s Cloak warped space around his body, letting him dodge techniques that should have been impossible to dodge. She’d once tried shooting a Missile at his stomach from three inches away. He hadn’t moved a muscle, and she’d still missed.

  Cloaks were even harder to copy than Constructs, but Akari planned to recreate both techniques with her new quantum computer. Then she would combine them into a single spacetime Cloak—the most overpowered technique this world had ever seen.

  “A part of me hoped I’d never have to teach you this.” Emeri’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and her face took on a sad smile. “But I think we both know you’ll need this someday.”

  “Sorry,” Akari said. Her mother had always acted so innocent and carefree, and Akari’s younger self had mistaken that attitude for weakness. Now she knew better; both her parents were powerful Mystics who’d seen their share of battle. They’d just done their best to protect her and make her feel safe.

  “No need to apologize.” Emeri gave a light shrug. “You were born to be a fighter—we always knew that. You climbed out of your crib before you could even walk. I’m pretty sure you did it just to spite me.”

  Akari grinned at the story. “Never liked being caged.”

  “Trust me, I know. You’d stage little revolutions by ripping off your diapers and throwing them across the room like grenades. It bordered on biological warfare.”

  Never liked clothes much either. But Akari kept that last joke to herself. “You’re saying I was a bad kid?”

  “Oh, you definitely were.” Emeri’s eyes crinkled at the edges. “But so are most future Mystics.”

  “Just most?”

  “I was a delightful child.” Her mother batted her eyelashes, and her voice dripped with mock innocence. “My own parents might disagree, but they were merciless tyrants. Especially when it came to training.”

  “Are they still alive?” Akari asked. She’d been curious about her extended family ever since she found Daelin Zeller’s dream tablet. How many other relatives did she have out there in the world? Her mother had mentioned a few of them, but the nations of North Shoken were notoriously private compared to Espiria. No televised matches or online databases to browse through.

  “Your grandmother is still alive,” she replied. “We didn’t exactly part on good terms, but who knows . . . maybe she can pick up your training when I’m gone.”

  Akari winced at that. “How much longer do you have?”

  Her expression took a more serious turn. “Just a few more weeks after tonight. Maybe a whole month if we’re lucky. I’m sorry.”

  Talek. That was all? They’d begun the summer with several months ahead of them, but now things were going too fast. Akari felt a knot forming in her stomach, and it had nothing to do with Missiles.

  “Can’t I just . . . put you in cold storage or something?” The question sounded stupid when she asked it aloud, but her parents’ soul fragments had been sealed away for several years before this. What if she could seal them again? Akari had lost her mother once, but she still couldn’t imagine life without her.

  Emeri shook her head. “That worked at my full strength, but time erodes all Constructs, and this is no exception. I’d rather say goodbye to you before I reach my limit—while I still feel like myself.”

  “Yeah.” Akari slumped her shoulders. “Guess I would, too.”

  Web of Secrets Book 1 is now available for ebook, paperback, and Kindle Unlimited:

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0D7XSBKH2

  Book 2 (Web of Dreams) is also available for pre-order:

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0DX13PV7V

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