Kalden and Akari left their room when the earthquakes started. They took their time for the first few minutes. He gathered their remaining potions in his pack while she rose from the bed on shaky feet, fumbling with her glasses and helmet.

Then the lights went dark, and the earthquakes grew more violent. The television toppled over from the dresser, landing glass-side down on the carpet. The lamps came next, and the window broke into a web of cracks. He’d half expected 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 Constructs. No Constructs meant this place could fall apart any second. Staying here had made sense twenty minutes ago, but he’d rather die in battle than from a collapsing ceiling beam. 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 more distant than usual, unable to meet his eyes.

How could he help her? She’d clearly been traumatized by her latest dream. Kalden thought he understood that part. His own dreams had left him shocked too, especially after his more intense fights and training sessions. But this was different. Akari thought she was responsible for Last Haven’s destruction. That seemed insane. How could a thirteen-year-old affect something on that scale?

Then again, his own memories of that day were a blur, far fainter than his actual dreams. He remembered a solid black form in the sky, covering 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? Kalden’s parents had never mentioned any enemies in his past life. Maybe Akari knew something he didn’t.

Whatever had happened three years ago, it didn’t matter now. Despite these fresh memories, Akari seemed no closer to having her revelation or regaining her former power. They could only survive with the tools they had.

They were halfway down the corridor when blasts of fire mana flashed through the intersection 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 Hector could launch themselves several stories in the air, and the Unmarked couldn’t guard every window.

The mana flew faster up ahead as one side pushed the other back. He couldn’t tell who was winning. Fire was the most common aspect in Creta, regardless of which side you fought on. The corridor went dark a second later, and the sounds faded as the losing side retreated. Several gravely reptilian voices followed, all speaking Cadrian too fast for him to understand.

“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. Staring into that light was like staring into the heart of a fire. The more Kalden stared, the more impossible this battle seemed. No way they could—

Akari stepped forward and launched a Missile at the Apprentice.

Their opponent attacked at 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 hand as he ran, forming into a ten-inch blade with a cylindrical handle. It wasn’t true blade mana, but pure mana could take on many shapes. Elend had even formed it into a grappling hook once.

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 flared his Cloak technique. Kalden’s technique broke the skin, but 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 something out of a movie. Kalden swung his blade with another hard chop from above.

Then something hard snapped into his stomach, and he flew backward, slamming into the tile floor. His mana blade turned to mist as he lost control of the technique. Kalden blinked up at his opponent 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 toward her. Akari dropped to the ground, throwing her own mana upward into the fire. This knocked the attack into the ceiling.

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 for eight years. Those memories had been sealed away before, but now they flowed through him like the blood in his veins.

He could do better.

Kalden opened his right hand, and the mana gathered in a whisper, surrendering itself to his control. 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. 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 lasted that long against Apprentices. 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 felt like deflated balloons.

A fever-like heat sank into him, 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. Just this single moment.

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 still had his Cloak active. That 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 his 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 ate through his armor. He felt like he’d been kicked by a horse, and the heat burned hotter than any stove.

He pushed through the pain and thrust his blade into the dragon’s right eye. Another bird-like shriek followed, and more fire gathered in the dragon’s palms as he tried to hit Kalden again. Kalden pushed harder, forcing all his mana into the blade.

It sank deeper, cutting through his skull. His opponent’s Cloak technique broke, and his body fell limp. All three of them collapsed into a pile on the floor, as if their battle had been their only support.

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 erupting from the earth. It looked like Valdez and another dragon, but they were gone a split second later, soaring straight through the ceiling.

Another explosion 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 their 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 in desperation as he lost all sense of direction.

Someone grabbed his right arm, and Kalden 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 get him up over the ledge. She had no handholds, and her boots were slipping.

“Let go,” he told her. “I’ll be alright.”

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. Instead, he unfastened his glove, and his hand slid free as he fell into the chasm.