Elise pressed a hand to the front door, sending a burst of pure mana through the lock. Mana signatures were as unique as fingerprints, and this lock was attuned to her and her family.

A Midwinter tree filled the vestibule, two stories high, and wider than a car at its base. Garlands and ornaments ran around the stone pillars, and the pale lights reflected off the marble floors. Beyond that, the Moonfire estate sat in silence, and her footsteps echoed through the halls.

Elise pulled out her phone as she walked. No new calls or messages. The qualifying rounds were over, and no one ever texted her without a purpose. She was Elise Moonfire, after all—the most popular first-year in the Artegium. Meetings and training filled every minute of her time.

But the qualifying rounds were an unofficial holiday in the Artegium, and most people would be resting at home with their families. Her own parents had gone on a business trip to North Shoken, and most of their staff had gone home as well.

Elise perused her messaging app, her finger gliding over the screen as she scanned the list of contacts. She wasn’t in the mood for physical intimacy, but she couldn’t sleep alone tonight, either. Not when her thoughts raced like a stampede of wild raptors.

Elise chose a second-year boy and typed out a quick message. She was about to press “send” when the sound of propellors reached her ears. Hope flared in her chest as she sprinted toward her bedroom and pressed her nose to the cool glass window.

Sure enough, a white airship hovered just above the landing pad. The propellors sent up clouds of snow, revealing the smooth gray stone beneath. The landing gear hit the ground, and a ramp dropped from the ship’s starboard side.

Her breath formed a layer of fog against the window. She wiped it dry on her sleeve just in time to see her father step down the ramp. A smile spread across her face, and she raced down the stairs to meet him.

Two staff members opened the back doors, letting in a gust of cool winter air. Finally, Ashur Moonfire stepped inside the estate.

Elise waved at him, but he was talking on the phone and didn’t see her. She waited patiently for several moments, fidgeting with her golden braid. Several more staff members followed him inside, nodding at Elise before heading off with the luggage.

She hadn’t noticed this before, but her father bore an uncanny resemblance to Relia Dawnfire. It wasn’t just the pale skin, red hair, and bright blue eyes. They also had the same sharp eyebrows and genuine smiles. Of course, her father’s smile was a bit more forced these days.

He paced in front of the fireplace as he talked, and Elise’s gaze settled on the family picture on the mantelpiece. Her mother had blonde hair like Elise, but she wore hers shorter, so it fell just below her chin. Her face looked more like Relia’s, though; narrow, with high cheekbones and a delicate chin.

Angels above. Relia really was their daughter, wasn’t she? A part of her had always known this. She even understood her parents’ reasoning. If this secret got out, it could destroy everything they’d worked for. She wished they could have told her the truth, but she understood that, too. Even a whispered conversation was an unnecessary risk.

But they hadn’t just kept secrets. They’d lied to her. Relia wasn’t some scheming opportunist looking to take down the Moonfire family. She truly believed Elise was her sister. She’d proven that today.

And Elise had stabbed her in the back. No . . . she’d stabbed everyone in the back. Relia’s friends, and her own.

Her father slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. Elise perked up and stepped closer. “Hi, Dad.”

“Elise.” He smiled at her, but it came out even stiffer than usual.

“You’re home early.”

“The Senate’s in session tomorrow morning. Your mother stayed behind to close the deal with Sanako.”

Elise resisted the urge to fidget again. “Did you watch the qualifying rounds?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I skimmed the highlight reel on the flight back.”

“Unfortunately?” she echoed with a raised eyebrow. This didn’t seem right. They’d told her to take out Akari Zeller, and she’d succeeded.

“I saw your fight against Zeller,” he said. “You should have won. You would have won if you'd become a Space Artist.”

Elise winced as she remembered the end of that fight. How was she supposed to know the girl would dive into a freaking water tower? But her father was right about one thing: Elise never should have taken her eyes off Zeller’s closed portal. She’d gotten tunnel vision and forgot to consider her opponent’s motives.

On the other hand, this was bullshit.

“I beat Zeller at the end,” she said. “And I did it as a Dream Artist.” She’d sacrificed everything for that victory, pulling the most audacious stunts along the way. Relia’s whole team suspected Elise, and she’d still infiltrated their ranks.

Elise’s final score would have been higher if she’d focused on the larger armies rather than Zeller. Not to mention the part where she’d betrayed everyone and risked her own reputation.

“You were too late,” her father said.

“What?” Her stomach twisted into a knot. Had the plan failed? Was it because Kalden Trengsen figured it out? She hadn’t told anyone about their fight in the bathroom. Not even her parents.

“I worked all semester on this,” Elise said. “I put my own goals on hold, and I never questioned you.”

He gave her a weary look as he strode toward the stairs. “You want applause? Become a duelist. We’ll take our rewards when we come into power, and one year is nothing in the grand scheme of things. Learn from your mistakes today and try harder next time. That’s all I ask.”

Elise remained silent as she followed him toward the staircase. She wanted to argue, but what could she say? She could fight for his approval, but he’d sour it with a condescending tone. She could make him apologize for insulting her aspect, but he’d make her feel like an oversensitive little girl.

Her father paused at the bottom of the staircase, turning on his heel to face her. “Do you want to join me for dinner tonight? We have a reservation at White Masa.”

“I’d love to,” Elise said at once. She’d already eaten, but that wasn’t the point.

He nodded once. “You should wear a blue dress.”

“Okay, sure. But why’s that matter?” White Masa had a strict dress code, but colors had never mattered before.

“We’re eating with a lobbyist from North Shoken.” He gestured down to his own navy blue suit. “They coordinate their colors during business meetings.”

Her hope shattered for the second time that day. Of course they wouldn’t be alone. Clearly, her brain hadn’t caught up on all the lost sleep.

This time, Elise hid her frown. It wasn’t easy, but she’d had years of practice.

~~~

The next morning found her alone at the Artegium library. Two days ago, this room had been a war zone with toppled shelves, scorched windows, and papers strewn over the marble floors. That hadn’t been the real library, but it felt like it. The best Dream Artists didn’t make illusions; they crafted experiences. And the qualifying rounds had certainly been an emotional rollercoaster.

But now the games were done, and it was time to study and train.

Elise grabbed another book from her pile and flipped to the chapter on advanced Circuit techniques. Zeller and Trengsen had both beaten her in the span of an hour, and it was her own fault.

True, their teacher had probably taught them how to resist her techniques. Kalden’s aspect was also a perfect counter to her own, combining blade and knowledge mana in some novel way. But Elise could have done better. She kept replaying those fights in her mind’s eye, especially the one against Akari Zeller.

Angels above, she’d been so close. She should have pushed harder when her opponent was down, or played with more subtle illusions. But she’d gotten complacent this year, neglecting her own goals for her parents’.

Meanwhile, Akari Zeller had been training. So had Zukan, Relia, and the rest of their team. Elise had almost been a part of that, but she’d blown her chance.

Footsteps echoed on the marble floor behind her, and Elise felt the weight of a Grandmaster’s power.

A second later, Elend Darklight loomed over the table. “Good morning, Miss Moonfire.”

Her body stiffened, and her hands turned to ice. “Grandmaster Darklight.”

“Oh?” A pleasant smile spread across his face. “You know who I am?”

A nervous laugh escaped her lips. Elend Darklight was the best Dream Artist on the continent. He was also the second best, if you counted his mana spirit. Elise had never seen the spirit, but she’d heard the rumors.

Still smiling, the Grandmaster lowered himself into the wooden chair across from her. That smile said far more than any glare. He was in total control, and he knew it.

“You’re pissed about the qualifying rounds,” she guessed.

He waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve never liked those games, but I don’t blame you for trusting your parents and teachers.”

Dream mana began flowing from her palms toward his face. It should have been invisible, but that didn’t stop the Grandmaster.

He reached out and grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Then he flicked it away as if it were an insect. “I don’t blame you for this, either. We’re all creatures of habit, especially when we’re stressed.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Relia Dawnfire is dying,” he told her. “She has less than a month to live. Unless she advances to Artisan.”

“Dying?” Elise didn’t know what she’d expected, but it certainly hadn’t been that. Relia Dawnfire didn’t look sick. Could Life Artists even get sick? They were the best healers in the world. Even their biggest critics didn’t deny that.

“It’s called krustoplegia,” Elend said. “Heard of it?”

“Yeah . . .” Her shoulders sagged, and a fresh wave of ice surged through her veins. “I’ve heard of it.” Krustoplegia killed most children before they even reached puberty, and Relia was at least nineteen. Her aspect must be keeping her alive. That, and the sheer speed of her advancements.

“Relia thinks soulshine caused her condition,” Elend said. “But she’s wrong. Your parents never abused soulshine, did they?”

Elise shook her head, still too shocked for words. Her mother had taken soulshine in her younger years, but she’d always been careful with it. Her family even had an alchemist who made the drug specific to her biochemistry.

As for her father, he’d always advanced fast enough without it.

The Grandmaster leaned forward, putting his elbows on the wooden table. “Relia has believed this lie her entire life, but it never made sense to me. Who abandons their daughter over a secret like that? Yes, it’s embarrassing, but it’s hardly enough to ruin them. Lots of powerful Mana Artis have skeletons under their beds.”

Elise drew in a shaky breath. Had he come here to pull the secret out of her? Could she even resist him if he tried? There were laws against such things, but it would be her word against it.

“Relax.” Elend reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. “I already know the truth. And I know the meaning behind your name. I’ve suspected it for a while now, but the Cult of Solidor gave me proof.”

He slid the envelope across the table, and Elise caught it before it fell on her lap. Then she took a few deep breaths to compose herself. If Elend Darklight wanted to make her talk, then she was helpless to stop him. No sense in worrying about it now.

“So why are you here?” she finally asked.

“Relia refuses to take soulshine herself, even though it could help her reach Artisan and save her life. I want you to tell her the truth.”

“Why me? You’re her master.”

“You’re her sister,” he countered.

Elise raised an eyebrow, feeling more confident than she had a few seconds before. “I thought you knew the truth, Grandmaster.”

“I know Relia. She’s always wanted a sister, more than anything in the world.”

Elise’s mind swam back to several years ago when Relia first told her they were sisters. A rush of guilt followed as she recalled her rejection and the look on the other girl’s face.

Elend clasped his hands together. “I told you before, Miss Moonfire, I don’t blame you for your mistakes. You were following your parents' orders, and you didn’t know the whole story. But you’re not a child anymore. For the first time in your life, I’m offering you a real choice. You can help me save your sister’s life, or you can protect your parents’ dark secrets.”

She met his eyes again. “So you’re threatening us?”

“No.” The Grandmaster shook his head. “Refuse, and we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll tell Relia myself, and you can scurry back to that lonely mansion, being a pawn for your parents as they rule Espiria.”

Her eyes narrowed at that. “With all due respect, Grandmaster, you don’t know me.”

Elend raised an eyebrow, mirroring her expression from a moment before. “You think I’m a stranger to loneliness? Me? The desperate boy who made the first mana spirit in centuries?”

In that moment, a young woman appeared in the reflection of her laptop screen. She was entirely blue, from her skin to her shoulder-length hair. Her dress was the same color, as if it were an extension of her body. Dream Artists had been trying to create mana spirits for centuries. Elise had seen her share of fakes, but this felt like looking into a real person’s eyes. Someone with a mind and soul.

“Her name’s Glimmer,” Elend said.

“She’s beautiful,” Elise whispered

“Don’t tell her that. She already thinks too highly of herself.”

Glimmer winked at Elise before fading from the screen.

Elend leaned forward. “Here’s the rest of my offer. I’m coaching a team for the interschool battlegrounds, and we need a sixth member. And before you ask—no, this isn’t a bribe to make you talk to Relia. Consider it a test of character. As a top ranked first-year, you’re the most logical choice for my team. And as a talented young Dream Artist, you’re the best choice for my next apprentice.”

Her thoughts raced like mana through her channels. No . . . this couldn’t be real. It had to be an elaborate plot for revenge. She forced herself to meet his eyes. “What makes you think I even want to join your team?”

“You said it yourself during the qualifying rounds. You’re sick of these games and hollow victories. You want something real.”

“I was lying.”

Elend just gave her a flat look, which was fair.

“The others would never accept me as their teammate,” she said. “Not after what I did.”

“It won’t be easy, I’ll grant you that. But nothing worthwhile ever is.”

Elise narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t believe you’d accept me, either.” It might have been more prudent to keep this to herself, but she had no chance of deceiving a Grandmaster. Better to control the conversation however she could.

Elend just smiled back at her. “Why do you say that?”

“You and I are opposites. We’re both Dream Artists, but you shy away from using your full power. I use everything at my disposal.”

His smile widened. “First of all, you’re wrong about me. I’ve been in plenty of battles where I didn’t hold back. Do people talk about those battles? No, lass. Experienced Dream Artists don’t get caught.”

Elise winced as several recent mistakes flashed in her mind.

“Second,” he said. “I’m a teacher. Do you think I cast aside every problematic student? My classroom would be empty in that case.”

“My parents will never agree to this.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Like I said, you’re not a child anymore.”

“You’re asking me to choose between your team and my family.”

“You already made that choice yesterday, and I saw the regret in your eyes. I’m offering you a second chance.”

“My father will be prime minister in three years,” Elise said. “What can you offer me that he can’t?”

Elend shook his head. “Your father offers you political power and approval, but he can revoke those at any time. He offers you wealth, but unearned wealth is a castle in the sand, and one storm can wash it away. I offer you nothing. Nothing but the tools to unlock the power inside yourself. And even the Angels can’t take that away.”