Blake flopped down on his back. As the mists began to grow dark, he stared up at the whirling clouds. He and Mingel had made a mess of the ruins around them, and it was mostly his fault. Using the Serpent’s Cloak involved plenty of mistakes and learning experiences—as the Fate Monks would’ve called it in Reeducation.

  He’d toppled blended houses, and now it looked like some massive beast had stampeded through the old mist-shrouded boulevard. But as the day went on, their sparring matches grew less and less destructive. Blake wasn’t crashing through nearly as much of his surroundings.

  He switched between the ‘Cloud Body’ and ‘Lightning Fists’ halves of his technique with more speed and efficiency, and the pattern was starting to become second nature. But with greater control meant he didn’t fling himself as far. To make it easier to stop and turn on a dime, he used the Cloud Body half, and then to spring off in the other direction, he resorted to Lightning Fists.

  “So,” he began, registering Mingel crouching beside him. “What was the final tally? How many matches did we each win?”

  She laughed softly. “You were keeping track?”

  “I reckon it was about six to five. In my favour, of course.”

  “You ‘reckon’? By the Fates, you sound ancient. Are you truly only…twenty-one years old?”

  “You’re not going to protest that I beat you more?”

  “I know bluster when I see it. You had better be back in two weeks.”

  “You bet. And keep up, will you?”

  “Keep up?”

  Blake tapped his seal. “You know, advancement.”

  “Not all of us have infinite mana.”

  “You don’t need mana to get through Tempering.” Blake paused. “So, hey, when did you start…cultivating? Is that the right word?”

  “About four months ago. After I became engaged with Silverbeard.”

  Blake raised his eyebrows. “Well, no wonder he beat you.”

  “It was a formality.”

  “I suppose. But, hey, you were the daughter of a sect patriarch. Why the hell didn’t you cultivate?”

  “I wasn’t allowed to. I’m the only Blended in our family.”

  Blake tilted his head. “Sorry if I’m asking too much, but how does that work? I thought being Blended was passed by blood.”

  “It was during the same Integration that ruined your planet. We were a powerful family from Kinghaven, and we travelled to a fringe world for one of my father’s hunts. That was when the Integration began, and said fringe world merged with yours. I was unlucky, on the very edge of a merge border, and found myself Blended with one of the creatures your world calls ‘tigers.’ ”

  Blake nodded. “What was your father doing? Wait, do you know how or why the Integration even happened.”

  “I truly don’t know—whatever caused this is a well-kept secret of the Nords.” She paused. “Father survived the Integration, and that is all I remember. But for the sect to train me would put me, a Blended, into the spotlight. It would be a great disgrace, especially after Father became the patriarch of the Green Bears and we moved to Shell.”

  Blake winced. “I see. So…”

  “Mother was trying to have a male heir before Father died. When that became impossible, it became necessary to marry me off, and politically expedient. Even if it is a great shame for Silverbeard to marry a Blended in the first place. These are the machinations of his father, the Steerman.”

  Blake rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know how you keep track of all this. I’d just lose my mind.”

  “They began training me at Silverbeard’s father’s request, and much to my mother’s displeasure.”

  “She was an assassin, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes. The best in the sect. But she didn’t want to pass on what she knew until now.”

  Blake nodded. “So you’re catching up, too. And as it turns out, you’re an immensely promising recruit.”

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  “I have wanted nothing more than to cultivate, ever since your Integration.”

  Blake glanced over at her. Her green eyes bored into him expectantly. He asked, “So…you want my story?”

  “I shared mine.”

  “I was an average kid,” he said. “Then the Integration began. A fiend killed the rest of my family, then merged with me. The thing that killed them is part of me, and I can’t do anything about it. And every time I advance, it seems like it’s getting stronger, too.” He shook his head. “Nothing much to report after the Integration, though. I tried cultivating. I really sucked at it, so I gave up. And then a few months ago, I tried again, and it worked much better that time. I just…rolled with it.”

  He was skipping a few details, but he didn’t know what he could trust Mingel with yet.

  “I see.” She stood up, but she still seemed short of breath.

  “It’s easier to catch your breath if you lay down,” Blake said.

  Straightening a strand of hair, she narrowed her eyes. “That’s gross. I would be brushing mud out of my hair for weeks.”

  He laughed. “Ma’am, you already got your hair dirty.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “I dunno. I mean, you are training me. I could go back to calling you ‘princess.’ ”

  “Well, I’m not getting my hair dirty. So there.” She stood up quickly and brushed the mud off her knees.

  “I kinda took you for a tomboy.”

  “I’m allowed to look after my personal hygiene.”

  “Alright, alright, my bad.” He breathed out, then pushed himself up. “Anyway, I should probably start heading back or something. See you in two weeks.”

  “Wait, Blake.”

  “Yes?”

  “Silverbeard wants to destroy your Red Pines’ pavilion, and he’s coming up with new ways to do it. He is looking for his excuse, and he wants to annihilate the sect before your duel, so he doesn’t even have to face you. Do not give him a reason. Even without a good reason, he might just twist his words around enough, and no one will be in any position to stop you.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind. I haven’t seen him around, though.”

  “He’s planning something, that’s all I know.”

  After a shout pause, Blake added, “Do you know anything about the Monarch?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You know it’s a Monarch? I thought that we had kept that under wraps. I was not even supposed to know.”

  “Word got out,” Blake said. Even Wind-Eyes knew about it now.

  “You can’t go after it. Don’t even think about it.” She paused, wringing her hands together. “Do you know why the Path Paladins are truly here?”

  “To hunt the Monarch and search for signs of the Dark Surge?”

  “No. They’re escorting Prince Arald.”

  “What?” Blake had no idea who that was, but he wasn’t about to admit it. The guy sounded important.

  “He is the one hunting the Monarch, seeking his father’s favour. Don’t steal it from under his nose, lest you earn a prince’s ire.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “I am serious, Blake. You cannot tangle with these sorts. If you mess up, no amount of luck will save you.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind. What does ‘messing up’ look like?”

  “Stealing the prince’s kill!” Mingel pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. “Blake, don’t even think about it.”

  “I won’t. I won’t.”

  But he didn’t make her any promises.

  ~ ~ ~

  Later that evening, as Blake sheltered in the surprisingly quiet and peaceful cellar of a mostly intact longhouse in the mists, Ethbin returned to him with a yawn.

  Blake popped the ring back onto his finger and said, “Long time no see, old man.”

  I have many choice words for your recklessness.

  “What part was reckless?”

  Shall I pick one?

  Blake winced. “Ah, no. I’m good. But let’s look on the bright side. I’ve reforged my senses stronger than any of the other cultivators around me, and no one’s even close. I mean, really, I haven’t stalled myself out yet.”

  That is true. However, with what we now know about the Monarch, Mingel is right. You cannot hunt it. Forget it ever existed.

  “Alright,” Blake conceded. “Alright, fine. I’m not going to even think about hunting it.” They both seemed so gravely serious, and there was a fine line between honest recklessness and being suicidal. He couldn’t keep cultivating Honour if he was dead. “But I think we have some work to do. I still have four fiendberries, and I have plenty of room to go if I want to advance.”

  The good news is that you should be able to complete stage six and seven at the same time.

  “How? And will I have enough berries?”

  If you use them well. See, you have already partially completed Reflex and Impulse Enhancement by enhancing your nervous system during the last stage. For Internal Efficiency, you must aim for your blood vessels and glands within your body, and reforge them much the same way. With your destructive strategy, it shouldn’t be difficult.

  “And what about the last two stages? The hidden ones?”

  Those will be slightly more difficult. See, you must prepare your echo and lock it to your body. It will not take any physical reforging, but once your echo has truly bonded, your equipped echo sets will double in efficiency. Usually, it’s in preparation for the Foundation stages, but I think you can use it to your advantage before you even reach Foundation. You have shown immense capacity to socket echoes so far.

  “Understood,” Blake said. “So, what I’m hearing is that I should try to reach stage seven now?”

  Tomorrow morning. Rest your mind, and attack it with a fresh soul.

  “Ah, that does sound slightly wiser.” Blake was going to ask, Do I have to? but he restrained himself. “Yeah, alright. Waiting until the morning. Waiting, waiting, waiting…”