Mana flowed like a river from Relia’s outstretched hand, and she strained against the rising flames.

  Can’t . . . hold . . . on.

  Her technique failed a second later, and her limp body crumpled on the road. That potion had let her focus for a few seconds, but now the pain returned in full force. Her vision darkened around the edges as she stared up at the sky, watching it fill with clouds of black smoke. Even the enemy’s Missiles echoed faintly in her ears.

  Kalden’s whole plan had been insane. Who blew up an entire van just to make a pill? Elend would have approved, though, assuming it actually worked.

  How long until she knew her fate?

  The next few seconds passed like a fever dream as pain tore through her body. Her mind struggled to stay focused, breaking down the crystals and healing the damage they’d left behind.

  It wasn’t a fight she’d ever win. She could only survive.

  One more minute.

  Blue light flashed through her eyelids. She opened them to see Kalden kneeling above her, holding a glowing capsule in his hand. Her body sighed with relief as he passed it between her lips. The bitter flavor danced through her mouth, sharp as a twisting blade. She’d always hated these pills as a little girl. Now, it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

  Kalden held a glass bottle to her lips, and it smelled vaguely of mint. Relia took a small swallow to get the pill down.

  No sooner had Kalden given her the bottle than a Missile struck his chest. The impact sent him flying back, and he hit the edge of the bridge. Relia turned her head and saw Akari lying a few feet away, bleeding out from several wounds.

  The pill shifted forms inside her, passing from her stomach to her soul. She cycled it through her channels, and it went to work dissolving the crystals. This normally took several minutes, but she didn’t have that long. Her enemies were closing in, and her friends had bet everything on her.

  So Relia bore down with all her mental might, driven forward by the light at the end of the cave. The crystals shattered one by one, turning back to their natural form. The pain subsided, and her breaths grew deeper. It felt like she’d been drowning for days, and now she’d finally emerged from the depths.

  And as the pain faded, her ordinary senses came back in a rush. She felt the cool evening wind on her cheeks, and the hard road beneath her head. She curled and stretched her fingers, and then her toes.

  But this wasn’t over yet. Footsteps clattered on the road as the enemy soldiers closed in.

  Relia cycled her mana, letting the currents flow freely through every limb. How long had she gone without cycling? Probably just a few hours, judging by the sun. But her whole body felt like a clenched fist as she stretched it back out. Life mana gushed out from her left hand, forming a green and gold cloud around her friends. It pierced their bodies, and she breathed a second sigh of relief as it healed their wounds.

  This spurred the enemy soldiers into motion, and they struck with a volley of bullets and Missiles. But Relia had predicted that, too. She threw up her right hand and released the technique she’d been gathering there. A dome of pure mana formed around their group, nothing like the hasty Construct she’d cobbled together before. This was sturdy and solid, breaking the volley like raindrops against a stone wall.

  Relia sprang into motion after that, planting both feet in a wide stance and stretching out her arms to either side. Her mana reached a crescendo inside her, and she unleashed two volleys of her own.

  The soldiers raised walls of ice and metal, She tried to weave her mana through the gaps, but her enemies weren’t idle. While half of them raised the defenses, the other half unleashed a second wave of attacks.

  Relia gritted her teeth as her own mana smashed against their shield. This was the problem with being outnumbered; you couldn’t attack and defend yourself at the same time. Even the Martials had nearly overwhelmed her with these tactics. But at least their attacks had been weak.

  She switched to her aspect without a second thought, taking cover in the van’s remains. The mana gushed out from her hands in a colored mist, and she wrapped that mist in spheres of pure mana.

  Before, she’d always struggled to manifest the other side of life mana. To truly command an aspect, you had to understand it as intimately as your own reflection. But she’d taken dozens of lives on Arkala, and she’d held countless more in her hands. Each one gave her a deeper understanding of death, and the power she wielded. She’d also walked that line herself this last hour, clinging to life, knowing any mistake might be her last.

  In that moment, despite the day’s hardship, Relia was stronger than she’d ever been before.

  Mana bombarded the van’s remains, tearing through the sides like wet paper. She endured their attacks with both Cloak techniques, along with the strength of her Apprentice body. She’d spent years tempering this against her own condition, and their techniques were nothing compared to the crystals inside her.

  A dozen blue spheres formed around her body, and she hurled them forward against the enemy lines. Their shields held, and Relia strained to keep her techniques together as she pulled them back.

  Akari and Kalden tried to get up, but Relia rounded on them. “No!” she shouted. “Stay down.”

  She pulled her mana back and struck the second group. Her spheres spun in a Circuit technique, shaped like a massive figure-eight. Relia stood at the neck of that shape, while her enemies stood caught in the loops. Her own mana moved faster than a tornado now, knocking hundreds of their techniques from midair, gaining more momentum with every turn.

  Eventually, her attacks carved a gap in the shield wall; a single gap was all she needed. Breaking skin was hard, especially on a fellow Apprentice. But human bodies had evolved to let healing mana inside them. Now, as the gold and green clouds filled the enemy dome, their bodies accepted her attacks like a peace offering.

  Pain would follow, and they couldn’t help but flare their Cloak techniques when it did. But cycling only made it worse. No matter where her mana touched, their channels would carry it back to their hearts and brains

  The shields flicked out on both sides, and they all died coughing and screaming.

  Relia wanted to pull her senses back—to drown out their pain and pretend she hadn’t caused it. But no . . . she stood her ground and watched. She owed them that much.

  As the sounds of death faded, her friends climbed slowly to their feet. She’d healed their wounds, but you couldn’t tell by looking at them. Blood covered their skin, and metal mana had shredded their clothing.

  Relia stumbled toward the group, feeling breathless and dizzy. For all that, her smile was genuine as she met their eyes. “I’d give you all a hug right now, but I’m kind of a hot mess.”

  Akari and Kalden returned her smile, but Arturo took a step back.

  “You’re a cultist,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Relia lowered her eyes. She’d been so focused on her relief until now, she hadn’t realized what they’d just seen.

  Arturo cursed a string of Cadrian words under his breath. “I risked my life for a death artist.”

  “It’s not death mana!” she countered.

  “You were holding back.” He jabbed a finger at her “The first time we fought together.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t ask for these techniques.”

  “Bullshit. I saw what you did just now. That would take years to learn.”

  “Elend made me learn that, but I never wanted it. I chose this aspect for my condition. I did it to survive.”

  “All the cultists say that,” Arturo said. “They all have excuses.”

  “What would you do?” she shot back. “What if the world decides your aspect is evil? Would you stop fighting just because it bothers them?” Her words jumbled together as she spoke, and tears formed at the edges of her eyes. This always happened when she got too close to people—when they saw what she really was.

  Kalden and Akari were the exceptions to that rule, but she’d known Arturo wouldn’t understand.

  More sirens blared in the distance, and she spotted a pair of helicopters on the eastern skyline.

  “It all makes sense now,” Arturo muttered. “You did those techniques on camera. That’s why they chased us so hard. ”

  “Can we talk about this later?” Kalden said. “We need to get off this bridge.”

  “She can’t go back to the Unmarked,” Arturo said.

  “I’m not your enemy!” Relia shouted.

  “Everyone’s your enemy!” he shot back

  “Screw you!” Akari stepped up beside Relia, glaring at Arturo. “You can’t stop her from going back.”

  Angels bless that girl and her bloodthirsty heart.

  Arturo ignored her as he ran a hand through his black hair. “You’re gonna start a war.”

  “You’re already at war,” Kalden said.

  Arturo pointed a finger at him. “You’ve been here for two weeks, shoko. Don’t pretend you understand us.” He turned back to Relia. “Innocents will die because of you. We’ll lose support all over Creta.”

  Relia held out her hands. “We’d all be dead if I didn’t defend us. What else do you want from me?”

  The helicopters grew louder as they approached.

  “Seriously,” Kalden said. “We need to go. This bridge has catwalks below, right?” He pointed toward the open gate. “This might be a way down.”

  “You do whatever you want,” Arturo said. “But I’m done.” And with that, he jogged toward the structure Kalden had indicated.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Relia should have been used to people walking away by now, but it never got any easier.

  They followed Arturo toward the booth, stepping around the bodies that littered the street. Like so many other guard stations around Tureko, this one looked like a repurposed toll booth. A wall of protection mana separated both sides of the road, preventing anyone from coming or going.

  An open door greeted them inside the booth, and a hole of smoldering metal remained in place of the handle. The scent of fire mana hung heavy in the air.

  Relia and the others followed a rickety steel staircase down onto the catwalks below. She’d half-expected Arturo to sabotage their path with explosives, but at least he hadn’t done anything that petty.

  Not yet, at least.

  The catwalks offered an unbroken view of the river below, more than a hundred feet beneath their shoes. By now, the sun had started to set, and the bottom of the bridge was cloaked by shadows and metal rafters.

  Arturo was long gone, but that was no surprise. The shore was only a mile away, and most Apprentices could sprint that distance in three or four minutes.

  She and the others walked in relative silence, clutching the rails as the massive bridge swayed in the wind. Kalden and Akari exchanged some words behind her, and Relia caught bits of their conversation.

  Apparently, Kalden had merged his memories with his past self, and this brought his soul to the peak of Gold. Akari followed with a hundred questions, sounding equal parts jealous and determined.

  The catwalk ended as they reached Unida’s territory, and they climbed a second staircase toward the bridge’s surface. No sooner had they crested the top than they found a group of Unmarked soldiers waiting for them.

  One of the guards was a muscular dragon, six and a half feet tall with dark green scales. That must be Kyzar’s younger brother, Zukan.

  “Dawnfire?” the dragon asked in a gravelly voice

  “Yep,” Relia said with a weary sigh. “That’s me.”

  “The Artisans want to see you. Now.”

  Akariel’s ashes. This can’t be good.

  ~~~

  Kalden walked in silence with the others, still stunned by the memories that flooded his mind. They hit him in waves, one after the other, all triggered by his surroundings. A row of palm trees grew on the curb, and he remembered a trip to Vaslana with his family. They passed through the doors of an old department store, and the smell brought back memories of school recess in Last Haven.

  His mind didn’t even bother to separate the two lives anymore. It was all one life now, from his early childhood until this moment. Just thinking about that fact made him lightheaded. His childhood had been a blur until now, but he’d never questioned it. Why would he? He’d never known anything different. Everyone on Arkala had their lives stolen by some mysterious Mystic, but no one knew or cared.

  Kalden had thought he understood that before, but knowing it wasn’t the same as feeling the weight of that life behind him.

  Their escorts ushered them up a staircase at the back of the store, and Kalden followed in a daze. Before, Relia’s pill had given him a goal to focus on. Now, his fate was entirely in someone else’s hands.

  These guards were all Apprentice level, and Zukan ranked among their best fighters. Even if they could fight their way out, they couldn’t afford to make more enemies.

  They climbed three flights of stairs, stopping when they reached the top level. A door hung open at the end of the corridor and two Artisans stood in a corner conference room with windows that overlooked the river.

  They already knew Kyzar; He was the Artisan who led the Unmarked in all but name. Tall and straight-backed, he wore a white linen shirt that hung open to reveal his scaley chest.

  Meanwhile, Valdez served as their public face. He looked like a war veteran with his weathered skin, silver hair, and thick muscular arms. Only his goatee ruined the image—the edges were perfectly crisp, as if he’d just trimmed them five minutes ago.

  Kyzar dismissed Zukan and the other guards, and Relia stepped through the doorway.

  “This is Dawnfire?” Valdez asked.

  “That’s me,” Relia said. She tried to put on a strong face, but she couldn’t hide her weariness.

  Kyzar nodded his confirmation, but it hardly seemed necessary. Relia’s face appeared on multiple monitors throughout the room. One showed a paused video of her fight in the hotel bathroom, and another showed her on the bridge.

  Finally, a third screen showed hundreds of Grevandi gathering around that same bridge. Unlike the other screens, this one looked like live footage.

  Kyzar introduced Kalden and Akari, but Valdez waved a dismissive hand.

  “Just Dawnfire,” he said. “You two wait outside.”

  Akari didn’t budge. “We go wherever she—”

  Valdez flicked his finger at Akari, and a burst of air mana tossed her out the door. Kalden winced as she slammed into the drywall across the hall, hard enough to leave a dent.

  The Artisan pointed a finger at Kalden. “I don’t repeat myself, shoko.”

  “Just leaving.” Kalden threw up his hands and retreated into the hallway. He didn’t close the door behind him, but no one objected.

  Akari glared back into the room as she found her footing again. For a second, she looked ready to charge back inside with mana blazing. Instead, she stuck her hands inside her hoodie pockets, muttering obscenities under her breath.

  Kalden leaned against the wall, and she joined him there, close enough that their shoulders touched.

  “Alright,” Valdez said in Cadrian. “Let’s stick the girl in a van and send her back.”

  Kalden froze. He’d gotten better with the local dialect these past few months, but Relia just spoke basic phrases. She’d have no idea what they were saying.

  “We’ll release a statement,” he continued. “Explain how she’s a foreigner. Maybe we can stop this shit storm before it gets worse.”

  “No,” Kyzar answered in Espirian. “I sent them across the river. This is on me.”

  Valdez let out a breath and continued in the same language. “I don’t give a shit whose fault this is. You can’t fix it.”

  “I brought them into the Unmarked,” Kyzar said “And they did their jobs. We don’t—”

  The other man slammed a fist on the table. “Dawnfire’s not one of us! She’s a cultist!”

  Kyzar turned to face her. “Are you a cultist, young lady?”

  “No!” Relia said at once.

  The dragon nodded as if that settled the matter. “I already knew about her aspect. She uses it to manage a medical condition. She has no ties to the Cult of Trelian.”

  They’d told Kyzar about Relia’s condition, but not the part about her aspect. Was he bluffing about that? He must be.

  “I don’t care if she heals kittens with cancer,” the other man snapped back. “People think she’s a cultist. That’s all that matters. We can save lives if we give her up.”

  “Have you forgotten our name?” Kyzar said. “Liberta fights for freedom, not for peace.”

  “Who cares about freedom if we all die?”

  “There are worse things than dying.” Kyzar said. “Like spineless leaders who sacrifice their allies for peace.”

  “I like him,” Akari muttered from beside Kalden.

  No surprise there. At least they had one friend on this side of the river.

  “I get it.” Valdez spread his palms in a wide gesture. “You dragons are reckless and bloodthirsty. But some of us have families over here. They’ll pay the price if the Grevandi attack.”

  Kyzar ignored that comment. “I left Unida for bullshit like this. Because my cousins would do anything to win.”

  “This is different, and you know it. We’re a democracy. The others agree with me.”

  “They’re scared and stupid,” Kyzar said. “This goes against everything we stand for.”

  Valdez shook his head. “They’ll switch sides if we keep her.”

  “This is bullshit.” Akari clenched her hands into fists, and he could practically feel the mana racing through her channels “I’d take real enemies over this guy.”

  Kalden bobbed his head in vague agreement. But this was out of their hands now. Fortunately, Kyzar was the stronger of the two leaders, and he seemed like he’d honor their deal.

  Akari craned her neck to meet his eyes. “You gonna do something or not?”

  “What?” Kalden blinked down at her.

  “I dunno. Say something to him.”

  Kalden shook his head. “Valdez won’t listen to me.”

  “Then make him listen. Say something smart.”

  “They’re Artisans. It’s not a fight we can win.”

  Akari glared up at him. “You’re not the Kalden I know.”

  He recoiled, putting several inches between them. “That’s not fair. I did my part—I made Relia’s pill.”

  “I did my part,” she echoed with a scoff. “Like I said—not the Kalden I know.”

  He let out a long sigh. “How about you do something?”

  Akari ignored that comment and stared into his eyes. “You look like you did before. In Last Haven. All that mana’s messing with your head.”

  “I’m still me,” Kalden said. “I’m just picking my battles.” But then . . . what if she was right? Was this him in control, or was it his past self? Was there even a difference anymore?

  Kalden already knew the answer to that. He thought he’d left those feelings behind him, but helplessness was a learned trait, and he'd spent more than a decade following his parents’ orders. He'd struck off on his own before—like when he'd trained with Akari—but he'd never truly stood up for himself.

  That didn’t make him wrong, though. Every good general knew when to retreat.

  He thought back to the moment before he’d merged his two selves. Apathy had been his worst fear, but he’d pushed through it, trusting Akari to pull him back if he fell too far. She was reckless and impatient, but she always took action. That was the quality he’d admired most about her.

  Kalden must have zoned out, because Akari punched him in the chest. It wasn’t a friendly punch, either. She punched him as if she meant to release a Missile, channeling energy all the way from the floor. She twisted her upper body and exhaled a full breath, sending him stumbling back into the wall.

  “Snap out of it!” She raised her fist again, but seemed to think better of it. “What if we were in charge?”

  Kalden adjusted his stance and prepared to block any more attacks. “In charge of what?”

  “The Unmarked.” She waved a hand at the conference room. “What would we do?”

  He blinked as the ideas raced through his mind. “I guess I would—”

  “Don’t tell me.” Akari grabbed his arm and shoved him toward the conference room. “Tell them.”

  He stepped toward the doorway before he could stop himself, his mind still racing for a solution. Kyzar had tried appealing to the other man’s sense of honor, but that wasn’t working. Either Kyzar would have to overpower Valdez to get his way, or he’d have to concede. The former seemed more likely, but that was still bad news for Kalden and his friends. Valdez was the second-strongest fighter on this side of the river, and they didn’t want him as an enemy.

  Kalden crossed the room in three strides, taking his place beside Relia. Akari followed a few paces behind him.

  “Permission to speak?” he asked the Artisans.

  “Denied,” Valdez snapped.

  “Granted,” Kyzar said at the same time.

  Good enough. Kalden drew in another deep breath as he turned to face the human. “You can’t appease an angry mob. They’ll sense weakness if you give in. They'll push even harder next time.”

  The older man stepped forward. He was shorter than Kalden by several inches, but he still seemed to tower over him. “There’s room for two in that van, shoko.”

  Kalden raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “But you won’t lose support if you stand your ground. The Unmarked already chose sides. They’ll double down when the fighting starts.”

  Valdez gave a bitter laugh. “You haven’t been in Creta long, have you? Zantano makes us look like crazy extremists on the news.”

  “Exactly.” Kalden gestured to the screen on the wall. “He’s using Relia to make you look bad, but he’s not attacking you. The Grevandi are. That’s the best-case scenario for us.”

  “He’s right,” Kyzar said. “Everyone will focus on the battle, and we’ll be the defenders.”

  “This lets you show your strength,” Kalden added. “Most rebellions never get that chance.”

  Valdez mulled that over. “Our strength might not be enough.”

  Kalden furrowed his brow. “How many Artisans do the Grevandi have?”

  “I’m not worried about the Grevandi.” He turned to Relia. “You killed dozens of Claws today, and they’ve got the footage to prove it. They’ll send the Fangs after you for that. And the Wings are always a looming threat. Not to mention the Dragonlord himself.”

  They’d all seen Zantano flying over the city in his full dragon form, casting a dark shadow over the streets. People claimed a single Missile from him could level city blocks. Other nations might get involved if that happened, but that wouldn’t help the thousands who died.

  Relia cleared her throat and spoke for the first time. “That’s why we should stick with the plan. The Dragonlord’s holding my master prisoner. We can call his wife for help, and the Espirian military, too. We just need access to a computer.”

  Kyzar tapped his claws together and nodded. “How long will it take Irina Darklight to get here?”

  Relia gave an apologetic shrug. “Best case scenario? By morning.”

  Valdez remained silent for several long seconds. His eyes darted to the various screens, and he looked like he might object again.

  Finally, he turned back to Kalden’s group, settling his eyes on Relia. “Guess we’d better get to work.”