They left for the party at around nine o’clock that evening. Akari wore the outfit she’d bought from Warder’s—a patterned skirt and a leather vest over a bright red top that showed off her missing belly button. Kalden’s eyes lingered on her as they left, and she gave herself a mental high-five.

The Kazalla estate was technically just five doors down, but Grandmasters liked their massive yards. That meant they had to walk at least half a mile, crossing several rivers that divided the property lines like tiny nations.

The house itself was bigger than the Darklights’, not to mention more modern, with its geometric shapes and towering windows. Lights flashed from behind the glass, and dozens of figures moved through the lower floors. They couldn’t hear any music from the street, but that made sense. If Arturo Kazalla made a habit of throwing parties, he probably had enough sound wards to keep the neighbors happy.

Her suspicions were confirmed a second later as they crossed the barrier at the front door. Talek. One second, they heard crickets and frogs singing in the river. Now, the bass was loud enough to rattle her bones.

Akari stuck close to her friends as they wove their way through the crowded foyer. Everyone here looked relaxed, but her stupid body kept bracing itself for attacks. Back in the Archipelago, Silvers and Golds had expected her to stand aside, and she'd usually break before she'd bend. And then Tureko had been even worse with its two factions all crammed into a single city. Not to mention the actual war she'd fought in.

So yeah, crowds sucked, and parties were no exception. But at least they were doing something together for once. All three of them, just like before.

They wandered into a larger room with a dance floor and a bar. Spotlights hung from the ceiling, while a cloud of mist blanketed the floor, reflecting the colors from above. The mist was definitely dream mana, but Akari couldn't say how she knew that. Maybe it was some glitch in the way it moved, like those leaves in Faeland Mall. Or maybe it was the smell. Dream mana always smelled like mana, regardless of what it pretended to be. Elend and Glim could layer fresh scents on top of theirs, but even they couldn't erase the foundation.

Kalden led them around the edges, avoiding the dance floor and heading straight for the bar. He looked good tonight, with his black denim jacket and fitted gray pants. He also looked far more relaxed than she felt.

“Double Ace of Stone, please,” he said as he leaned on the bar’s wooden counter.

The bartender pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and poured two shots into a short glass. He could have passed for a professional with his smooth movements, but he barely looked older than anyone else here.

Kalden accepted the glass and dropped a ten esper note into the tip jar.

Relia tapped Akari on the shoulder and nodded across the room. “That’s her. In the blue dress.”

Akari turned to see a young woman gliding through the room with her entourage. Her dress had hundreds of tiny mana crystals stitched into the fabric, sparkling against the light. More crystals decorated her golden braids, and it seemed like too much for a simple college party.

Elise Moonfire.

Apparently, the Moonfires had given birth to a second daughter after they’d cut ties with Relia. The odds of having two kids with krustoplegia were like one in a thousand, so it wasn’t as crazy as it sounded.

Akari almost made a snarky comment about the girl’s outfit, but the words didn’t come. All heads turned to face Elise as she passed through the room. Some people stood up straighter, and others gazed with wide-eyed envy. She wasn't overdressed. if anything, they were all—

"Okay,” Relia said. "You guys can stop gawking now."

Kalden coughed and sipped his drink. Akari kept on staring as if she had nothing to hide.

“It’s dream mana," Relia explained. “She does it to make you like her.”

“What?” Akari spun to face Relia. “You can do that?”

She nodded. “Check your Silver Sight.”

Akari relaxed her vision and took in the bright sea of souls around the dance floor. But as her eyes adjusted to the onslaught, she spotted more mana currents twisting through the air. They all flowed out from Relia’s sister, striking every mind within twenty feet.

“You’ve really never talked before?” Kalden asked.

“I tried once, but she ignored me.” Relia turned back to the bartender and asked for a virgin Sea Breeze. As usual, her body purged alcohol, so she didn’t bother drinking it.

Kalden sipped his drink again. “You think she knows?”

“Maybe. I doubt our parents confirmed anything, but they probably told her to stay away from me.”

Akari turned back to the bar and glanced at the row of liquor bottles, from dark-colored corzi to clear agavo. A few kegs of beer sat on the floor below, along with wine bottles that stuck out from the ice-filled coolers.

“Know what you want?” the bartender asked.

Akari shrugged, then shot a glance at Kalden. She’d planned to think about this some more, but now he’d put her on the spot. “Guess I’ll have whatever he had.”

“Hold on,” Relia said. “Do you even like corzi?”

“Dunno. I’ve never tried it.”

“Exactly. You’ve never drank before.”

The bartender gave her an amused grin, then went on to help someone else.

“Whose fault is that?” Akari said with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, sorry I saved you from brain damage that one time.”

“You’re saying I can’t handle corzi?”

“No, no.” Relia held out her hands. “I’m saying you need to learn Missiles before you learn Constructs.”

“Here you go.” The bartender returned with an open bottle. “Koreldon City Porter, twelve percent.”

“Perfect,” Relia said. “And remember, the corzi would’ve been forty.”

Akari nodded her thanks, then took a good long swallow. That would teach them to—

She coughed halfway through, then wrinkled her nose. Kalden and Relia each burst out laughing, and even the bartender chuckled under his breath.

“Smaller sips next time,” Kalden suggested.

Akari followed their advice as she brought the bottle back to her lips.

~~~

Kalden wandered away as Akari and Relia took to the dance floor. Neither seemed interested in breaking out of their little group, despite all that talk of building alliances.

Oh well. He should have known he’d be doing all the work tonight. Then again, did he even know what to do? Maelyn and Darren had handled his networking back on Arkala. What had they done at parties like this?

Well, Darren and Maelyn had already known everyone, so maybe that wasn’t the best comparison.

Kalden had taken the reins at the Gold parties, with his friends fading into the background. But even then, he’d already started on top of the social ladder. He’d known all the right people, and they’d known him. How was he supposed to start from scratch?

Like any other skill, he reminded himself. He’d find an ideal to aim for, then work to close the gap.

Darren and Maelyn had shown genuine interest in other people, asking them dozens of questions about their lives. Most importantly, they found out what people wanted and then helped them get it.

Kalden’s mind worked in a far more utilitarian way, always thinking of straightforward exchanges. He’d first met Akari when he offered his computer in exchange for her hacking services. It had been the same with Relia and Elend—they’d all needed help to escape the island, and they’d worked together to accomplish that goal.

But these qualifier rounds required a more subtle touch. After all, what good were simple exchanges in a game of betrayals?

And so Kalden started making his rounds through the house, introducing himself to the smaller groups. It was awkward at first, but it got better every time. The majority of people had gone through the pre-Artegium program, so they already had their friend lists carved in stone. Still, many others had transferred here from other schools, and they were eager to expand their own circles

Eventually, his rounds took him into a massive home theater with tiered seating. The screen showed a battle between Mana Artists in a massive canyon. It could have been the Everrest Gorge in New Cadria, or even the Serpent Rift in South Shoken. Hard to say from this angle.

Everyone on screen fought in smaller groups of six or seven. They looked young enough to be college students—Apprentices, judging by their techniques. Occasionally, the program broke away from the battles to show scoreboards or commentary. They even showed footage of students gathering food and sleeping in tents.

Kalden turned to someone on his left and pointed at the screen. “What is this?”

“What?” The young man turned to the screen, then back to Kalden. He was Cadrian, with his black hair cropped close to his head. His outfit was brighter than anyone else in the room—white shorts and a yellow track jacket with matching yellow sneakers. “That’s last year’s qualifying rounds.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Seriously?” Relia had mentioned a free-for-all, but he’d imagined an arena. This canyon could have gone on for miles, and those tents and campfires suggested a multi-day event.

“Yeah, shoko. You’re telling me you’ve never seen it?”

Kalden chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “I’ve been busy. Studying, training—trying to make it this far.”

“Ah.” He gave a knowing nod. “I know how that goes. Sorry, where are my manners?” He switched his beer bottle to his left hand and extended his right. “I’m your host, Arturo Kazalla.”

“Kalden Trengsen.” He reached out with his mana prosthetic and clasped the offered wrist. It still felt strange to clasp a wrist without actually feeling it, but he’d gotten much better these past few weeks.

“How long does this game last?” Kalden asked when the screen switched to another campfire scene.

“Depends,” Arturo said. “This one lasted for three days. Some go longer, some go shorter. All depends on the theme that year.”

“The Artegium really lets it drag on?”

He laughed. “You kidding, shoko? They make more on advertising than all our tuitions combined.”

Well, that explained a few things. Kalden knew they profited from the interschool battlegrounds, but he’d never known the qualifiers were televised in the same way.

Arturo was clearly an expert on this subject, and he was more than happy to talk non-stop for the next ten minutes. Kalden learned how these arenas were made of dream mana, despite being several miles wide. This let everyone use lethal techniques with no risk of injuring each other. Some years, they even had vehicles, ranging from cars to helicopters to airships.

The audience got sucked into the narrative aspect too, along with all the plots and betrayals that came with it. Invisible cameras revealed secret meetings, and those meetings revealed the students’ true nature. Some people even got famous for their personalities as well as their Mana Arts. That rubbed Kalden the wrong way, but Arturo assured him it didn’t mean much.

“People try to gain groupies,” he said. “Some even get their own online fan clubs. But it’s a waste of time. At the end the day, it all comes down to Mana Arts.”

Arturo eventually returned to his hosting duties, and Kalden returned to the main room to find his friends.

~~~

“There you are.” Akari set down her beer bottle and approached Kalden. Two drinks in, and she finally had the courage to do this. Well, technically, she’d never been afraid, but her stupid brain had held her back before.

Give him space, she’d kept thinking. Focus on training.

But that was bullshit. She’d given him an entire month to recover. And they’d gotten into the Artegium. What use was training if you didn’t savor the rewards?

I’m a badass Mana Artist, she reminded herself for the ten thousandth time. Not some socially awkward girl.

“Here I am.” Kalden stretched out his arms, looking more relaxed than he’d looked all summer. Clearly, he’d had more than one glass of corzi.

Akari took a deep breath and asked the question she’d been waiting for. “You wanna dance?”

Kalden froze, and his eyes darted between her and the crowded floor. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

Fortunately, she’d predicted his parry and planned accordingly. “They didn’t teach you dancing in the fancy Gold world?”

“They did. But that was ballroom dancing …” He trailed off, and nodded toward some people grinding against each other. “Not whatever this is.”

He’d overextended with his second deflection, and Akari seized the advantage, reaching out and taking his left hand in hers. His fingers were cool to the touch, but that was no surprise. She’d been dancing with Relia until now. That is, until Relia ditched her for some random boy.

Akari reached for his prosthetic hand next, but he pulled it away.

“Sorry,” Kalden said.

That single word hit harder than all the others, and she could do nothing but retreat.

“Don’t look so scared.” Akari forced a small laugh as she dropped his other hand. “I was just messing with you. I don’t like dancing either.”

Kalden didn’t fall for it. He held her gaze for several long heartbeats, choosing his next words with care.

Akari held her breath as she waited. She really didn’t care if they danced or not. She’d settle for one real conversation. Kalden had become the very thing Elend had warned her about—someone who lived for training at the cost of everything else. Worst of all, she didn’t know how to pull him back.

“I’m sorry for leading you on before,” Kalden said. “That wasn’t right.”

Akari stiffened, and her stomach turned to an ice cube.

His gaze broke away from hers and settled on his prosthetic hand. “I need to figure some things out first … on my own.”

That wasn’t just an excuse this time. That was a rejection, and it struck her like a Missile to the face. But why should it? She’d always known that moment on the rooftop was too good to be true.

“Don’t worry.” Akari said. “It’s cool. Do whatever you need.”

Her eyes burned, but she blinked that feeling away. By now, she’d fought in several real wars. She’d watched friends die, and she’d taken lives herself.

Those were real reasons for tears. Kalden Trengsen was not.

~~~

The following morning, Relia pulled her blue Ethereal into a free parking spot by the pier. She unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbed her Jumpstart cup, and stepped outside into the salty morning breeze.

Relia had never been a morning person. Sure, she could wake up early if she had to, but she’d never choose morning workouts like her friends. Koreldon mornings were always so cold, and no amount of clothing or coffee would make that go away.

But she had to admit, the sunrises were pretty. Even if her eyes were blurry from yawning. Relia took another long drink from her coffee cup and walked down the long wooden pier. She found Kalden sitting on a bench a few minutes later. Unlike Relia, who’d bundled up in three layers of clothing, Kalden just wore his shorts and t-shirt. She’d probably feel warmer too if she’d jogged five miles, but training was for the afternoons.

“Hey.” Kalden removed his earbuds when he saw her. “Didn’t know you came this way.”

Relia shrugged and raised her coffee cup. “Jumpstart sounded good.”

He nodded to the empty spot beside him. “Wanna sit?”

Relia sat down, and they watched the sun creep up over the gray waters.

“It feels weird,” Kalden said. “Seeing the ocean without a mana wall between us.”

Relia nodded as she took another sip of her coffee. “I was surprised the first time too. You never really get used to it.”

And that was the extent of their small talk. Another gust of wind blew over the sea, and Relia tightened her scarf. Well, she’d come here for a reason, and there was no turning back now.

She took a deep breath and turned to face Kalden. “Do you still like Akari, or not?”

“That’s a personal question.” Kalden raised an eyebrow. “Did she say to you something last night?”

“No, she said everything’s fine. She said you need your space, and she’s cool with that.”

“Okay,” Kalden said warily. “And that's a problem because … ?

“Because she’s lying.”

Kalden winced. “I was afraid of that. I know we’ve had misunderstandings before, so I tried to be as clear as I could.”

Relia clutched her cup tighter. “I know you two were almost a couple before. What happened?”

Kalden sighed. “You really woke up early and drove five miles just to ask me that?”

“Come on …” Relia trailed off, then glanced left and right as if she’d see some clever lie written in the gray waves. Nothing came.

“Yeah.” She blew out a breath of air. “Pretty much.”

“Why?” Kalden asked

“You two are my best friends. I want to help.”

“But we already talked about this last night. I don’t need any help.”

“I get it,” Relia said. “You need your space. But are you actually working through your problems, or are you pushing them under the rug?”

“I’ve already got a therapist,” Kalden said.

“Yeah, Akari said that too.” The Darklights had sent both her friends to therapy once they’d returned from Creta. That was partially to help them process the trauma of battle, but also to clear them for the Artegium. After all, the world’s top civilian combat program didn’t want to train a bunch of bloodthirsty psychopaths.

She knew Akari and Kalden had both passed, but she’d heard little beyond that.

“Anyway,” Relia said. “Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Pushing your problems under the rug.”

“Of course not.” Kalden held up his prosthetic mana hand. “I got injured, and that set me back. I’ll never be the Mana Artist I was before. ”

“It’s one thing to admit it, but are you living with it?”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes, it seems like you only live for the future. Someday, when your hands are healed. Someday, when you’re at the top of the class. But someday—”

“—never comes,” Kalden finished for her. “I know. You’ve said that before. So has Elend.”

“Well?” Relia pressed.

Kalden glanced back at the water. He obviously regretted asking her to sit down but she pressed on. Someone had to. Otherwise, they could easily go another month like this. “You think Akari likes you less because you lost your hand in battle? Knowing her, she probably—”

“No,” Kalden interrupted. “I’m not saying it’s rational.”

“I get it. You want to spend all your time brooding alone. But Akari’s the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“Remember how she always cuddled up to you after a fight?”

Kalden nodded. “She needs to feel like she’s not a monster.”

“Right, and she’s still dealing with that Last Haven stuff.”

“I told her I don’t blame her for that.”

Relia shrugged. “Like you said, it’s not rational. But the feelings are still real. You’re a perfectionist. You think everything needs to be perfect before you can be with her.”

“Guilty as charged,” Kalden said without a hint of shame.

“But Akari loves you now. You guys are both just too cool to talk about it.”

Kalden stiffened. “Let’s not make this more dramatic than it needs to be. We’ve only known each other for a year.”

Relia tried to hold up a single finger, but her mittens ruined the effect. “First of all, that’s not true. You’ve known each other since you were kids, even if the memories are fuzzy.”

For once, Kalden didn’t have a retort.

“And so what? It’s not so weird to love someone after a year. If anything, it’s weird that you think it’s weird.”

Kalden gave an irritated sigh. “Am I allowed to have space or not? Because it seems like everyone’s feelings are valid but mine.”

“Can’t you compromise somehow? Can’t you at least talk to her for more than two minutes? We’re supposed to be a team, but you’re not acting like a team player.”

Kalden’s eyes shifted, growing more focused than before. Darn it. She’d definitely said the wrong thing there. Kalden never let himself lose arguments. Escalating things was the worst move she could have made.

“What about you?” he finally asked. “Are you acting like a team player right now? We all promised each other we’d advance together, but you can’t reach Artisan this year if you don’t take soulshine.”

Relia’s blood grew cold, and it had nothing to do with the ocean wind.

“But you’re too stubborn to take it. Aren’t you putting your needs above the team there?”

“We’ve been over this,” she said. “I’ll support the soulshine industry if I take it. How many more babies will be born with krustoplegia because of me?”

“Zero,” Kalden said. “Not directly. You’ll only save yourself. Then you can use your life to make the world a better place.”

“Everyone says that,” she muttered. “Every soulshiner has an excuse, including my parents. But krustoplegia would go away if we all stopped taking it.”

“I’ve seen the numbers,” Kalden said. “You can’t escape basic math. Either you take soulshine this semester, or you’ll die.”

“I’d rather die for this cause than back down,” Relia said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I’ve been looking for alternatives. I’ve been looking all summer.”

“Irina’s a Grandmaster Knowledge Artist with forty years of experience in this field. You honestly think you’ll find something she didn’t?”

Relia hugged herself and leaned back on the bench. “I guess we’re all a mess, huh?”

“No argument there,” Kalden said. “But you know that expression about glass towers and Missiles?”

Relia nodded, and they watched the rest of the sunrise together.

Soulshine or death.

Those were her options, and she couldn’t escape them. But if she’d learned one thing in Creta, it was that she’d rather struggle with friends than succeed alone.

Despite everything, this was shaping up to be the best school year she’d ever had. Even if it might be her last.