Kalden tried to break free, but it was no use. Ice froze his body in place, and even the mana in his channels refused to budge. He hadn’t been this paralyzed since the Battle of Tureko when Elend froze the entire city.

This man was certainly no Elend Darklight. Unfortunately, Elend wasn’t here right now, and this group was no match for a Master.

Roth’s dark violet robe billowed behind him as he strode down the hallway. Darkness shrouded his face, and ice mana flowed out of him like pale smoke. The vines and spikes retreated as he drew closer, along with the unbearable cold. Even so, Kalden’s muscles refused to obey him. Everyone else had the same problem, judging by the eerie silence.

A black-clad Artisan approached on Roth’s right, unaffected by the technique. This man wore no helmet, but Kalden struggled to make out his face.

“Amazing.” Roth’s voice had a deep, menacing quality. Kalden had never seen the professor in person, but he assumed the distortion was part of the disguise. “Your best Artisans lost to a group of children?”

“We underestimated them,” the second figure said. Kalden looked up and saw his brother’s face. Damnit. Akari was right . . . but why was Sozen here? Why would he work with a group like this?

“Where’s the Space Artist?” Roth asked.

“Here, sir!” Footsteps pounded against the stone floor as a third figure joined them in the corridor.

Roth nodded as he stepped over to where Akari lay. “Make a portal to Creta and take Zeller with you. Leave the others.”

The Space Artist got to work. Kalden didn’t know much about long-distance portals, but it seemed like a lengthier process than what Akari normally did. As he worked, Akari’s body rose from the ground as if it were suspended from invisible ropes. Then she hung like a ragdoll in front of the robed man.

Slowly, she lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Nice robe, Dansin. What—did Irina’s have a sale?”

Kalden furrowed his brow before he remembered that Irina’s was a women’s clothing store.

Roth just shook his head. “No need to be rude, Miss Zeller. In all honesty, I admire your ruthlessness.” He glanced down at the black-clad body by his feet. “What is this, the third Artisan you’ve killed this year? An impressive feat for your age.”

The portal opened behind Roth, starting as a pinprick, and slowly growing to the width of the creator’s hand.

“Unfortunately,” he said, “your antics pissed off the wrong people.”

Sozen stood by the portal like a sentry, occasionally glancing down at his watch. Was he waiting for something to happen?

Kalden drew in a breath as he regained control of his tongue. Zukan and the others all appeared unconscious, but his proximity to Akari must have kept him awake.

“Sozen,” he said in a dry voice.

His brother glanced down and met his eyes.

“Why work with them? The Sons of Talek could be involved in—”

“Don’t talk about our home,” Sozen cut in. “Not here.”

Roth turned to face them as if he were genuinely interested in the exchange.

Any other day, Kalden would have agreed with his brother. But Sozen didn’t know about this group’s connection to Last Haven. Even if he knew that Ashur Moonfire was a member, he had no way of knowing about Akari’s meeting in the diner. Elend had explicitly forbidden them from mentioning it.

Sozen shook his head. “The path to power is rarely easy, little brother. Sometimes, we need to make uncomfortable choices along the way.”

Stolen story; please report.

“You don’t have to do this,” Kalden said. “If this is about power, the Darklights can help you.” It wasn’t his best attempt to sway someone, but he’d used up all of his persuasive skills that day. Now, it took all his strength just to stay awake.

Akari must have felt the same way, because she didn’t bother with more insults. Or, more likely, Roth had silenced her with some unseen technique.

The portal grew wide enough to walk through, and Kalden spotted a golden hallway beyond. Creta, no doubt.

Akari’s body floated toward the opening. Several dragons gathered on the other side, ready to grab her.

Sozen checked his watch for the third time, muttering a curse under his breath. His body looked like a coiled spring, far more anxious than Roth or the Space Artist. Something else was going on here, but what?

Several more heartbeats passed, then his brother seized the Space Artist with both hands, hurling him through his own portal. A few dragons rushed forward, raising their own weapons and techniques. Kalden had barely processed the sight before the portal broke into mist.

Roth didn’t hesitate. He hurled Akari’s body against the wall and struck Sozen with a flurry of ice projectiles. Sozen had no chance to dodge or defend himself. Even so, Roth’s techniques seemed to unravel in midair, the same way the portal had. The ice mana broke into raw energy, and the energy spun like a whirlpool, sucked straight into Sozen’s soul.

Ice filled the room once again as Roth unleashed his full power. Several techniques whistled as they cut the air like blades. Others struck the walls with a sound like breaking rocks.

Kalden shifted his head to where Akari lay. She faced away from him, but her body rose and fell with steady breaths. “You alright?” he called out.

“I’ll live,” she muttered.

Kalden nodded as he turned back to the fight. Sozen was just an Artisan; he shouldn’t be able to block Master-level techniques, much less destroy them. Even another Master would struggle to pull off such a feat. For all that, his brother held his own. Roth’s mana flew too fast to see, but every technique vanished mere inches from Sozen’s skin.

“Your brother’s an Aeon,” Akari said.

“What?” Kalden had to shout over the chaos of the battle.

“Aeons can move mana with their minds,” she said. “Same way Masters can. And they absorb it in their souls.”

“What?” Elend had been researching Aeons a lot since Creta, but Kalden had been too busy with his other studies. Aeons were even rarer than Mystics on this planet, and he’d never expected to run into one.

How could Sozen have done this? And why?

The second question became more obvious as the fight continued. Dansin Roth was a Master—a full two decades older than anyone else here—but Sozen held his own.

This is it, Kalden realized. This was the power they’d need to reach Master by twenty-one. This was the power they’d need to save Relia, and their home.

The fight went on for several more seconds until Roth overwhelmed Sozen. Blocks of ice mana froze his legs and lower torso, thick as ancient tree trunks. Sozen tried to absorb this, but he couldn’t keep up. For all his skill, he was still stuck with an Artisan’s body. He could withstand Roth’s mana, but not the cold.

The ice spread to Sozen’s upper torso, trapping his left arm. Roth kept up his assault as he strode forward. Neither of them spoke a word.

Power gathered in Sozen’s free hand as he prepared his first real technique. A weapon sprang out from his palm, but it wasn’t blade mana. This was a weapon of pale blue crystal, and a storm raged beneath its surface.

Roth lashed out with his right hand, hurling an ice projectile at Sozen’s blade. Sozen deflected the attack, and his blade cut down in a vertical arc.

Roth let out a cry of pain. Space warped around him, and he vanished into thin air. It looked like a personal displacer, like the ones they’d used to bring students from the arena.

The cloud of ice mana faded, and only a bloody, severed hand remained on the concrete floor.

Sozen slashed his blade several more times, cutting through the ice that held him.

“You were never with the Sons of Talek,” Kalden said. “You were undercover.” In hindsight, he was an idiot for not seeing it sooner. How else could those kidnappers have been so incompetent?

He nodded once. “I was here to protect Akari.” He slashed his blade again and pulled more of the ice mana into his soul.

Well, that explained why he’d been checking his watch and looking anxious. He’d been hoping that Elend and Irina would get here first. Then he wouldn’t need to reveal himself.

“I’m sorry,” Sozen said. “I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t let anyone find me here.”

Golden mana flooded the corridor as he spoke—millions of tiny knowledge Missiles flowing in one massive current.

Irina’s Cloak of a Thousand Eyes.

A second wave of mana swept through the labyrinth of maintenance tunnels, and Kalden’s body froze for the second time that day. This was nothing like Roth’s ice technique. Instead, this was completely painless and natural, as if it came from his own mind.

“I have to go.” Sozen’s fingers leapt for the device on his belt, but his own body froze mid-motion, and his finger hung an inch from the button.

The hall shook as if a meteorite had just crashed into the earth above. Fragments of the stone ceiling flew down around them. Mana conduits exploded with bursts of violet mist, and the lights flickered out.

Finally, Elend Darklight broke through the ceiling, landing in a pile of stone rubble.

“No, I think not.” He thrust a hand toward Sozen, pulling him closer with strands of pure mana. “You’re coming with me, lad.”