That night, Akari dreamt of her old life in Last Haven. She’d been avoiding these dreams for reasons she couldn’t explain. Even in Vordica, she’d held them back with all her mental might. But the day’s match had left her exhausted, and the pressure had been building up for weeks, like a Missile beneath her skin.

Now, Elend’s technique finally broke through, and the memories returned in full force.

“Where are we going?” Emberlyn asked from several paces behind her. It was early Hexember, and most of the trees had dropped their leaves, leaving a damp layer on the forest floor.

“I told you,” Akari hollered back. “We’re training.”

“Yeah, but why here?”

“You’ll see.” Akari kept hiking up the hill until they reached a ruined stone wall. Parts of it had broken off over the centuries, and leaves and vines covered its worn surface. Akari led her friend under a curved archway into a simple stone arena, far smaller than the ones they used in modern duels.

“This is part of the original Last Haven sect,” she said. “It’s what our mountain was named after.”

Emberlyn glanced around, clutching the straps of her pink backpack. “What happened to it?”

Akari shrugged. “Same thing that happens to all big mana artists. They pissed off someone bigger.”

“So why are we here?” Emberlyn asked again. “Why not train on the playground like normal people?”

“I’m teaching you self-defense.” Akari unshouldered her own backpack and dropped it at the edge of the ring. “You can’t do that just anywhere. People would think we’re fighting for real.”

The other girl frowned. “You know my dad taught me self-defense, right?”

“He taught you the techniques,” Akari said. “But you don’t have the killer instinct.”

Emberlyn’s frown deepened.

“It’s an expression,” Akari said. “Means you attack your enemy instead of freezing up. You don’t have it. That’s why kids like Kazo walk all over you.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Well, maybe you won’t have to. People will leave you alone if you look tough enough.”

“You never study in school,” Emberlyn said. “How come you know so much about this?”

Akari rolled her eyes. “I don’t care about all that stuff in school. I just wanna fight.”

“You’ve been watching way too many movies,” Emberlyn said with a laugh. “You know mana artists need to study, right? They’re gonna make you train a lot once we’re in high school.”

“I train,” Akari retorted. “Just not how they want me to.” She gestured at their surroundings. “Why do you think we’re here?”

“Okay.” Emberlyn shot another weary glance over her shoulder. “So . . . what do we do?”

“You said your dad taught you some moves, right? Let’s see your shield.”

Emberlyn cycled pure mana and formed a flat shield in front of her face. The Construct was at least two feet in diameter, but it took her several seconds to form. That wouldn’t do in a real fight.

“Okay.” Akari cycled her own mana and threw up her fists. “Let’s see how it holds up.”

A Missile flew from her right hand, colliding with the center of Emberlyn’s shield. The other girl staggered from the impact, but she kept her feet planted on the ground.

“Nice,” Akari said. Until now, she’d never seen Emberlyn perform a true combat technique, and she wasn’t sure what to expect. “See? You could totally handle Kazo.”

Emberlyn dropped her shield in favor of a grin. “Glad you approve.”

“We just need to work on your speed,” Akari said. “But that’ll be easy. Your form’s solid, and you’ve got plenty of mana. Those are the hard parts.”

They spent the next hour practicing their Missile and Construct techniques. Emberlyn’s speed improved quickly, which meant she’d probably learned all this before. All that time in the alchemy lab must have left her rusty.

Her Missiles were less impressive, but that was no surprise. Clan Frostblade had always favored offensive Construct techniques over Missiles. Apparently, her father’s Constructs were so sharp, he could slice a person clean in two. Akari wouldn’t mind seeing that someday. On a training dummy, of course. Unless their sect got attacked by an invading army or something. That wouldn’t be so bad, either.

Her own parents were more bookish . . . sort of like Emberlyn. They’d probably just run and hide if this place were ever attacked.

Mana whistled through the air as they exchanged more techniques. Emberlyn’s confidence grew by the second, and Akari’s excitement grew with it. They’d been friends for years, but Emberlyn had a lot of boring hobbies like reading, cooking, or making crafts.

Now, they were doing something fun! And this was just the beginning. If they kept this up, then Akari might have a real training partner this summer. Then the high school would have to let her in their dueling program, no matter what her parents said. Maybe she could even convince Emberlyn to join with her?

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Together, they’d be unstoppable.

Akari’s mana flew faster, and she began sharpening her Missiles. Emberlyn kept pace with her the whole time as she dodged and weaved through the blue storm. And when she blocked, her Constructs were much smaller and quicker than before. Just a quick flash of light—no more power than she needed.

Her father had clearly taught her well. Why would anyone waste time with alchemy when they could be doing this?

Emberlyn raised a palm to her right, knocking a Missile from midair. Akari’s eyes took in every detail of her opponent. Her weight was on her right foot, and her muscles were tense. Mana gathered in her left hand, but it looked more like a Missile than a Construct.

Akari saw Emberlyn’s next move in her mind’s eye, clear as a written promise. The other girl would leap to her left and curve a Missile around Akari’s defenses. But not if Akari shot first. Then Emberlyn would have to abandon her attack and make a shield instead.

Mana flew from Akari’s palm, faster than a sprinting raptor. The technique caught Emberlyn off balance. She raised a hand to defend herself, but she was too slow. The technique tore through her left hand, drawing blood between her thumb and index finger. It grazed her face after that, and a cry of pain escaped her mouth.

Akari froze in place. She’d been in her share of fights, but those were simple kicks and punches. She’d never hurt someone for real.

Emberlyn sank to her knees and raised a shaking hand to her cheek. A thin line of red appeared where Akari’s Missile had cut her.

That didn’t look too bad. Akari had skinned her knees way worse than that.

The cut widened over the next few heartbeats. Blood poured out from the opening, leaving several thick trails of crimson. Some flowed toward Emberlyn’s mouth, while others ran down her jaw, dripping onto the sleeves of her jacket.

Oh, shit.

She tried to apologize, but Emberlyn didn’t seem to hear her. Fortunately, Akari had prepared for this, and she ran to retrieve the healing potion from her backpack. She’d never gotten hurt during training, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d heard stories of kids getting injured far from home, and she knew it could happen to anyone.

“Here.” Akari knelt beside her friend and uncorked the glass vial. “Drink this. Quick.”

“What?” The other girl glanced up through her tears. “What is it?”

“A healing potion.”

Emberlyn moved a strand of blonde hair from her eyes, but her fingers stained it red. That just made her cry harder.

“Just drink it.” Akari shoved the vial toward her mouth, swishing around the red liquid within. “You’ll feel better.”

“My mom said . . . ” Emberlyn trailed off with a sniffle. “. . . not safe for kids.”

“This one’s safe,” Akari said. “My parents had me take one before.”

Emberlyn raked in a deep breath and wiped her eyes dry on her sleeve. “Maybe I should just go home—have my mom look at it.”

“We’re like two miles from your house,” Akari said. “What if you pass out from blood loss?”

That had clearly been the wrong thing to say, because the other girl started sobbing again.

“This is safe,” Akari repeated. Mrs. Frostblade already didn’t like Akari, and this wouldn’t help in that regard. The woman also had a tendency to overreact. She might be a healing artist, but Akari couldn’t bring her daughter home looking like this.

Cleaning the blood would be another matter, but it wasn’t impossible. They’d passed a stream on the way here, and Akari kept some more supplies in her backpack.

“Just take one drink,” Akari said. “Then see how you feel.” She brought it to her own lips and took a small sip. “See? It’s safe.”

Emberlyn nodded after a short pause, then brought the vial to her lips. A few more heartbeats passed, then she took the world’s smallest sip. In fact, this barely even qualified as a sip. She basically just touched the liquid with her tongue and pulled away as if it were a hot stove.

“It’s really bitter,” she said.

“Of course it is. It’s alchemy. You should know that.”

“I just make practice potions,” Emberlyn said. “I don’t actually drink them.”

Akari resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You gotta take a bigger drink. Hurry, or you’ll keep bleeding.”

Emberlyn’s violet eyes widened. Then she took a real drink. She gagged a second later, and she looked like she wanted to puke.

“Breathe,” Akari told her. “Deep breaths. Just like you tell me to do when I’m mad.”

Emberlyn followed her advice, but her breaths were shaky. “Okay. What now?”

“Cycle it,” Akari said. “Like liquid mana. Focus on your face first, then we’ll do your hand.”

Emberlyn kept breathing, and the wound on her cheek started to close.

“It’s working!” Akari said. “Come on—take another drink.”

She complied, and the wounds sealed shut over the next few minutes. At least, that’s what it looked like. It was hard to tell with all the blood on her face.

“Hang on.” Akari unzipped her backpack and pulled out a pack of wet wipes. She used those to scrub the blood from Emberlyn’s face. The wound had definitely closed, but it wasn’t as clean as she’d hoped. Instead of smooth skin, Emberlyn sported a long silver scar on her cheek.

“Oh shit,” Akari whispered. Healing artists knew how to fix wounds without leaving scars, but potions didn’t always work that way. She’d forgotten that in the heat of the moment.

“What?” Emberlyn’s eyes widened again. “It didn’t work?”

Akari shook her head. “It worked.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Akari said. “Let’s get you back.”

The two girls made their slow way back down the mountain. Akari’s legs shook the entire time, and her muscles felt like jelly after their long training session. Neither of them said a word, and that only made things worse. Did Emberlyn hate her now? And what would happen when she found out about the scar? Would she lose her best friend?

They reached the bottom of the trail and staggered into the parking lot. A few families gathered in an open clearing near their cars, but no one seemed to notice the blood.

Emberlyn must have seen the worry on Akari’s face, because she rounded on her. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you didn’t hurt me on purpose. I’m not mad at you. You know that, right?”

Akari felt some of the tension leave her muscles. She should have known her friend wouldn’t hold a grudge. Emberlyn couldn’t even stay mad at bullies, and they hurt her on purpose. Then again, Akari hadn’t told her the whole truth. Better to get it over with now. The longer she waited, the worse it would get.

She drew in a deep breath, then raised her finger toward Emberlyn’s left cheek. Her own eyes burned with tears as she struggled to find her voice. “The potion . . . It left a scar.” She winced at her own words, and her gaze fell to her Traverse shoes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you before.”

“It’s okay.” Emberlyn raised a hand to her cheek. “I already felt the scar.”

Akari rubbed the tears from her eyes. “You’re not mad?”

“It’s just a scar,” she said. “You’re my best friend. That’s way more important.”

Akari didn’t know how to respond to that. The tears flowed even harder now, but they weren’t tears of pain or regret. Thankfully, she didn’t need to say anything, because Emberlyn pulled her into a hug. Akari buried her head into the other girl’s shoulder, and she barely heard the car pull up beside them.

When they finally pulled apart, Emberlyn glanced up at the newcomer. “Mom?”

Mrs. Frostblade closed her car door as she approached the pair. The woman looked like an older version of her daughter, with strawberry blonde hair and a face as sharp as her husband’s blades.

Her eyes widened at the sight of Emberlyn. They’d cleaned up most of the blood, but a few bits still remained on her pink jacket and golden hair. Then there was the scar itself—a long, silver line from her mouth to her ear.

The woman turned her gaze toward Akari, and the worry turned to anger. “What have you done?”