Akari’s eyes shot open. She’d been dreaming of Emberlyn again—some nonsense about the power of love and friendship. Her heart thundered in her chest, and sweat covered her skin, soaking through her pajamas.

That dream . . . Emberlyn’s mother.

Akari closed her eyes and saw the woman’s face clear in her mind’s eye. Her hands shivered like leaves in the wind. She tried to clear the sight from her mind, but it didn’t fade. The image was bright against the darkness, like a fever dream in perfect clarity. She couldn’t escape it, no matter how hard she tried.

What the hell is this?

Mana raced through her channels. Her core muscles convulsed, sending her head thrashing against the pillow. Her legs did the same beneath the blankets. She was in a dark basement, and she tried curling into a ball to protect herself.

No . . . no, that wasn’t her. She was a mana artist. She always stood and fought her enemies

A voice spoke her name through the chaos, then something touched her shoulder. It was gentle, but it felt like an attack.

Her left arm refused to move, so she lashed out with her right, firing an upward Missile.

“Akari!” Kalden’s hands seized her shoulders. Relia flicked the lamp on between their beds, and golden light flooded the room.

She blinked up at their blurry faces. Her body tried convulsing again, but Kalden held down both her arms. Images of the dream tried to impose themselves on reality, far sharper than her actual vision.

“What happened?” Relia’s voice asked. It sounded far away, drowned out by the sounds in her mind.

“I don’t know,” Kalden’s voice replied.

“Has she done this before?”

“No. Never.”

Akari’s mana moved on instinct. She couldn’t move her arms, but she could still make a portal and . . .

She blinked when she saw a blur of red on Kalden’s cheek. Her dream threatened to overtake her again, but she drew in a sharp breath and imagined herself pushing it away. At the same time, Kalden relaxed his grip.

Tears clouded Akari’s vision, and her voice hitched as she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kalden said. “You’re safe.”

Her body kept shaking as they sat her up against the headboard. She found her glasses, but that did nothing for the flashes in her mind. Relia healed Kalden’s wound, then she pulled Akari’s hoodie around her shoulders.

Kalden got her a water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and brought it to her lips. “Another dream?”

Akari gave a weak nod as she drank.

“What?” Relia looked up at him. “I thought this never happened before?”

“It’s the Construct,” Akari muttered into the bottle.

“What Construct?” Relia asked.

“Elend gave me a new one, to help me remember my dad’s spacetime lessons.” She brought a hand to the side of her face. “But something’s wrong with it. I’m seeing things that aren’t real.”

Kalden nodded, looking more sure of himself. “We should get you to Irina. She’ll know what to do.”

“Yeah,” Akari said. “Anything to get away from this.”

They took her down the hall to Room 213, the one Irina shared with Elise. Akari clutched Kalden’s arm the whole time, struggling to keep her mind fixed on the present moment. Her eyes focused straight ahead, locked on Relia’s long red hair as she led the way. She focused on the other sensations, too. The hotel’s rough carpet beneath her bare feet. The feel of Kalden’s bicep beneath her hand, and the scent of his cologne.

Relia raised her fist to knock, but Irina pulled open the door before she could. The woman had clearly been sleeping a few minutes before, but her eyes were wide and alert.

“Irina,” Kalden said. “We—”

“Not in the hall.” She pushed the door open wider and gestured them inside.

They all stepped into the room, then Irina closed the door behind them. Elise Moonfire stood awkwardly in one corner, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Akari caught a glimpse of the clock and realized it was just past three in the morning.

So much for being well-rested.

“What happened?” Irina asked as they lowered Akari onto a bed. The older woman’s eyes darted between them, taking in everything at once. The worry on Relia’s face, the blood on Kalden’s cheek, and the way Akari clutched his arm.

“That dream Construct . . .” Akari’s voice grew drier as she spoke. Kalden passed her the water bottle again, and she took a long drink. “The one Elend gave me over break. I think it’s broken.”

“Broken how?” Irina asked.

Akari took another drink. “I’m seeing things. Memories that aren’t real. I keep seeing them now, every time I close my eyes.” Then again, was she certain these memories were fake? She’d woken up halfway through the dream, but a part of her knew exactly what came next.

But no . . . that proved nothing. These memories had wormed their way deep into her brain, but that could be a glitch with Elend’s Construct. It had been like this in Creta, before she’d advanced to Gold. Now, that same technique worked against her. She’d locked the images in the closet, and they thrashed and screamed, demanding to be seen. It took all her mental strength just to stay this calm.

Irina cycled golden mana to her palms and pressed her left hand to Akari’s forehead. Akari braced herself for pain, but none came.

“The Construct is fine,” Irina said after a short pause.

“I don’t want it.” Akari made a vague gesture at her own head. “Can you get rid of it?”

Another silence followed, and Irina furrowed her brow. “I can’t.”

“What? But you’re a Grandmaster!”

“A Grandmaster knowledge artist,” she corrected. “Not a dream artist. If I rip this out with brute force, we could risk permanent brain damage.”

“How high is the risk?” Akari asked.

“Any risk is unacceptable here. Elend’s Construct is working as intended. Whatever happened, it’s not related to mana arts.”

“But she’s clearly not fine,” Kalden said. “What can we do?”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Irina settled down onto the other bed. “For starters, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“Um.” Akari shot a glance around the room, struggling to find the words. “I—”

“Not you,” Irina said in a gentle voice. She turned her gaze to Relia instead.

The other girl looked equally uncomfortable, but she pressed on. “Akari started thrashing around in her bed a few minutes ago. I think Kalden tried to wake her up, and then . . .” Relia shot them both an apologetic look. “She accidentally shot a Missile at him.”

“I’m sorry,” Akari murmured. Tears flowed from her eyes, but she didn’t dare close them for too long.

Kalden put an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

“Then she was shaking,” Relia said. “Kalden tried to calm her down, and I turned on the light. I think she stopped when she saw our faces. Then we gave her some water and brought her straight to you.”

Irina shot a glance at Akari and Kalden, but neither of them contradicted Relia’s story. Finally, the older woman turned to Elise. “She needs a technique to ward off traumatic flashbacks. I’m assuming you can handle that?”

Elise straightened her posture and stepped forward. “Of course.”

“Wait.” Akari practically flinched back as Elise knelt beside her. Her gaze flicked back to Irina. “Why can’t you do it?”

“My aspect is more theoretical. I can see the solution, but I can’t execute it. Miss Moonfire can.”

That’s bullshit, Akari wanted to say. Irina was a Grandmaster. What was the point of all that power if you couldn’t do something this basic?

Irina spoke up again, clearly sensing her skepticism. “As we gain power, we grow more specialized, not more versatile. You wouldn’t go to the world’s greatest musician and ask for a painting. I could help you with the right equipment, but our resources are limited. You need help tonight.”

“I’ve done this before,” Elise said. “Don’t worry. I won’t even know which memories I’m blocking.”

Elise’s skill had never been in question, just her intentions. What if she snuck in something else? Something that impaired Akari’s judgment and made her to walk into a trap?

No . . . Irina was sitting right here, watching everything. Besides, how long were they going to keep distrusting Elise on pure principle? She couldn’t have predicted this would happen. Yes, the girl had outmaneuvered them during the qualifying rounds, but they’d all watched the footage. Elise wasn’t a mastermind. She’d just been following her parents’ orders, blundering through plans until something worked.

Since then, she’d been a model teammate, supporting them at every opportunity. That could all be a ploy to gain their trust, but the Darklights had vouched for her. Either Akari trusted them, or she didn’t. And if she couldn’t trust them, then she was screwed no matter what.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

Mana formed in Elise’s hands, and she raised them to Akari’s temples. For the second time that day, Akari braced herself for pain and felt nothing. Several heartbeats passed, and then the memories stopped assaulting her. Chains loosened around her lungs. Tension flowed out of her muscles. Her ears stopped ringing, and the room grew clearer.

Akari met Elise’s eyes and forced out a small smile. “Thanks.”

“How long can you keep this up?” Irina asked.

“All night,” Elise said. “This technique doesn’t take much mana, but it needs two-way feedback. That means I’d need to be within twenty feet of her. Unless someone has an amplifier?”

“Wait,” Akari said. “This will happen again?”

Elise gave a helpless shrug. “I can stay in your room with you. Or you can stay here with us. Whichever works better.”

Irina nodded as if that settled the matter. “Go with them. I think Akari would rather be with her friends right now. However, I’d like a minute alone with her before you go.”

Akari looked up. “I don’t have any secrets from Kalden and Relia.”

“It’s okay,” Kalden got to his feet at once. “We’ll be in the hall.” Relia and Elise followed him out, and they closed the door behind them.

Kalden had seemed a bit too eager to leave. He might as well have said, “Please fix my crazy girlfriend for me.” Well, she couldn’t blame him. Not after she’d attacked him in her sleep. And she’d barely spent any time with him in the weeks before that. She really was a terrible girlfriend, just like she was a terrible friend, and a terrible team captain.

Irina conjured several techniques around them and sat back down on the other bed. “You’re showing signs of trauma. Whatever those memories were, I think they were real. Elend’s technique is specifically designed to separate true memories from fiction. It’s more reliable than your own thoughts.”

“No,” Akari said. “This can’t be real. It contradicts my other memories.”

Irina cradled her chin in one hand, and her eyes took on a curious expression. “Do you feel comfortable sharing the story with me?”

Akari told her about Emberlyn Frostblade, and how she’d bullied the other girl in her real memories. That part was hard to admit, especially after this recent dream, where they’d been so close. Then she told her about the playground dream, followed by their training session in the mountains of Last Haven.

That scar. Emberlyn never had a scar in the other memories, or in The Archipelago. But that didn’t prove the memory was false. Scars could be fixed if you reopened the wound and brought in a skilled healer. Akari’s missing belly button was proof of that fact.

Then again . . . Emberlyn had always worn truckloads of makeup in high school. What if she’d been hiding the scar all along?

“What happened next?” Irina asked. “After you climbed down the hill?”

“Nothing,” Akari said. “Emberlyn’s mom was there, then I woke up.”

Even as she spoke the words, the memories threatened to return. Fortunately, Elise’s technique protected her her mind, as sure as any physical Construct. Bits and pieces slipped through the gaps, but Akari used her meditation training to force them away.

Irina bit her lip and seemed to mull over her next words. “I think you should see your therapist when we get back.”

“What?” Akari furrowed her brow. “Why? We already talked about everything.”

“You talked about the fighting in Arkala and Creta. This memory happened before that. Before you met any of us.”

“Nothing happened!” Akari snapped. “I’d know if it did.”

“Not necessarily. The mind can go to great efforts to protect itself.”

Akari rolled her eyes. “I’ve fought in wars. I’ve been stabbed and shot at.” Her hands shook as she spoke, and she gritted her teeth. “I’ve seen people die. Cut in half and blown to pieces. I know that stuff messed me up. I don’t deny any of it.”

“But you’re proud of those memories,” Irina said.

“You think I like watching people die?”

“Of course not. But those memories fit your personal vision. The powerful mana artist. The freedom fighter who plans to liberate her home. You see them as necessary evils.”

Akari slumped forward, not bothering to deny it.

“But these new memories—they don’t fit that vision.”

Akari shook her head. “Can you please stop sailing around the storm? I don’t do riddles at three in the morning.”

“Fair enough.” Irina took another second to marshal her words. “Have you ever been abused before? Not in battle, but—”

Akari got to her feet. “Screw you, Irina!” She stomped toward the door, hard enough to shake the TV on the dresser.

“I’m sorry,” Irina called out from behind her. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

Akari paused with her fingers halfway around the door handle. A part of her still wanted to storm off, or shoot a Missile through the wall. But she’d also promised her team she would talk to Irina before their next match. She couldn’t leave things like this. Especially not now, after she’d caused most of them to lose an hour of sleep.

“I’m not a trained therapist,” Irina said. “And I’m not as good with people as my husband.”

Akari snorted without looking turning around. “You still have your own patients. Do you ask them stupid questions like that?”

“I told you before‚ Elend and I are opposites in many ways. He can see the answer, but not the problem itself. I can see problems clearly, but I don’t know the right words to help you.”

Akari clenched her hands into fists as she spun around. “I’m a fighter. Always have been. You think I’d just let someone hurt me?”

“It’s not about that. Not everyone has a choice.”

“I’ve always been a fighter,” Akari bit off each word as she spoke. “Even when that Mystic took my power, that never stopped me. I fought back with fists and feet. I’d keep fighting until someone killed me.”

“We do whatever it takes to survive,” Irina said. “Sometimes, that means fighting back until our last breath. Other times, it’s not so simple.” She paused before continuing more softly. “You attacked Kalden tonight. Did he fight back?”

Akari shook her head. Kalden only tried to help her.

“It was an accident,” Irina said. “He knew that, and he knew he cared about you. His body and mind didn’t have the same response they would in battle. If you’d genuinely been trying to hurt him, he wouldn’t have believed it. Not until it was too late.”

Akari crossed her arms, pulling her hoodie tighter across her chest. She already felt shitty enough as it was. Was Irina trying to make her feel even worse?

“When children are abused, their attackers are often people they trust. Or people they should trust. It’s not their fault if they don’t fight back. Sometimes, fighting back can even make things worse. A part of them understands this on a subconscious level, so they shut down. They think if they appease their attackers, they can keep themselves safe.”

A tear fell from Akari’s eye, and she moved her glasses and rubbed it away. How had this day gone so wrong? She was an Apprentice mana artist, for Talek’s sake. Not some Bronze foster kid on Arkala. She wanted to train and fight, not lie on a sofa and talk about her feelings. Why did those memories insist on following her wherever she went? Why was her own brain her biggest enemy?

“I understand if you’d rather not talk to me tonight,” Irina said. “But you won’t help anyone if you keep this bottled up.”

Akari glanced between Irina and the door. She’d just claimed to be a fighter, so she couldn’t run from this. Especially now, when she finally understood Irina’s logic.

“Fine.” She raised her chin and met the older woman’s eyes. “What do I have to do?”