Relia sat in the ballroom a few hours later, watching the festivities go on around her. Sapphire cloths draped the tables, and the fabric shimmered in the light of the crystal chandeliers. The sounds of piano and violin echoed all around her, mingled with the waves that crashed against the tall glass windows.
Her parents stood with a small crowd on the other side of the dance floor. Clara’s hand rested lightly on Ashur’s arm as they spoke with the president of Vaslana. Her mother’s laughter rang out across the room, sounding completely genuine.
If nothing else, the woman was an excellent actress.
Relia had already forgotten whose house this was, or why they’d come. Her parents could drag her along to these events, but they couldn't make her care about the details. Maybe Kalden or Elise could have turned things to their advantage, but Relia’s brain didn’t work that way. She just wanted to train and hang out with her friends.
So she trained in small, inconspicuous ways. She sipped her bubbly wine and tried to stop her aspect from purging the alcohol. She pulled ambient mana through her palms and noted the feel of the different aspects in her channels. She shot tiny Missiles from her hands—too faint to see without Silver Sight—and she used these Missiles to lift her food and rotate her silverware. Just a few degrees here and there.
Finally, she thought of her friends—her real family. Happy thoughts were crucial on the path to Mastery, and she couldn’t lose sight of what mattered most.
The Darklights were down in Vaslana fighting Storm’s Eye, along with several dozen other Masters and Grandmasters. But where were Akari and Kalden right now? Probably training in their new home, or fighting mana beasts downtown.
And what about Arturo and Zukan? Were they still a team, or had they gone their separate ways over the summer? The school games were still on hold, as far as Relia knew. People were less concerned with entertainment these days, and far more focused on keeping their cities safe.
At least they’d finally gotten their priorities straight. Too bad it took a murderous mana spirit to make that happen.
Footsteps echoed on the marble floor as a young man approached her table. He looked like a carbon copy of all the others, dressed in a tailored black suit.
“Excuse me, miss”—he held out a hand—“would you like to dance?”
“Sorry,” Relia said. “My stomach’s been bothering me all night. I shouldn’t . . . ” She trailed off as she caught a familiar whiff of cologne. Memories flooded her mind: laughter, arguments, and battles fought side by side. Hope flared in her chest as she looked up and met the man’s eyes.
Arturo Kazalla.
Her old teammate normally kept his face clean-shaven, along with the sides of his head. Now, he wore a more fashionable haircut, along with a short black beard. Even his voice had changed, with barely any hint of his Cadrian accent. She also spotted more more subtle changes, from the shape of his eyes, to the size of his nose. Was this dream mana? But no . . . dream mana would draw the guards’ attention. This must be good old-fashioned makeup.
“On second thought,” Relia said. “I’m feeling much better now.”
“Glad to hear it.” Arturo flashed her a smile and led her out onto the dance floor.
Their frames were stiff as they came together, but Relia wanted to melt into him. She hadn’t seen her friends all summer, and this was like a portal into her old life. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. How could this be? Her guards clearly had orders to keep the others away, otherwise they would have reached out to her weeks ago.
“I’m Sebastian Kazalla,” he said as they wove between the other dancers. “I think we’ve met before.”
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Relia played along. “Your cousin mentioned you once, but he failed to mention those dreamy eyes of yours.”
Arturo chuckled. “I’ve been telling him that for years.”
Relia tapped her fingers against his shoulder but stopped herself. She’d attended several of these events with her parents, but she’d rarely danced with anyone by choice. And she definitely hadn’t flirted with her partners like this.
If Relia had been smarter, she would have danced with more people this summer. Now, she felt the weight of the crowd’s eyes on her, a dozen questions passing between them. Her guards would probably take notice as well.
Oh well. She could always dance with someone else after this, muddy the waters a bit.
The song changed, and they moved in silence for several minutes, stepping to the fast beat of the violins. She hadn’t known Arturo could dance so well. Then again, it wasn’t that surprising. Despite his flashy clothing and Cadrian street slang, he was still the wealthy son of two Grandmasters.
In Relia’s case, her parents had forced her to learn these steps, along with a hundred other skills that a “respectable young lady” should know.
A slower song followed, and they closed the rift between them.
“Speaking of your cousin,” Relia said, “how is he?”
Arturo gave a light shrug. “He’s been busy. Trengsen and Zeller, too. I heard they made a big advancement after Storm’s Eye.”
Big advancement? She’d figured they’d reached the Artisan realm by now, but Arturo’s words seemed deliberately vague. Had they also become Aeons?
“That sounds like them.” Relia smiled again, but she tried not to let it reach her eyes. “I hope they don’t do anything too stupid.” She forced herself not to whisper the words, or sound too hopeful. If her guards were listening right now, then whispering would just make her more conspicuous.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Arturo said. “They’ve been hunting predators near the trenches. Those things are dangerous, but your friends know all their gambits.”
Relia blinked at his choice of words, turning them over in her mind. Predator’s Gambit was an obscure board game she used to play with Akari and Kalden. It involved setting traps for your opponents, and spotting the differences between prizes and bait.
Was Relia the bait in this game? Her parents had slowly given her more freedom over the summer, but she’d assumed they were testing her loyalty. She’d never realized they could be testing her friends as well.
In hindsight, it was obvious. Even if the Darklights rescued Relia, what would happen next? How could they hide from a Mystic? Not to mention the full weight of the Espirian government, and all their foreign allies.
Her father wanted the Darklights to try something. Then he could charge them both with high treason. He’d also expressed more interest in Akari and Kalden recently—not as enemies, but as potential allies. Who knew what he’d try with the Darklights out of the picture?
Arturo lifted Relia’s arm and guided her through a quick turn. They came back into frame at the edge of the dance floor near the tall windows. Twenty-foot waves crashed against the glass, reaching halfway to the ceilings.
“What do you think of the view?” Arturo asked in a light tone.
Relia followed his gaze. “Makes me nervous. I’d never want to live so close to a mana storm.”
“Yeah, I think that’s the point.”
She swayed her head from side to side. “Just another status symbol, right?”
“You can’t always run from storms,” Arturo said. “Sometimes, you have to dive in and save the people you care about.”
Her heart quickened at his words, and goosebumps ran up and down her arms. “That only works if you’re strong enough.”
“Of course. That’s why everyone races toward the Mystic realm.”
“I guess. If you’re patient enough to play the long game.”
“It might be long for you and me,” he said. “But not for everyone.”
Relia felt a nervous laugh escape her lips. Elend and Irina were still years away from advancing to the Mystic realm. Did they really intend to make her wait that long? Then again, Arturo sounded so confident. What if Akari and Kalden had actually become Aeons? That would change everything.
“Hang on tight,” Arturo said. “This next part might be difficult.”
The music slowed to a softer melody. Their hands came together, and Arturo lowered her into a dip. The lights blurred overhead, and so did their fellow dancers. By the end of the move, Arturo’s arms were fully extended, and Relia’s body hung parallel to the floor.
She extended one leg, and her core shook from the effort. A few other couples tried the same move, but no one attempted this advanced version.
“Keep holding on,” Arturo told her. His tone was still casual, but she caught a hint of something deeper in his eyes. “Just a little longer now.”
Relia lifted her other foot from the ground and wrapped it around Arturo’s calf for support. The music quickened once again, rising to a crescendo. Arturo extended his free leg and spun around. He flexed his arms at the same time, and Relia used the momentum to pull herself back into a standing position.
Arturo released her hand as the last note faded, but his touch lingered like an unspoken promise. Finally, he stepped back with a subtle bow. Relia forced herself to bow back, even as her mind raced with a hundred questions.
Just a little longer. She could handle that.