Akari froze when the last word appeared on the monitor. Her eyes scanned the message several times, certain she’d misread it.

“What the hell?” Kalden blurted out.

“I—um . . .” She ducked her head, feeling her cheeks grow hot. Her hands shook as she clutched the mouse between her fingers.

“How’s this person know your name?” he demanded. Kalden was normally so calm, even when they’d fought side by side in the tunnels. Not today.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“You don’t know?”

She shook her head. “This is impossible.”

“Clearly it’s not.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I thought you knew what you were doing. I thought we took all these precautions so no one could find us.”

“Just let me think.” She removed her hand from the mouse and wiped it dry on her skirt.

Plenty of people could hack circles around Akari, but this? This was impossible. There was nothing resembling a webcam or microphone in this room. She’d checked multiple times. The VPN obscured their IP address and showed them connecting from Shoken Port—a city down in Zoron that she’d never even visited.

They’d wiped everything from the hard drive before they started, and connected through a virtual machine. Even if someone got their real IP address, their findings should point to Kalden’s family, not her. The name ‘Akari’ wasn’t written down anywhere on this hard drive, even before they wiped it.

Something else was going on here.

Her eyes settled back on the screen. Her heart continued to race as she ran through the possibilities.

‘Akari’ had always been a popular Shokenese girl’s name. It was a shortened version of Akariel, the Archangel of Freedom. It could have been a lucky guess on Apprentice’s part. Then again, the original version of the name was even more popular. So was the Cadrian version, Akara. Not to mention the fact that ninety percent of dark web users were men. What idiot would guess a girl’s name in the first place?

Talek and Akariel were the only two Archangels, and Akari had brought up Talek in her last message. That was one possible link. But why not use the original Angel’s name in that case?

Her username was Space+Time. She’d never used that name in school. It was based on a recurring dream she had, and she’d never shared that dream with anyone. Only Kalden knew the username.

She turned her attention back toward him. “What else did you do on the dark web without me?”

“I sure as hell didn’t give out your name,” Kalden said.

“Well, someone did. Do Darren and Maelyn have my username? Are they pulling some prank on us?” As unlikely as that seemed, there weren’t a lot of other options.

“Of course not. They know we’re using the dark web to find mana arts videos. That’s all.”

“What about your family?”

“This computer is password-protected. They couldn’t access it. Trust me, I’ve been careful.”

Akari had been careful, too. Aside from Kalden and his informants, not a single person knew she’d been learning mana arts. Emberlyn had caught her in the tunnels, but she hadn’t seen her fight.

Akari swallowed and glanced back at the screen. Her first instinct was to shut down the computer and run, but that would make her look more suspicious. She’d have to take the bait.

Her fingers were still shaking when she placed them back on the keyboard. “Who’s Akari?” she asked. “Is that some clever reference I’m supposed to get?”

No reply.

Akari waited for a full minute, then two. Still Apprentice didn’t send another message.

“Shit,” she whispered. “Now he leaves us alone?”

“He has our attention,” Kalden said. “Nothing will strengthen his position more than silence.”

Sneaky bastard. If she acted too desperate, she would only prove Apprentice right.

“Drop the name thing for now,” Kalden suggested. “Ask about the videos again. He already knows we want those, so we have nothing to lose.”

Akari nodded as her fingers flickered across the keyboard. She could always come back to this conversation later. That way, she could shrug it off as an afterthought and not something that would keep her awake all night.

This time, Kalden helped her wordsmith the exact message. Apprentice had raised the stakes, and they couldn’t treat it like a casual talk anymore.

“Look,” she said, “sorry about questioning your identity, but I’m not going to believe you’re the Fugitive without proof. A lot of people around here are claiming to be him.”

That last part wasn’t true, but it seemed like a plausible lie. People pretended to be celebrities all the time online.

“But I’m still interested in the Grandmaster’s videos,” Akari continued. “Can we work something out?”

Still no reply. After a few minutes, Akari worried that Apprentice had moved on.

Finally, another message came in. “Sure! I can give you the full set of videos like I said. All twelve of them, plus more info about mana arts and the outside world. But I need your help with something in exchange.”

Akari was still considering her next reply when another message followed. “I know you don’t believe I’m the Fugitive. I also don’t care. The fact is, I’m stuck here on Arkala. I’m alone, and I don’t know who else to ask.”

Well, that was interesting. Where was the confident and cryptic person from before?

Again, she and Kalden spent a minute composing their next reply. “You want to work together? That might be an option. But first you need to drop the mysterious act and tell me the whole story.”

“I came here with four more people,” Apprentice replied. “Three of them are dead, and the other is missing.”

Akari had been following the news, and they’d never mentioned more than one. Maybe the Martials had killed the others and kept it quiet? They might have tried to cover up the whole thing if the media hadn’t seen the damage in Keylas.

“I was working with a knowledge artist who specialized in search techniques. The Martials killed him a few weeks ago. We logged into this chat room before that, and he used a technique on everyone’s username. Yours returned the name ‘Akari Clifton.’”

Clifton was her foster parents’ clan name, but Akari had never used that. What the hell was going on here?

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

She’d read a bit about knowledge mana. The aspect let you make intuitive leaps that were beyond most humans. However, all knowledge artists followed one rule: they couldn’t pull information out of thin air.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Akari sent back, “but that’s not a good enough answer. Where’d you get that name?”

“He cross-referenced it with my master’s database,” Apprentice replied. “It was a list of people we expected to find on this island.”

Akari felt her shoulders relax. Maybe a surveillance technique had linked her with the Cliftons, and assumed she was a member of their family? That seemed like a plausible error. It still didn’t explain the link to her username, but Akari doubted anyone could explain that one, not even the knowledge artist himself.

“Alright,” Akari replied, “let’s say I believe you. What do you want?”

“I think we should meet in person,” Apprentice typed back. “I know that’s probably setting off a hundred alarm bells for you right now, but there’s an army of Martials hunting me. You might be one of them for all I know.”

“Sounds like a good reason not to meet in person,” Akari said. “What would it prove, anyway? Either of us could be an undercover Martial. Seeing faces won’t change that.”

“Once you meet me,” Apprentice said, “you’ll realize I can mop the floor with any Martial.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better.”

“No, but the Martials aren’t after you. It’s a crime to distribute mana arts resources on this island, but it’s not a crime to look for them. You aren’t doing anything wrong here.”

True enough.

“I’m near White Vale now,” Apprentice said. “I’ve been hiding in the Contested Area for a few weeks, but I can make my way into town and meet you somewhere public. If either of us gets spooked, we can back out.”

White Vale was about three and a half hours away by train, and trains were free with her student badge. Getting there would take some time, but it wasn’t impossible. Especially on the weekends when her foster parents were used to having her gone.

Kalden rubbed his temple as he read the last message. “Tell him we need time to talk this over. If he’s as desperate as he pretends, he can wait a while longer.”

Akari typed back a quick message, then spun in her chair to face him. “I want to go to White Vale.”

He blinked. “Seriously? Just like that? You were ready to hang up on this guy five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, well, I thought he was some loser trying to scam me.”

“We’ve literally gotten no evidence to the contrary.”

“He knew my name,” Akari said. “And that story with the knowledge artist is the only thing that makes sense.”

“I can think of several things,” Kalden said.

She crossed her arms. “Like what?”

“Maybe the Martials are building a profile on you. Darren figured out you were a hacker who wanted to learn mana arts. Why couldn’t they? When he dropped your name, he could be throwing mud at the wall to see what stuck.”

Akari wrinkled her nose. “The Martials wouldn’t mess up my clan name.”

“No, but they might pretend to mess up to put you at ease.”

“It’s still a stupid plan.”

“It’s working, isn’t it?”

“They have my address on file,” she replied. “Will showing up in White Vale change anything?”

“Fair point,” he said. “But you’re the one who lectured me about online safety. What’s the point of all these precautions if we walk straight into the dragon’s lair?”

“It’s risky,” she said. “But so was our tunnel trip back in Hexember.”

“I almost regret that too,” Kalden said.

Akari frowned. “Why?”

“We almost died down there. We would have died if it hadn’t been for Emberlyn. That whole thing was reckless. At the very least, we should have practiced for a few more months before—”

“I don’t have that long,” Akari cut in.

Now it was Kalden’s turn to look confused. Great. She just had to open her big mouth.

“Never mind,” she said with a dismissive wave.

“No,” Kalden said. “Tell me. What’s wrong?” Akari didn’t answer, and he let out a long sigh. “I’m just trying to understand. You’re always so cautious, but you have a blind spot when it comes to mana arts.”

He should know. He’d taken advantage of that weakness when they’d started this little alliance.

“You act like we’re still living in the distant past,” Kalden said. “As if every day is some life and death struggle. But it doesn’t have to be like that.”

“You literally have stone walls around your house,” Akari said.

“Elegan’s still a safe city,” Kalden said. “I’d feel just as safe in your neighborhood.”

She turned to look him in the eye. “You know I’m in foster care, right?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I turn sixteen in Tresember. Less than two months away. Then the Cliftons will kick me out.”

Kalden blinked several more times as if he couldn’t wrap his head around that idea.

“That’s how this works,” she said. “The state doesn’t pay families to take care of foster kids over sixteen.”

“But they can choose to keep you, right? Long enough for you to get a job?”

“Won’t happen,” she said with a shake of her head. “Noella made that clear on day one. Mazren wanted me there, and she didn’t. Don’t ask me why. The whole thing’s weird.”

“I’m sorry,” Kalden said. “I didn’t know.”

“Don’t apologize. I don’t expect a free handout from anyone. I just want to help myself.”

Kalden stared at the computer screen for several long seconds, rereading the messages in the chat window. “So that’s why you’re so determined to learn mana arts.”

“It’s not the main reason,” Akari said. “But yeah, the clock’s ticking.” She shifted her sleeve to reveal the mana watch on her left wrist.

40/40, it read.

She’d used the last of her liquid mana toward the end of Midwinter break. Between that and all the time she spent in school, her growth had plateaued. Before, she was gaining multiple points per week. Now, she was lucky to squeeze out one point every ten days.

What if she plateaued even more over the next two months? And what if the jump to Silver was bigger than it seemed? She needed another conflict to force her to grow faster.

Akari shrugged after a while. “That’s my problem, though. If I had a cushy life like yours, I might not risk it either.”

Kalden considered that for a moment. “So . . . what’s your plan?”

“Step one is learning mana arts to stay alive.”

“This might be a stupid question,” he began, “but is it really that dangerous out there?”

“For a sixteen-year-old girl to sleep outside? Hell yes.”

“But you’ve already learned some basic techniques,” he pointed out. “You’re probably stronger than most people on this island.”

“There’s always someone stronger out there. Doesn’t help when they move in groups.”

“Sure, but what are the odds of them attacking you unprovoked?”

Talek, he really didn’t get it, did he?

“Look,” Kalden said, “I’m not saying I’d want to be homeless. That’s a terrible thing to have looming over you, and I won’t lecture you on how to solve it. But I don’t want you to make reckless choices today because of what might happen tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Akari said. “I can meet Apprentice alone if you’re scared. I’ll even share the videos with you when I get back.”

Kalden grimaced. “But why? Why risk everything?”

“Did Darren and Maelyn tell you why I’m in foster care?”

Kalden hesitated. “I know your mom died in an accident a couple years back. And your dad’s out of the picture.”

Akari drew in a deep breath. She’d never actually put this story into words before. The school counselors had tried to make her talk, and she’d resisted on principle. When she finally realized she wanted to talk about it, it was too late. She’d chosen to break rather than bend.

“It happened under the A16 overpass,” she told Kalden. “Not far from downtown Elegan. My mom just lost her job the month before, and we got evicted from our apartment. Some guy snuck up on us while we were sleeping. I don’t know if he was trying to steal from us, or . . . something else. Doesn’t matter now.”

Her hands shook as she spoke, but it was nothing like the rush of adrenaline from before. This was an icy numbness that froze her in place.

“My mom fought back,” Akari said. “She stuck a knife in the guy’s shoulder. He was already screaming when I woke up.”

Akari wet her lips. She’d thought this would be easier, but she had to drag out each word as if they’d been buried in a vault. The memories weren’t really buried, of course. Parts of them came back whenever she saw ice mana or blue uniforms. Even the smell of it was enough to trigger flashes from that moment.

Still, each flash was like seeing it happen in her peripheral vision. How long had it been since she’d faced the entire memory head-on?

Her eyes burned, and she closed them. When she did, she saw her attacker crying in pain. Her mother’s blade stuck out from his right shoulder, and a red pool gathered around it. He tried attacking her mother again, but she pulled the blade free and stabbed him in the other shoulder.

“What happened next?” Kalden prodded gently.

“There was a payphone nearby, and my mom told me to call the police. They showed up before I could.”

Once again, Akari closed her eyes and saw the blur of sirens. To this day, the sight was enough to send shivers down her spine.

“They pulled up in the road next to us. No one said anything. They just hit my mom with ice Missiles. One wrapped around her neck, and she couldn’t breathe. I tried to help her, but they shot me, too.”

Akari had planned to say more, but tears threatened to burst from her eyes. She clenched her hand into a fist and cycled her mana. The burst of power made her feel stronger. More importantly, it let her focus on something else.

“So no,” she said after a long silence. “Elegan’s not a safe city. And maybe I will die in White Vale, but at least it was my choice.”

“Okay,” Kalden said with a slow nod. “I’ll go with you.”