Kalden clutched his armrests as they soared over the courtyard. Hundreds of Missiles erupted from below, streaking the sky like a reverse meteor shower.

Elend’s shield repelled them all. The helicopter dove toward the grass, weaving between the larger techniques. Meanwhile, Akari kept up a constant barrage from her machine gun, sending the ground troops scrambling for cover.

There must have been hundreds of them down there. And they all believed they fought for the right reasons. It almost made Kalden doubt himself; how could so many people be so wrong?

The helicopter picked up speed, and he relaxed as they put the bulk of the army behind them. At first, he’d imagined this playing out like an action movie with Elend fumbling his way through the controls, escaping the enemy with sheer luck. But the Grandmaster was clearly a competent pilot, thank the Angels.

Another minute passed, then they reached the safety of the forest. By now, the sounds of battle had faded to a distant echo. Elend flew them low above the trees, probably to avoid being spotted from across the island.

Speaking of which . . .

“Can you make us invisible?” Kalden asked over the headset. Normally, that would be impossible, even for a shadow artist. But the Grandmaster had just made two helicopters from scratch.

“Any other day.” Elend waved his right hand, gesturing to the black cuff on his wrist.

Kalden closed his mouth. Apparently, it took more mana to hide an existing object than to make a new one. He still didn’t know any of the rules regarding dream mana.

Elend lowered his hand, then clutched at his chest. His breaths came out ragged, and his lips pulled back in a grimace.

He’s not invincible, Kalden realized. He’d pushed through the pain so far, but he couldn’t keep that up forever.

“Now talk to me, lad. What’s our heading?”

“West. Um . . . 270 degrees.” Kalden sat up in his seat, surveying the landscape below. Mt. Khasa was a cluster of lights to the north. He couldn’t make out the highway beyond the trees, but he knew it passed directly through the city.

“There’s a stretch of road at two o’clock,” he continued. “That will take us straight to Keylas.”

The Grandmaster turned their nose several degrees to the south. “They’ll be watching that road. Also a good place for a trap.”

True enough. Despite his power, Elend had shown far more restraint than Relia so far. Too bad he wasn’t a better influence on her. Then again, that trap in the prison wasn’t completely Relia’s fault. She’d admitted to being a bad tactician. She’d been relying on the others, but no one else had spoken up. Frostblade had lured them all into a false sense of security, and they’d all paid the price.

“You mentioned a boat,” Elend said. “Where is it?”

Kalden reached into his bag and pulled out the map. “Our friends have a campsite south of the city.”

“Aye, but we should assume they’ve been compromised.”

Kalden was about to retort, but he held his tongue. The water artists had taken the boat more than a week ago to avoid suspicion, but someone might have noticed it on the road. The Martials might not have acted right away, but that proved nothing. They could have been waiting for the right moment, and the right moment was about an hour ago.

“We can still cross the sea without water artists,” Elend said, “but we’ll need that boat.”

“Maintain heading 270,” Kalden said. “I’ll find the lake once we’re closer.”

They rode in silence for the rest of the journey, following the forests north of the Contested Area. If they’d taken a car like they’d planned, this trip would have taken the better part of two hours. Probably even longer if the Martials put up a fight.

With the helicopter, it barely took them half an hour to reach Arkala’s western coast.

“That’s it,” Kalden said as he compared their current coordinates to his map. The lake was bigger than he’d expected—well over eight hundred acres, with a cluster of islands around the southern quarter.

Sirens flashed on the northern side, and more than a dozen Martial vans clustered around the shore.

Kalden swallowed as the helicopter sank toward the water’s surface. Elend had been right; their friends were either captured or dead. Probably the latter, considering how much they knew about Relia. The Martials clearly weren’t interested in her story, and every survivor was a loose end.

But where was the boat? He strained his eyes, but he couldn’t make out much in the haze of blue and red. Presumedly, the water artists had hidden it somewhere on the lake, but—

“There!” Elend said. “On our ten.”

Kalden shifted his eyes to the water below. At first, he saw nothing but dark ripples reflecting the moons. But then Elend activated their floodlights, revealing a white motorboat nestled between them. It was barely fifty feet long, hardly his idea of a seaworthy vessel.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Then again, maybe size didn’t matter when the tides rivaled skyscrapers.

They had a bigger problem, though. How would they get this boat to the sea? They’d need the trailer to transport it. And if the Martials were smart, they’d already taken that trailer far from here.

“Bringing us down,” Elend said as he hovered over the boat. “There’s a gravity generator in the back. Should be some cables, too. I’ll need you and Akari to hook things up.”

“Wait . . .” It took Kalden a moment to process the words. “You want to carry the boat to Keylas? That must weigh ten thousand pounds.”

“I’d guess sixteen,” Elend replied. “Reduce the gravity by ninety-five percent, and be quick about it. Won’t take the Martials long to investigate.”

Kalden climbed into the back cabin. Relia was still strapped to the bench opposite the cockpit, and her chest rose and fell with steady breaths.

Akari uncoiled herself from the gunner’s seat, holding on to the nearby handrail for support. She’d been wearing a hoodie and jeans when they first took off. Now, she wore a form-fitting black bodysuit.

Kalden raised an eyebrow. “Is that shadow armor?”

“Found it back in the prison,” she said as they gathered the cables. He also noticed a ten-inch blade strapped to her right leg and a Martial handgun in the small of her back.

He understood the weapons, but why bother with the armor? The protection wasn’t any better than her hoodie, and only a shadow artist could activate the sigils. Jared and Viv had confirmed that.

He’d have to ask her about it later. Assuming they all survived the next hour.

They lowered Relia’s unconscious body into the boat, then they ran the cables from the hull to the base of the helicopter. Elend explained the rest of his plan as they worked. It was completely insane—far more so than anything else they’d done tonight.

“Why go through Keylas?” Akari asked. “Can’t we just fly over the mana wall?”

“Wouldn’t count on it, lass. There’s more than one shield around this island. Trust me—Keylas is the only way in or out.”

Well, that was ominous. Still, it fit with Relia’s earlier descriptions.

With everything else secure, Kalden lowered the gravity generator into the boat. This was a clunky metal device, about as big as an air conditioner. He adjusted the dial, then tied it down between two passenger seats.

“Hang on down there!” Elend shouted, projecting his voice over the wind and the rotors. “Things are gonna get rough.”

Bursts of night air struck his face as they flew over the water’s surface, and Kalden ducked behind the boat’s windshield. “Don’t look down,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t look down.”

The view had seemed like an abstract curiosity from inside the helicopter—no different from looking out a regular window. Here, he was just inches from falling over the edge. His knuckles went white as he gripped the handlebar, and his muscles went limp with vertigo.

Elend flew them through a corridor of thick trees. From there, it didn’t take long to spot the northern mana wall. Its pale blue light illuminated the landscape for miles, and it seemed to grow taller as they approached. Keylas appeared as a haze of light at its base. The city was far larger than he’d expected—more of a military operation than a simple outpost. Chain-link fences surrounded the base on three sides with twisted razor wire along the tops. Two dozen brick buildings filled the interior, along with landing pads, garages, and control towers.

They inched closer with every second, and Kalden’s body tensed with anticipation.

And here comes the crazy part.

The helicopter jerked toward the sky, then Elend slid down the middle cable, leaving the vehicle empty.

“Down!” he shouted.

Kalden and Akari ducked their heads, and the Grandmaster severed the cables with blades of pure mana. The helicopter continued its upward path, and the boat flew straight ahead.

Somehow, Elend kept his balance as he formed a full sphere of mana around them. Hundreds of attacks broke against the shield as they fell. The explosions were brighter than the sun and louder than any storm.

Kalden’s hand found the dial on the generator, waiting for his next orders.

“Keep us at ninety-five,” Elend said through gritted teeth. His eyes must have seen through the chaos because he kept them on course with bursts of power from his outstretched hands.

Kalden glanced ahead, but he saw nothing but mana and explosions—the shield, the outer wall, and the Martials’ attacks. It came in every color imaginable, from deep orange fire to pale blue ice. He knew he’d hurt his eyes if he looked, but a part of him couldn’t resist. Ordinary mana was mesmerizing enough, and this was like nothing he’d ever seen before.

“Alright, lad. Seventy-five!”

Kalden adjusted the dial, and the boat plummeted to the ground. Elend layered more shields around them like a giant onion. The outer layers became blades, attacking their surroundings as they flew. Kalden couldn’t say what they hit. He could barely tell up from down at this point.

The outer blades spun on their own, and Elend gathered two giant Missiles in his palms.

Kalden craned his neck to look ahead. Barely ten seconds had passed, but they’d already reached the outer wall.

Elend thrust both arms forward, releasing his Missiles like a battering ram. The gate shattered, and a pair of steel pillars collapsed in their path. Elend’s sphere knocked them aside like a drake charging through a forest.

Everything went dark as they passed beyond the wall. The Martials ceased their attacks, and Elend dropped the sphere, collapsing to his knees on the boat’s wooden deck. He righted himself just before they hit the ground. Another burst of mana sent them over a ridge, and Kalden saw the sea ahead.

Almost free.

“Ninety-five,” Elend said to Kalden. His voice sounded breathless, and he clutched at his chest.

Kalden let go of the handrail and reached for the generator’s dial.

Mana flashed at the edge of his vision, and something sharp struck his shoulder. His body went limp and frozen. At the same time, the boat crashed into another ridge.

Elend launched a Missile into the ground, tilting the boat on its side. Kalden reached for the handrail with his good arm . . .

Too late. The impact flung him over the edge, and his vision spun in a blur of trees and sky.

He hit the ground on his stomach. More attacks streaked his vision, cracking the nearby trees.

Kalden took several deep breaths, surveying the damage to his body. Hot waves of pain raced out from his shoulder, his ears rang, and his chest hurt when he tried to breathe.

Shouts echoed in the distance as the Martials closed in.

He forced himself to his feet, staggering over the ridge. From there, he had a full view of the Inner Sea. The boat landed with a splash, some twenty yards from shore. Kalden staggered down the hill, but another Missile struck his right leg. His knees buckled, and he hit the ground again.

The boat’s motor spun in the water, sending up clouds of white foam. Kalden’s heart thundered in his ears, and he dared to hope they’d come back for him. Elend had faced hundreds of Martials back in the prison. What were a few more compared to that?

Instead, the boat vanished into the darkness, leaving him behind.