It took fifteen minutes to get to my apartment. Once we got there, Ellen changed out of her battle gear, and so did I. She was in a workout top and shorts to manage the Phoenix heat—I wasn't wearing much more, myself. It was stupid to bundle up around here.

It did give me a good view of her injuries, though. The arrow wound on her chest had closed, and it was on its way to healing as quickly as a delver's fast-healing could heal it. She hadn't wanted to stop using her Stamina to kill the pain, but I'd convinced her eventually. She needed it for her merge.

"I'm ready for my merge, but my resources aren't," I said. "We're going to need to kill a little time."

Ellen looked like she wanted to argue. Then she stopped, mouth open, and nodded once. She flopped into her armchair and stared instead. After a minute, she grinned. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Uh…"

"Builds, obviously. I'm curious what you're doing with yours, and I bet you feel the same about mine."

"Uh, sure." Whatever Ellen had meant by that, sharing builds did make sense at this point. We were in it for the long haul, together, at this point. "I'm building toward a duelist spellblade. My skills were originally Grassi's Greater Swordplay, Flowing Stream Stance, Stormwing School, and whatever this familiar skill ends up being. My Unique skill was 'Extremely Hazardous,' so I merged it into something called Stormsteel Core. It's messing with all my other merges in beneficial ways. I'll be merging Flowing Stream Stance today. The basic idea is to be a competent to exceptional duelist with an ace in the hole in the form of magic."

"And your final two skills?" Ellen asked, scribbling on a sticky note. I grabbed it and the pencil and started writing as I talked.

"I'm not sure. My original build plan was to merge a movement skill, but if I'm going with the familiar instead, that's not an option. I might fill in with movement, but right now, I'm feeling pretty comfortable. If I can keep the Dash effect when I finish this merge today, I'll probably look at more damage or resource efficiency."

"Okay, got it," Ellen said.

"And you?" My build was outlined in rough shorthand; I passed the lime-green sticky note back to Ellen.

Instead of saying anything, she rummaged through her bag and produced a second sticky note; this one was a rich purple. She handed it to me, and I read it.

Shadow Box (Unique) - Big shadow squares

Infinite Well - 5 - Mana Sense, Energy Font, Skill Control, Spell Reserve, Aura Mastery

Calliope's Shadow Tome - 5 - Feedback, Grimoire of Shadows, Eyes in the Night, Edge of Darkness, Shadow Affinity

4-skill merge - 4 - I have no idea what to do here.

Familiar merge - 3 - Kade's plan has merit. Discuss?

She let me read, then said, "I'm merging Calliope's Shadow Tome today."

"And your A-rank merge?" I asked.

She shrugged. "That's new. I'm not sure what I need, though. Most mages don't need as many defensive skills, and I was planning on taking one of those in my final two. Either that or some mobility. I wish I could address my Mana more, but Infinite Well's the best Mana regeneration merge out there, and nothing else would make enough of a difference to be worth the effort."

"Okay. Let's work on that later. Subject change: Why not work with your dad? You could have it made, way better than with any guild."

"Don't you trust me?" she asked. Hurt filled her face—but it was a teasing, playful kind of hurt, the same way Jessie tried to guilt me.

"Yes, I trust you, but throwing away that kind of support's a big deal."

I said nothing, just locked eyes with Ellen, and after a few seconds, she shrugged. "Okay. I'm not just trying to ignore Bob. I'm trying to separate from him completely, even if that means not inheriting the Traynor Corporation or any inheritance. If I can become a successful delver, I can make my own way and not have him call on a debt a few years down the road."

"The cars? I asked.

"They're irrelevant. Bob makes enough money that something like that's a drop in the bucket. I'll owe him, but even by his calculations, they're not enough to keep me in the fold. But everything else? Especially cores and equipment for delving? That would be. I need to do it on my own, and I need help."

Ellen's face had darkened and filled with frustration and anger. It wasn't directed at me, but her aura was still flaring a little. She wasn't telling me everything, either. I didn't know whether she was lying, withholding something, or just didn't think it was important, but her story didn't add up.

And that was fine.

She didn't need to tell me everything. I hadn't spilled my guts to her about Jessie, or Dad. None of that had come up. None of it had to. I was glad Ellen was telling me what she felt comfortable saying. Besides, we were just killing time until we could merge our skills.

Seven Years Ago:

"Practice makes perfect," Roger said as he moved his knight to take his stepson's bishop. "Check."

Kade stared at the board for a few seconds, shaking his head. His fist was balled around a black pawn. "What?"

"Fork. Your rook's on E7, your king's on H8. I win your rook next turn because you didn't see it. You'll need to move your king to save it, and I'll put you right back into check when you do."

"But then I can take your knight," Kade said.

"You can, but it won't buy you anything. We're in the attrition phase of the game, where we're both trying to clear space, and I control more of it. I'll win within eight turns, and there's nothing you can do to stop me unless I blunder four times. Has that ever happened?"

Roger's stepson glared at him. His eleven-year-old fist squeezed the pawn in his hand hard enough that Roger was sure it would have broken had the boy been even a little stronger. Not for the first time, he thanked whoever was in charge that Kade was shaping up to be more like him—scrappy, lean, and fast, and less like the bruiser of a man his birth father had been.

For a moment, Roger glared back across the board. Then, he carefully began moving pieces, plucking the pawn back from his son's hand and placing it, not at its starting location, but on a much messier board-state—the same one that had existed ten turns ago. "We'll replay from here, and this time, when I take your queen in three turns, you won't let your anger get the best of you, understand? You'll take your time, breathe through it, and think about winning, not revenge."

Kade's glare stayed locked on Roger for another four seconds. Then it shifted from fury to determination. "What if I don't let you take my queen?"

Roger grinned. The boy was learning. "We'll see if you can stop me."

Present Day:

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An hour later—we'd both needed a nap to regain our Stamina and Mana—I stared at Dad's chessboard from my bed and blinked sleep from my eyes.

It was one of the few things I'd salvaged from the house's wreckage; I'd found almost all the pieces, with the exception of a single walnut knight. That hadn't been a surprise; it had gone missing years before Dad died. Before we'd even moved into that house. A bottle cap took the place of that knight for a while. It didn't matter what it looked like, according to Dad. The game played the same either way.

But I missed that knight almost as much as I missed him.

He'd beaten me mercilessly. Hours and hours of the game, even after I was so sick of it I couldn't imagine asking for another rematch. I couldn't remember winning even once.

But every single game, I'd learned something. Gotten closer. And I'd never actually lost, either. I couldn't remember being checkmated. Instead, he'd get to the point where I couldn't win, then reset the game to a point where I could.

And then he'd beat me. Again.

I sighed and pushed myself out of bed. Ellen was asleep on the couch, so I had a minute or two to prepare myself. Enough time for a quick snack and some water.

Five minutes later, I sat with Ellen on my bare living room floor, the furniture all pushed to the sides. She blinked back sleep as she prepared herself for her merge.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Oh. Yes."

"Great," I said. "Three. Two. One."

Our cores melted simultaneously, and I disappeared into the reverse-alchemical merging fugue. The moment I became aware, it was obvious that something was different, though.

Ellen's presence didn't make itself…present, though—at least, not at first. The melted verdigris core sat in the center of the room, waiting. But at the edges of my vison, the corners of the room slowly darkened until they were almost black, and under every piece of furniture pushed against the walls, I could sense shadow building.

I ignored it. Ellen would be interested to know I could feel her when we were done, but for now, I had work to do.

This time, I began with Dash, for the simple reason that I wanted to keep it in the altered, merged skill. Instead of a frame, like with Thunderbolt Forms, I wanted speed and evasion—speed for striking, evasion to keep me in the fight against tougher enemies. Dash manifested as a blur that traveled around the melted core, faster and faster until I could barely see it.

Then came Dodge. This was really the core skill of Flowing Stream Stance. The ability to not be where my opponent thought I'd be was powerful. It opened enemies to attacks, protected me from theirs, and preserved my Stamina for better uses. As I added Dodge, an orb the color of the sea appeared in front of the blur, and its orbit around the core's remnants began to wobble as the orb pulled left and right, slowed and sped up.

I tried not to pay too much attention to this part of the merging process. The real battle would come soon enough, once the Stormsteel Core began altering the merged skill. There was no chance I'd get Flowing Stream Stance from this—and I didn't want it. But I needed to build it regardless.

It was just busy work

Lightning Reflexes added even more movements to the orb's path around the melted core. This time, though, the orb didn't move at random. The wobbling became planned, precise. No more and no less than necessary to pull it away from danger. An ideal loop, interrupted as little as possible, but always just enough. The lesson was clear: react as little as I could. An attack that missed by an inch was the same as one that missed by a yard.

But I couldn't always avoid danger.

The shadows welled around me for a moment, throwing the entire process into darkness. Ellen had to be up to something weird. Then they retreated as I added Light Armor Mastery. The foil to Light Blade Mastery, it represented the duelist's ability to take an undodgeable hit. The seawater-green orb contracted as shining bands of mail wrapped around it, though its color quickly mixed with the silvery chains.

Then it cracked. It split nearly in two, and seawater rushed across the core. Part of me tensed, anxious, even though it had been my fault. I'd added Recovery to the mix.

I waited.

And waited.

The orb slowly reformed, now with a vicious black scar through the middle. It began wobbling around the melted core again, first agonizingly slowly, then faster and faster until it was all but the same speed it had been. As it reached its maximum speed, I watched it curve around invisible obstacles, dodge over and under barriers I couldn't see, and occasionally, shatter and reform.

The merging was nearly complete, and right on cue, a peal of thunder echoed out through the growing darkness all around me.

The Stormsteel Core awakens. Prepare yourself.

Instead of a fencing pitch like last time, I stood at one side of a wide open field of verdigris-colored metal. On the far side, the chain-mail and sea-green orb sat, unmoving. All around me, dark clouds threw the copper plate between us into shadow. Lightning arced across the sky, and rain poured down, slicking the surface into a bright sheen that reflected the electricity in the air even over the green patina.

For a few heartbeats, neither of us moved. I tried to summon the Stormsteel rapier, but nothing happened. It wasn't that I was cut off. It was that the Stormsteel Core refused to cooperate.

I took a step forward, and the orb rushed toward me like a charging bull.

As it did, the sea-green and chain mail morphed, falling away as it turned gunmetal gray. I threw myself to the side as the Stormsteel Core crashed into the place I'd just been standing. It turned, sending a spray of greenish metal up as it did, and rocketed back toward me. The premonition of danger hit this time, and I ducked. It bounced overhead. When it hit, the gong resounded loudly enough to drown out the thunder around me.

The game was obvious. I didn't need to beat the Stormsteel Core. I couldn't this time; I had no weapons. All I needed to do was survive.

I surged into a sprint, pouring on every ounce of my energy in an attempt to gain distance. Running felt…wrong. But it was my best answer to the Core's onslaught. If I wasn't where it aimed, I couldn't be hit. As I sprinted around the edge of the metal arena, rainwater splashed up behind me, only to be knocked from the air by the onrushing gray orb.

Danger from behind. I dodged left, then slowed. My feet slipped on the wet surface, and I reached down to steady myself. Legs churned. My palm ripped open on a shredded piece of green copper. I pushed Stamina toward the wound by reflex, and the blood slowly turned watery and clear as my skin began stitching itself back together.

I pushed off the other way just as the Stormsteel Core returned for another round.

This time, my danger sense flared early. I sidestepped, pulling my hip away and letting the orb almost graze me. My body spun from the wind of its passing, but I bounced on the balls of my feet and leaped to the side as it turned. Three quick moves later, I was still untouched.

The flow of movement started to make sense. It wasn't just a game. It was life and death, and I couldn't waste time on unnecessary movements. Faster and faster the core charged, and faster and faster, I dodged.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the Stormsteel Core stopped. It sat still, perfectly centered in the arena. I sucked in a deep breath of salty, wet air, and walked toward it.

When I touched it, it exploded into a deluge of rainwater that ran in all directions away from me, then poured from the platform's edges.

Skill Merged: Mistwalk Forms

The Stormsteel Core has altered this skill from Flowing Stream Stance.

The water is unconquerable. It can be channeled, but not contained forever—trapped, but not imprisoned. When granted the storm's fury, the stream becomes a raging flood, the afternoon rain a blinding downpour, and the cloud a thick fog to disappear into. Using these defensive-minded forms to avoid damage builds Rainfall Charges.

Stormsteel Effects: 1. Flashstep: Consume Lightning Charges to instantly reposition when attacked. 2. Gustrunner: Consume Wind Charges to temporarily increase movement speed. 3. Cloudwalk: Consume Rainfall Charges to temporarily reduce incoming damage.

Upgrade Effects: 1. Each rank increases your ability to react to danger. 2. Each rank increases the damage reduction of light armor. 3. Each rank increases the speed at which you heal. 4. Each rank increases your Stamina pool.

I emerged from the merging trance still breathing deeply. Ellen's shoulder blades pressed into mine; she was also breathing, but her breaths came quickly and shallowly. I couldn't move—any disruption could wreck her merging process—so I sat there, breathed, and waited.

The wait wasn't long. Ellen shivered. Then she shook. Then, she collapsed onto my tile floor, breathing hard. I stood and turned at the same time. She was pale, and her eyes were squeezed shut.

"Did you get it?" I asked.

She cracked her eyes open, then glared at me. "Holy shit, Kade, what was that?"

"What was what? And did you finish your merge?"

"Yes," she said. She curled into a ball on the floor, still glaring. "I had to merge my skills in the middle of a freaking thunderstorm! It was almost impossible. I'm tapped out—what did you do?"

I laughed, stress melting from my shoulders. I'd been worried something had gone wrong. "I think maybe delvers weren't meant to merge skills so close to each other, at least not at the same time. We must have overlapped our…presences…or something. I'm not sure how to describe it, but yours was like a deepening of the shadows all around me while I worked. I think if we do it again, we should be way better prepared, though."

"No kidding," Ellen said, shutting her eyes. "I've got a monster migraine. How much time before Jessie gets home?"

I checked the clock. "An hour and change. She's got therapy tonight, and she buses home afterward."

"Great." Ellen didn't sound great. "I'll be out of your hair, then. Tomorrow, at the Peoria GC center, I'll help you learn true magic."

"That'd be perfect. I need to make sure Jessie gets to work in the morning, so I'll see you there sometime after eight. It's her first day as a GC rep. She's supposed to be shadowing a veteran around the training center," I said. Ellen nodded and started wobbling toward the door, and I shook my head. "You look exhausted. You can borrow my bed for a nap."

"Thanks," Ellen said, and she disappeared into my bedroom. I sighed and started working on dinner; Jessie was always hungry after therapy, and I had a feeling Ellen was sticking around for that, too.

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