It happened before we even got to the Ghostmarket.

  The Crone’s massively powerful aura ripped across the forest. Trees seemed to shake, then stop moving altogether in spite of the breeze as she unleashed her strength. I stopped mid-step, unable to move. Even the God of Thunder couldn’t push forward.

  Her power was similar to Mind Maiden Enolda’s but subtly different. Enolda denied options. The Crone seemed to deny the possibility of resistance. And yet, even as her aura crashed down around us, the God of Thunder stared at me. “You’ll have to keep going. If that old hag’s fighting, something’s gone bad in the Ghostmarket, kid.”

  “How?” I asked. Eugene’s confirmation of my fears dug a pit in my stomach. Ellen and Jessie were there. Ellen could—

  A second aura erupted outward toward us. It was nowhere near as strong as the Crone’s, and it felt less like the removal of possibility and more like an icy cold wind in the air. Then a third, as Eugene unleashed his crackling lightning-storm and pushed against both. “Go, Kade Noelstra. I can’t do anything in the Ghostmarket by ancient, binding agreement. It’s up to you.”

  The lightning ripped into my muscles, and through the sheer agony, I moved. The God of Thunder’s aura fought against the two from the Ghostmarket, and at the same time, it gave me the power to move forward. I didn’t waste any time; my feet pounded against the dirt as I pushed myself to the limits of my B-Rank speed. Stormsong crackled in my grip. I sprinted out of the woods and into chaos.

  Monsters. Hundreds of them, all seemingly frozen in place—and all panicking. A glowing white crystal slowly drained to gray as its energy flowed through the air and into the Crone. The old woman stood vertically, her walking cane abandoned somewhere in the madness. She’d grown, too; even the Feldspar Titan in the distance looked small compared to her. Magic poured from her hands—reality-warping purples and jagged reds that mixed painfully, looking like electronic glitches as the world broke down around them.

  Against her, a second monster rose in challenge.

  Kantaal, Citadel Meister: ?-Rank Paragon

  Kantaal was small by comparison. He glowed purple, much like Mardou, the boss I’d fought in the first Dark Citadel world. But unlike the D-Rank boss’s ethereal robes, his were highlighted in an almost liquid silver; it seemed to flow like water across the seams and shimmered in the crystal’s fading moonlight. And he wasn’t slacking, either. His own magic lashed out as dozens of Scripts and Bindings tore free from the books floating around him and icy cold energy surged from his staff.

  The fight in front of me was so far beyond my limits that I couldn’t even understand the magic, much less the speed it was being cast at. But there were other, lesser monsters still active; Dark Citadel knights roamed the streets, and Mind Maiden Enolda whipped through the tents, hunting them.

  I couldn’t see Jessie anywhere. Panic filled my gut and threatened to erupt. The God of Thunder’s aura faltered slightly, and I locked up, tripping into the dirt. When I pushed myself upright, the fear had only grown. My sister—unawakened, hurting, and terrified—was somewhere in the chaos.

  As I entered the Ghostmarket, Eugene’s aura collapsed completely. “Kantaal, surrender, and I won’t destroy your world. Only you,” the Crone said, voice surprisingly calm as her magic lashed out over and over.

  The Citadel Meister shook his head and dropped another dozen Scripts and Bindings. They exploded into light; crystalline shields and daggers of darkness filled the air around him. Then the two juggernauts slammed spells into each other, and both of their auras contracted as they focused on their enemies to the exclusion of everything else.

  My fear increased like a wall of panic.

  Like an aura.

  Like Ellen’s aura.

  I took a deep breath, trying to push that fear down as best I could. It didn’t help much, but it was enough to put one foot in front of the other and dive into the Ghostmarket’s chaos. I had to find her. I had to find them both.

  And then we had to get out of here, whatever it took.

  Dark Citadel Huntmaster: A-Rank

  Jessie screamed. Ellen didn’t have time to turn and check on her; the black leather and even blacker steel armor she was fighting was every bit her match, and then some. An arrow whipped across the room fast enough to create a tiny sonic boom and crashed through the still-warm magma covering the tent. She threw herself to the side, but a second arrow punched into her chest. She coughed blood and threw another Darkness. “Jessie, leave!” she screamed.

  But there wasn’t anywhere to go.

  She’d found Jessie less than a minute ago, trying to get her chair moving in the mud around the Lithic world’s tent. They’d taken shelter inside, but whatever was going on, the Crone had either underestimated her opponent or simply didn’t care about the state of the Ghostmarket after they fought. There were Dark Citadel enemies everywhere, and—

  A third arrow caught her, this time in the stomach. She doubled over. Agony poured through her body as she tried to force her Stamina to dull the pain. It didn’t work; there was too much of it, and it hurt too much.

  Her aura flared. It helped; the Huntmaster faltered for a moment, and the next arrow missed. She cast Shadow Shapes. The spell had worked against the B-Rank armor that had accompanied the Huntmaster, but the archer was just too fast. She couldn’t compete. Ellen was going to die, and she couldn’t stop it.

  Jessie yelled something from behind her. Ellen pushed herself to her feet and used Shadow Box. Dark squares rippled out across the Huntmaster, but it kept coming, drawing its bow and whipping two more arrows across the tent even as it threw itself to the side.

  She had to buy time for Kade’s sister. For the Crone. Maybe even for Enolda. Someone would come. Someone had to come. Ellen’s body hurt. She coughed pink and dropped to a knee. The Huntmaster drew his bow and stared down it.

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  Then a blade made of lightning erupted from his throat. It stayed there as electricity built in the tent, and six massive, green-black bolts ripped into the Huntmaster’s body.

  It didn’t die, though.

  Kade wasn’t done with it yet.

  The Huntmaster didn’t die quickly.

  A small part of me didn’t mind. This was like fighting the bullies on the playground; I’d learned early on that squaring up against them was a good way to get hurt, but an ambush could even the odds or tip them in my favor. Now that I had control of the fight, that small part wanted the monster hanging on my sword to suffer.

  But the rest of me was furious that it wouldn’t die.

  The armor in front of me wasn’t real. It was little more than a summon or construct, under the control of the impossibly-strong monster fighting the Crone. I wasn’t getting anything from my vengeance against it. This wasn’t justice or retribution. It was just business.

  And Ellen and Jessie were both covered in blood.

  My sister was still in her chair; her face and chest were splattered with the stuff, and her eyes were wide and panic-filled. Her mouth kept opening and closing like she was a fish trying to breathe air, but I gave her a quick once-over, and it looked like she wasn’t hurt.

  Ellen, though…

  Ellen was in trouble. Those arrows were serious problems. She needed a healer—bad.

  I grabbed the monster, threw myself toward the door, and dropped my exclusion on Ellen. She was closer, and I couldn’t risk hurting her any worse than she already was. Then I threw a Lightning Chain out the door. It attached to something, and I pulled.

  The wounded Huntmaster and I rocketed out into the dirt. The moment I hit the ground, I pushed myself away from the leather-and-plate suit of armor and used Stormbreak.

  Mind Maiden Enolda’s magic pushed outward in a suppressive wave. I gritted my teeth and put all my will behind my skill; I wouldn’t let this monster escape. I couldn’t. Ellen’s life was on the line, and so was Jessie’s. I could only hope that my partner could get her Stamina under control and stay awake.

  Negative space.

  Positive spaces.

  Dozens of them, all around. The static built all around the Huntmaster and me as Stormbreak built in the air. Mind Maiden Enolda turned the corner, hand raised. I focused on that hand and on the denial the puppet put behind it. My will fought with hers. I felt myself losing, but I hung on as long as I could. I didn’t have to win. I just had to lose slowly enough to—

  Lightning. Thunder. Pain. Wave after wave. It rippled across an eighth of the Ghostmarket. Electrical flowers blossomed in every direction, and arcs of blue-white power touched every monster near me.

  Everything went black, and all I could hear was the sound of Jessie saying something—but I couldn’t make out the words.

  When I woke up, Jessie wasn’t in her chair.

  I was on the stone tent’s floor, and lightning was still arcing through my veins, but one quick check of my Mana, and it was obvious that I’d avoided Mana Burn. I pushed myself to a sitting position and looked around.

  Jessie was hunched over something. I crawled over to her. “What happened?”

  “I think we won,” Jessie said quietly. Her hands shook; they were pressed against Ellen’s chest, and blood covered them. “She’s alive, and—“

  “Jessie, I’m…I’m awake,” Ellen mumbled. “Running low on Stamina, though. If you can’t do anything, I won’t be for long.”

  Jessie’s hands kept shaking against Ellen’s wound—and the arrow in the middle of it—and I slowly moved them down to the shadow mage’s stomach. “Cover these. I’ll work on the lung shot.”

  Then I dove in. Everything in my first-aid lessons said that removing the arrow was the worst possible thing I could do, but I had an idea, and to make it happen, the portal metal arrowhead needed to be gone. I slowly put pressure on the wound, and Ellen gasped in pain. Then she screamed. I let up, and her hand darted up to mine and shoved it back down. “Sorry. Stam…Stamina control slipped.”

  “Right. This isn’t going to hurt any less. Let’s try distracting you,” I said. “Jessie, what happened with the Crone?”

  “She and I came to an agreement.”

  A chill washed over me, much like Kantaals’ icy aura had, but worse. I turned to look at my sister, eyes narrowing. “What kind of agreement?”

  “Nothing. I promised nothing, and I gave away nothing. We just talked for a while, and the Crone and I…” Jessie trailed off, wincing.

  “You what?”

  “We came to a mutual understanding. She and I view the universe in similar ways, and she’s willing to keep talking to me—and to let us keep the core that opens a portal to the Ghostmarket. She’s also interested in Earth opening a shop in her market, but I didn’t agree to—“

  Stormsong flashed, and I cut the arrow off four inches from Ellen’s robes. Then I carefully cut a slit in the cloth and worked my hands up against the wound, ignoring her wide eyes and slightly shaking head.

  I pulled.

  She screamed.

  The arrow came loose, and I tried to pull Mana from my core to cauterize the wound as blood splashed against my face.

  Instead, the God of Thunder’s voice echoed in the empty tent. “You want her to live? Let’s get out of here.”

  Then the lightning dragon, in his knight form, opened a portal, picked up Ellen as anger flooded me, and stepped through it, leaving Jessie and me to follow.

  The God of Thunder was pleased.

  As the fighting died down and the Crone shrank to a reasonable size to stand over her dead opponent’s body and gloat, he entered the ruins of the Ghostmarket. The fighting was over, and his restriction on being in the Crone’s presence during combat had ended. Kade was still alive, and so was his Dual Skill Progression partner. Even better, his sister had both survived and, unwittingly, struck a blow against the Crone that she wouldn’t recover from in a while.

  And best of all, the Crone couldn’t pin any of it on him. All he’d done was what any good Paragon would do: teach his pupil to overcome his hang-ups, then unleash him on the Crone’s enemies. He was blameless and victorious at the same time.

  He walked through the carnage quickly, ignoring the dying vendors, shattered puppets and armor, and moonlight crystal that was slowly returning from gray to white in the center of the battlefield. The central circle of the Ghostmarket had gotten the worst of it; the Crone and Kantaal had fought there, and Kantaal had been destructive even in death.

  Eugene slipped around the corner before the Crone could find him, ducked into the wreckage of the Dark Citadel’s shop, and quickly rummaged through their half-destroyed books. He found what he wanted, tucked it into his armor, and stepped out.

  It was evidence—evidence of interference on Earth by a Paragon much stronger than Kantaal. It’d take Eugene time to pore through the coded language and figure out who, exactly, it was, but once he knew, then he could do something about it. He was, after all, an SS-Plus-Ranked Paragon, and while Kantaal had been SS-Ranked, the Meister of the Dark Citadel wasn’t anywhere near strong enough to make the moves he’d seen on Earth.

  No, the dead Paragon was innocent of that, and the Crone had already punished him for his transgressions against her market.

  It wasn’t just about Earth for Eugene, though. It was about the Crone herself. She was feasting on Kantaal’s core even as he hurried toward the stone tent Kade was inside of, and she’d only grow in power from her battle. Denying her even more power in the form of whichever Paragon had decided to play on Earth was just as important as protecting his stake in the world.

  He stepped through the door and stopped for a moment. Kade was up and on his knees, even though sparks were still rippling through him. Eugene watched as he cut the shadow mage’s robe open and carefully pulled an arrow free from her chest. She screamed and coughed blood onto Kade’s face. The kid poured Mana into his hand, but the spell fizzled as Eugene cleared his throat. “You want her to live? Let’s get out of here.”

  Then he opened a portal—a brilliant, golden portal—and picked up the woman’s body. He stepped through into a world where he shouldn’t be.

  The Earth shuddered.

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