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He swung a fist, catching me in the ribs, driving me back, but I dodged his other hand as he tossed a splicing rune at me. Meant to cut me in half.

“No deadly runes!” Typhon bellowed from somewhere over by my friends. I couldn’t look, but I could sense him near them. Helping them.

“Ooops,” Mort laughed. “Forgot.” He spat to the side, blood gobbing at his feet. “You think you can take top spot? You gotta come through me first.”

I smiled and circled him. “I’ll go through all of you to take that spot.”

He arched a brow. “All of us? You can’t beat eight in a row. Eight that are all ready to graduate?”

“You don’t have a healer, do you?” I asked.

“Hasn’t been one of those born in forty years. But I won’t need one.” Mort threw a rune and followed it with a fist. Again, I ducked and dodged, keeping him moving, I needed him to line up perfectly.

I needed to set the bait so he took it, and I could sink their entire ship.

I drove in close, fists driving toward his face, ribs and upper thigh, making him dance like the monkey he was.

He sidestepped so that he was directly in front of the remainder of those I’d face. All seven were bunched together, hanging onto each other, cheering him on.

Julius was in that bunch.

I brought my hands up and spun the rune fast, but not as fast I could have. Mortan saw me and dove to the side as I released the rune that soared out of the ring, and right into the remainder of their teammates.

The sound of bones snapping filled the air, the students screamed as they went down all at once and I turned to face Mort.

“Ooops. Missed.” Maybe another day I would have felt bad.

I might have felt guilty if they’d been younger.

But these were the oldest ones – eighteen and nineteen years old, in their last years at Neverthorn.

The ones who damn well knew right from wrong.

And they’d cheered as my friends were hit by a rune bomb.

His face purpled with rage, and he rushed me, the splicing rune on his fingertips again.

There was no more pulling punches, no more being careful.

We clashed, fighting for blood. Runes, fists and feet, I danced around him as if I hadn’t been giving my energy over to the others.

As if this was indeed a fight to the death.

Mort stumbled and I didn’t hesitate, I went straight for his head, snapping a rune of sleep into his face.

He went straight down, face into the sand.

“House Phoenix, you have won,” the commentator said, and even gave us a slow clap by the sounds of it. “But that is no surprise.”

My house, though, they were hurt.

I didn’t care that we’d won. I could feel the injuries of my friends. Ellie was pulling them together, but gods, they were hurt. I ran off the mats and went to help Ellie. I used the rune to draw energy from me, and I gave it to her.

“They will be okay,” Ellie said. “No one is injured too badly.”

“Well done!” Tarquinius said, as he approached us, with a half glance over his shoulder. Looking toward the upper levels. “Very good.”

The commentator spoke again, his voice deepening with each word, booming all around us. As if he’d been hiding his true voice before – of course he had. Tarquinius would have recognized him – he’d been his star pupil all those years ago.

“They are not yours to congratulate, Sage. You did not test them. You did not train them. You used them, didn’t you? True to form, as always.”

“No.” Tarquinius paled, slowly turning. “No, it cannot be.”

That voice …a chill cut me to the core.

He spoke and my memories took me back to the one day I’d met him as a child.

“You thought you were so clever. Don’t you see? No matter how many soldiers. No matter who you think to train. I will never stop coming for you.”

I turned to see the clouds darken and familiar figures seemingly dropping from the sky. Creatures of someone’s twisted mind, bodies that had been pulled apart and then put back together with bits and pieces of animals.

Lion heads.

Bear claws.

Snake mouths.

I was sure I’d seen one of them in particular at the Nevershoppes all those months ago. I thought he’d been killed.

The voice sounded familiar, because I had a memory of it, from when I’d been a little girl hiding in the closet. I put my hand out to my team.

“Get behind me!”

Nocta’s men leapt from behind the Runecoats, taking them out with a speed that seemed impossible.

Screams rent the air.

And then he stepped out from the upper part of the arena, from the announcer’s area. He was as I remembered him as he cast a rune effortlessly and floated himself to the floor of the Coliseum.

His voice was magnified, shaking the air and sending students scattering.

“Run and hide, children. I am the lord of the night. And I have come to free you from this life.”

The sky went from a stormy day to a pitch-black night in a split second. More of the franken-creatures erupted around us from the ground as if they’d lain in wait under the loose sand.

The world seemed to pause in that moment, the air stilling, even the breath in our lungs unmoving. The Runecoats were fighting back now, slowing the onslaught of Nocta’s men.

He continued to float down toward the ground.

“Heronius, even with his team and his amazing Quirk, wasn’t enough. You think any of these children have what it takes to face me?”

Nocta continued, his voice smooth, and seemingly calm despite the words. “Tarquinius, you bested me once. You didn’t truly think I’d let you do it again?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Tarquinius, Typhon and Nikita face Nocta together.

My heart clenched, thinking about what Nocta could do to Typhon. No ... I had to trust that he’d be okay. That he was strong enough.

House of Phoenix was fighting injured, but they joined the fray and began fighting off Nocta’s men as they launched into an attack. Stepping up next to the Runecoats left, giving the younger kids a chance to flee.

A high-pitched scream spun me around.

“Harlow!”

Opie dangled from the edge of the stands. Her friends were trying to pull her back up over the railing, but one of Nocta’s men was below, and had grabbed her ankle. His mouth was open wide, sharp teeth gnashing as he yanked on her, dragging her from the safety of her friends.

“No!” I ran, bolting around the bodies that were everywhere, flinging runes where I could but focused on my sister.

Opie lay crumpled on the dirt with her attacker hulking over her, hand lifted. Krishna leapt over the edge and used a rune to send a franken-critter skittering back several feet. Anger flashed across her features.

“Get away from my friend!” she screamed, her hands spinning another rune.

I wouldn’t reach Opie fast enough; I was too far away to stop what was happening. The monster lifted two swords over his head, as if he’d take Krishna’s head off. I flung a rune in desperation, shrinking the blades with my nicking notions.

If it meant saving the girls, I’d destroy the very weave itself.

The shorthand rune hit the blades as they swept toward Krishna, turning them into weapons the size of pens.

The beast – part gorilla, part goat – spun toward me and lowered his head. There was a flash of blue eyes, and then he was charging me.

I leapt sideways, pushing off the side of the Coliseum as I rolled over the creature’s back and onto the other side, so I was between him and the girls. Three more creatures stepped up.

A whip lashed out around me, binding my hands to my sides.

I tried to form a rune to free myself, but in the panic and exhaustion of the past three days, it was a mix of gobbledygook in my head.

“Run! Opie, you gotta run!”

Two Runecoats appeared, they took out two of the three creatures. But the gorilla-goat hybrid was enraged. He charged the Runecoats, slamming into them and then flinging them over his head.

One of the Runecoats pulled a weapon. A broadsword that glowed as if it had flames inside of it.

He swept his sword toward the gorilla-goat, who ducked out of the way.

I screamed in horror as I realized Krishna and Opie were behind him, directly in the path of the blade as it swung fast and hard.

They clung to each other, and all I could do was try to throw myself in front of them.

I breathed out. Felt the tip of the sword start its path through the meat of my upper arm, headed toward my neck.

The world seemed to stop – no, it had stopped. I was frozen in mid jump – the blade no longer moving.

Darkness suffused the space around us – sudden and absolute.

From the darkness, Nocta appeared in front of me, his hand held out toward the Runecoat.

A flick of his wrist using a rune I didn’t know – but I could see it was shorthand, like the ones I used to craft – and he snapped the Runecoat’s neck.

The whip unraveled from around me and I dropped to my feet, standing there in the darkness, staring at my father. There was no noise, no sound of a battle, it was as if we were in a vacuum.

He turned slowly to face me. “Things are not as they seem, Harlow.”

His voice was . . . sad?

“There are some you trust who do not deserve it. Their lies are poison. You must flee.”

Flee.

I should have been fighting him, I should have been throwing rune after rune, but all I could do was stare at the man that was my father.

“Forgive me if I opt not to take the word of a monster. No matter who he is.”

“Monster?” His smile was as sad as his voice. “Even now, I’m only here as a distraction so my soldiers can free those in chains. And to see you one last time.”

I blinked up at him, not understanding. “What does that even mean? Who is chained? Where are they chained?” My thoughts rapid-fired, for some reason, to Lucy. She’d been so afraid to be captured again ... was she one of his people after all?

He dipped his head in my direction and took a step back.

“I will take my men and leave. You are strong. And brave. Everything I could want for you to have grown into. It is a boon that the Horned King has given me, to see you fight for those you love. Perhaps one day, you will fight for me.”

“Never,” I growled the word and once more he dipped his head in my direction.

“We shall see, daughter of mine.”

A flash of light blinded me, and the darkness fled as fast as it had descended.

I looked all around the stadium.

Nocta was gone. The franken-creatures were gone. The Runecoats were flattened.

The light around us had shifted to something close to normal. Not cloudy. Not stormy.

I turned and something slammed into me. At first, I thought it was a punch. Until the blinding agony roared through me.

Knife.

Blinking, I looked up as Mort grinned down at me. Looked like Julius wasn’t bluffing. Mort was more than just a dangerous Draconell, he was a psychopath.

He yanked the knife out and moved to slam it in again when a rune hit him from the back, crumpling him, his eyes rolling back in his head.

I put my hands to my middle and stared down at the blood flowing from me. Two wounds. Too much blood. This was bad. I looked up as Typhon ran toward me, as Opie screamed my name and the last thing I thought as I fell to the ground was ... at least we won the match.

Even if it had killed me.