Breathe.

My heartbeat maintained an accelerated staccato rhythm. The world had been reduced to just my immediate senses: the polished contrast of the bar against my callused hands; the way the air caressed my skin as I propelled my body over the bar in tight rotations and how my muscles strained as I fought to keep the momentum forceful; the roar of air against my ears competing against the music blaring in the background; the blurs of my elegant surroundings and those standing awestruck down below in stark contrast with the vivid details of my hands making the swift transitions on the trapeze bar; and the taste of my sweat. My focus was restricted to achieving perfection, and after the fifth spin, I forced my body into an immediate halt. My arms shook with exertion as I held the headstand on the trapeze bar.

I inhaled and exhaled again before allowing my arms to collapse. I gave gravity a little control and fell enough to hang upside down on the bar. I shifted my body get the trapeze to swing. When I had enough momentum, I straightened my legs and propelled myself through the air.

I was soaring.

There was a thrill in defying physics and pretending I could fly.

I had defied it enough times to feel confident in performing several somersaults through the air. After the third, I straightened my body, arched my spine, threw my arms out so that they were perpendicular to my core, and pointed my toes. At the last minute, when I could feel gravity commandeering my delusions, I grabbed for the strand of silk hanging from the high ceiling. My soaring came to an abrupt, jolting halt. The anchors held the silk stable. The violins in my performance music erupted into another fierce staccato bridge. Timing my ascension to those beats, I climbed higher on the silks; twenty feet was not high enough.

When I had gone high enough to touch the ceiling with an outstretched hand, I stopped. The violin’s staccato rhythm faded into more of a flowing melody produced by pianos. I quickly wrapped my leg into the silks before flinging myself backwards. Once again, I was hanging upside down. The silks spun slowly in a complete rotation as I held the position. The details of my surroundings blurred together. Once I had gone a full rotation, I activated the downward spiral. The silks protected me from a lethal fall. Five feet, ten feet, until I flipped myself upwards against the downward momentum, grabbed a hold of the silks, and thrusted myself backwards.

I executed several backwards somersaults to the aerial hoop hanging eight feet away from the silks. My grip was solid, and my arms held strong as I held onto the bottom of the hoop. I had disturbed its equilibrium with my leap, and it swung violently. Still, I heaved my body up onto the hoop that became my swing. I leaned back against the hoop, allowing it to support me. I took a few moments to breathe before continuing with the rest of the routine. Still, I was performing, and was conscious of visual grace: my toes were pointed in a visually appealing way; one leg was straightened, the other bent so that the knee formed a perfect right triangle. My spine was resting against the side of the hoop, as if I was a goddess resting on her crescent moon. My arms took on the responsibility of the performance now and flowed through different positions as I fought to get my heartbeat reduced to more manageable levels.

"Are you done trying to give me a heart attack?" I heard the question through the earpiece that was inserted in my ear. My stomach fluttered at the sound of hearing his voice so intimately. "Just so we're on the same page, I'm not planning on spending my evening trying to put you back together when you splatter all over the floor."

"You mean watching Vega put me back together," I bantered, at once amused. I caught the musical cue indicating that my rest was over. Feeling like I had caught my breath and my heartbeat was at near normal levels, I progressed to the part of my routine involving the hoop. This involved flowing through different poses, including a sideways split where I was perpendicular to the ground and then going through variations of yoga's bow and one-legged king pigeon poses.

Jay was not as amused. "If you continue to operate under the delusion you can fly, I’m getting a beer," he threatened.

My lips twitched into a wider smile as I hung upside down. Jay's voice had reintroduced the rest of the world. The audience had circled around the performance ring. One section of it had people wearing exceedingly ostentatious outfits and in a stream of constant, jittery movement as they glanced up at me and waited for their turn in the spotlight. Rhinestones and sequins were used heavily in the performers' outfits. Twenty feet above, their faces were blurry. They became more distorted when I hung upside down, protected from gravity's pull by only my feet hooked around the hoop. Spectators contributed to the rest of the audience. Those who had arrived at Union Station with the main intention of observing the competition were in the inner circles. Those who had stumbled upon the performances as they roamed the city contributed to the outer circles; the daring feats, artistry, and music drawing their attention. Some held their cell phones, no doubt capturing my performance on video.

My performance may have been just a ruse, a means to an end, but I couldn’t help the influx of happiness that I felt from it. I had been tempting gravity and falls ever since I was four years old. I was in my element wrapped up in the silks thirty feet above ground. However, I hadn’t trained or performed anywhere this beautiful before. The Denver Union Station's architecture relied on a mixture of the Beaux-Arts, classical, and Romanesque revivals to create a refined ambience. Lamps hung from the ceiling, though they were unnecessary. There were windows stretching from the floor to the ceiling on the back wall of the station’s great hall that allowed in a good quantity of natural light. Long wooden tables and pews offered travelers and guests places to sit while they enjoyed their surroundings. An ice cream and coffee shop, a bar offering craft beer, and a bookstore claimed spaces along the perimeter of the hall and underneath the two-and-three story balconies that overlooked the square interior.

However, Denver’s Union Station's original identity was a train station. The property still clung onto that identity. The tracks to the long-distance trains had been installed underneath the great hall, while the more metropolitan trains had been installed to the building's rear.

"Just wait until I bring out the fire," I teased, muttering as to not disturb the performance.

Jay's groan came through the earpiece. "Should I just go over to the bar right now and order six tequila shots?"

"You could just trust me," I countered before I crunched upwards to regain a seated position on the hoop. The normal spin of the hoop had me gazing directly in Jay’s direction. He was an easy figure to spot, even though Galileo had wanted him to be inconspicuous. Unlike the crowd of spectators underneath me, Jay stood by himself on the perimeter of the great hall near the east entry. By design, he wore nondescript clothing that matched the sophistication of the building’s grand architecture and design. However, the newsboy hat, light blue button up shirt, and gray slacks did nothing to conceal his formidable form or cocky disposition. His hat concealed half of his face as he stared at his cell phone. His shaggy shoulder length hair displayed Jay's true personality: no matter how much you dressed him up in sophisticated clothing, he would always resist authority and discipline.

"One would think you are trying to get me drunk to put me at a disadvantage," he quipped. "I just found out what happened two nights ago; you're not getting out of telling me everything before we fly home."

My stomach twisted in embarrassment over what he was referencing; my face instantly heated with a deep blush. I forced a smile down towards the audience. "How did you find out?" I hissed.

"Xavier posted a huge rant to his page."

"You follow him? Why?" I grumbled. Jay had never met my boyfriend before—if we were even still together. I had left Xavi standing alone at the illuminated gazebo—one that he had spent all afternoon decorating with clear faery lights—with the dozen roses and ring in his hand. I boarded the plane to travel one thousand miles to Denver the next morning. The past few days had been so hectic with preparations that I had not spoken to the very person who was featured in many of my college memories. From an early age, Galileo, Vega's true name, had stressed compartmentalizing my two different lives. I had gotten a little too good at it, almost as if the sweet girl from Vanderbilt University wasn't the girl who had been developed as a vigilante agent since she was eight years old. Jay, however, relished in blurring the two identities.

Finishing my routine on the hoop, I initiated the transition back to the aerial silks. I tumbled through the air. There was enough forward momentum that I was able to reach the aerial silks and quickly wrap my body up into them. I had security in a matter of milliseconds and started to perform the next segment of the routine. Jay, ignoring my objection, remained focused on what he wanted to know. "So how did he do it? Was it as pathetic as I imagine it being?"

"Shadowfire. Spector." Galileo's warning was evident in his tone as it came through on the coms. He had heard the entire conversation while he sat at a corner table in the Thirsty Lion, waiting for his associates to appear. Galileo had not been very forthcoming about who these associates were when he advised us during the briefing that he would play the part of decoy while I completed my assignment. He even turned down Jay's offer of cover, declaring that there would be more danger in Union Station than at a mere meeting in a downtown restaurant.

Jay pretended he hadn't heard Galileo. "So how was it?" he pressed.

As I flung myself backwards, letting my head hang down, and bending my legs to form a lowercase ‘d’, I caught movement on one of the third story balconies. The Crawford Hotel claimed the space; several of their rooms occupied the level. My body flowed through my routine off muscle memory, and my focus changed, forgetting all about Jay's interrogation.

A solitary man stood at the balcony. His stance was relaxed enough for him to rest his forearms against the railing. I was close enough to see that his stern face didn’t reveal any emotion beyond boredom and mild contempt as he surveyed the great hall and the people down below with a frown. His short, but bushy, brunette salt and pepper curls surrounded his head with a bit of carelessness. He had failed to shave this morning if the blanket of stubble was any indication. He wasn't handsome by any means, although the arrogance he was presenting made me wonder if he thought otherwise. I had met men who held vast amounts of power; he reminded me of those men.

My gaze darted to the man's fingers, which were curled around the railing. The silver ring with the sunburst pattern identified him as one of the targets. Soon, he and his companions would be sitting across from Galileo in the restaurant, leaving their hotel room strategically vacant.

When his eyes flicked to mine, I was quick to turn my attention onto the audience and plaster a huge, fake smile on my face. The stranger's scorn only increased as he stared at me twirling around the silk. He obviously didn't have any appreciation for the arts and earned my own scorn. I quickly forgot these negative feelings when two men approached the other on the balcony. They too wore the sunburst rings Galileo had briefed us on. The first man straightened from his lean, pivoted, and joined his companions. As a group, they walked through the third-floor common area towards the elevators.

"Quarries are on their way down," I muttered as I pulled myself upright.

"About time. I was starting to wonder if they were comparing their dick sizes," Jay grumbled. I fought against rolling my eyes; Jay never appreciated the boredom that came with the more static mission assignments. He much preferred to be on the front lines.

On the other end of the coms, Galileo sighed over Jay's comment. "They are going to be on time," he defended.

I entangled the silk around my waist before spinning downwards. I stopped a couple of times during the descent to perform a series of different poses. I timed my final descent with the emergence of the targets on the main floor. None of them carried a briefcase, and once again, I wondered about the meeting Galileo was about to have. Galileo had refused to provide me with any specifics.

None of them glanced in my direction as they marched out of the hall. They didn't even glance at Jay as they walked past him. We were inconsequential to them—exactly as Galileo had wanted. "Quarries out and on their way to you, Vega," Jay announced.

I freed myself from the silks and continued with the mat portion of my routine. This time, I did not need trapezes, silks, or hoops to catch me as I executed a series of quick cartwheels, backhanded spring back tucks, and double backs. Right as the song ended on its final note, I ended the floor routine with an airborne somersault and landed in a split. My arms stretched over my head in a flourish. I rose and sprung into a curtsy to the spectators' roaring applause. The hall's acoustics amplified their approval. My grin was more genuine this time. I sought my coach's gaze. Olivia was standing at the forefront of the audience. With her confirming nod, I straightened from my curtsy and hurried over to her. She was ready to provide me with an ice-cold bottle of water.

It remained a mystery how Galileo managed to get all the planets aligned to get Olivia to represent me at the out-of-state competition. The petite woman with a straight brunette bob had been my aerial coach and choreographer since Galileo had deposited me with a permanent live-in caretaker in Nashville when I was ten years old. Jay was placed in a similar situation in Phoenix. "I want you to have a normal life," Galileo told the ten-year-old me. "You can't get that if you are in a new place every couple of days."

What he really meant was that he wanted me to have a semblance of a normal life. At least once a month, sometimes more depending on what he needed, he would detach me from the life I had built to complete a mission elsewhere. On one occasion, I had been walking out of my SAT exams to find him waiting outside of the school with plane tickets to Florence, Italy. There was a self-proclaimed ‘alchemist’ who claimed to have solved the equation to eternal life through the creation of the elixir of immortality. It turned out to be a scam after Jay and I posed as peer reviewers and interrogated the man. I returned to Nashville after a couple of days with my SAT scores waiting in my email inbox.

A trio of adolescent girls in lilac leotards and green sequined tutus ran out onto the mats and under the hanging equipment, which had been lowered for them. From the height of the equipment and their timidity, I could tell that the girls were beginners—perhaps this was their first time performing. Some encouraging shouts and claps erupted from two adults on the other side of the audience circle. There was some hesitation and clumsiness as the girls pulled themselves up onto the equipment and waited for their performance music to start. Olivia gave me a nostalgic glance, as if she was remembering my first recital. I responded with a small smile.

"So, while we're waiting, you could start telling me all about your lovely proposal." Jay continued to press. I glanced over my shoulder in his direction. The press of the audience restricted my view of the rest of the hall. It seemed as if all the tall people had decided to fill in the space between Jay and me. With Olivia right beside me, my communication was limited to grunting.

The girls' music started. I recognized the piece as a mermaid one, which explained their costumes. They started to flow through their routine. The three young mermaids were adorable enough to capture the audience’s attention. I shifted my weight and guzzled down the rest of the water, waiting. Then...

"They just walked in," Galileo informed. "You’re up, Shadowfire. I’m going silent." There was not a beep or tone to confirm that Galileo had turned off his coms. Our communication with our advisor had been severed by his own hand.

If this was something new, I would have been shocked. Galileo was the puppet master behind our missions. He always designed our missions and controlled which roles Jay and I were assigned. There was always a purpose behind these missions. Jay and I had concluded long ago that Galileo was working towards something specific. Whatever grand scheme Galileo was working towards, Jay and I trusted him and his intentions enough to go into the missions blindly.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

I shifted towards Olivia. "I'm going to run to the bathroom," I muttered near her ear. Olivia spared me a glance and a nod of acknowledgment before returning to evaluate the girls' performance. She still coached the younger girls back home, and I knew she was mentally recording the parts of the mermaids' choreography that inspired her.

Jay was waiting for me to emerge from the crowd before he started to pester me with questions again. Out of habit, my gaze drifted to where he was posted. As bored as he was, he still had the discipline to remain at the position. Now, however, his back and foot were pressed against the wall. His thumb made repeated upward motions as he scrolled down his phone's screen. He kept his head pointed towards the phone. I returned my focus to the wide arch separating the Crawford Hotel's lobby from the public hall. "You said no. Why? Was his proposal not up to your standards? Did he not know that you wanted your dream proposal to be on a beach with turquoise water lapping around your ankles?" Jay snorted mockingly.

"Maybe I'm just too fucked up in the head," I retorted cynically. I ditched the empty water bottle in a recycling bin and smiled towards one of the outlying audience members. I received a faint smile in return before she turned her eyes back to the ongoing performance. I captured the gazes of others walking through the great hall. It was difficult to remain inconspicuous in my outfit.

"Okay, too serious of a question. We'll get back to that one tonight."

"What makes you think I'm going to tell you anything? It's rather personal.”

Jay snorted. "One, I've known you since you were eight. I should be your number one for everything, and thus your confidant. Two, vodka loosens your lips. You'll be squealing every detail soon enough."

Before I crossed over the threshold separating the hall from the hotel lobby, Jay and I briefly made eye contact when I was a couple of feet away. He looked back down at his phone, and I looked further into the lobby. Midmorning, it was rather empty. When our arms brushed, he was ready to pass the plastic card into my possession. My palm framed the card; I kept my arm straightened and down by my thigh as I briskly stormed the hotel’s lobby without a shred of anxiety.

I knew where I was going and veered to the right in the middle of the lobby towards the elevators. The hotel had two receptionists working the desk. Both were looking at a computer monitor. The one who was helping the other with some task glanced up as I came into his line of sight. Determining I was not a problem, he returned his focus to assisting his companion. The security guard manning the lobby didn't even shift from his chair in the corner.

"When did you suddenly become a gossip?"

"When my friend had a man go down on his knee and declare he wanted to spend every day of his pathetic life with her! When my friend was not going to tell me anything."

"He didn't go down on his knee." I winced inwardly. My jab against the elevator button was a bit too forceful. Sometimes, I was unable to curtail my need to correct.

"What? That boy needs some schooling on how to properly romanticize a woman!" Jay exclaimed, transforming his voice into one containing a mocking shock.

"I'm so glad you find this amusing."

The elevator dinged before its doors opened to reveal an empty lift and my reflection was captured in the mirror installed on the elevator's back wall. I jabbed at the button listed as level three and waited. "Is that why you said no?" Jay pestered. "I wouldn't blame you if it was.”

"Skye never harasses me like this," I sighed, thinking of my first friend I had made in Nashville. She was friends with Xavier as well and placed in an awkward position after I rejected his proposal. I gazed at my reflection as the elevator ascended to the third floor. My costume was pure white and rather minimalistic. A silk leotard hugged my curves. A layer of lace fell over the silk and formed a skirt around my upper thighs. The hem was many different lengths, with the longest straps hanging in the back and sides. Tiny rhinestones decorated the lacy layer. Small silk straps held the dress up. Pieces of the lacy fabric were sewn on to drape over my shoulders while exposing the top. My dark hair had been secured in a bun and tiny rhinestone bobby pins were inserted for decoration. It revealed the slant of my neck and made-up face. As any nineteen-year-old would have done, I had outlined my eyes in black eyeliner to make them pop. The mirror reflected my purplish-blue gaze. My cheekbones were stark and prominent due to the combination of blush, highlighter, and exertion.

"She probably cared too much about your feelings."

"And you don't?"

"I know you're strong enough to handle my interrogation," Jay responded. The elevator dinged, and its doors slowly parted to reveal the third-floor common area. It was empty. Over the balcony, I could hear the mermaid soundtrack echoing throughout the great hall. Feeling my nerves twist in my gut, my hand clutched the access key as I navigated the corridor. This was my only tell. I kept my pace even and face expressionless. I remained close to the inner wall as to evade further detection. Several different arteries branched from the main corridor; I continued walking until the last one and then veered to the right. The natural lighting from the great hall was unable to reach the smaller corridor. Shadows filled the space. "What about the ring?" Jay mused after a couple of moments of silence.

"What about it?" I frowned.

The target room was the last door on the left. I slid the access key into the slot and waited for the indicator light to switch from red to green. It took a second for the transformation to occur, a buzz accompanying it. I twisted the door handle and used my shoulder to push open the door. "Was it the reason you said no? Was it a pathetic one? You can tell me the truth. I won't tell him!"

"You're following him on social media!" I walked into a small square foyer set up with an empty luggage rack. The door closed softly behind me. Careful to not make a sound—or even breathe—I used my angles as I sidestepped into the main room. It was easy enough to do barefoot. My eyes raced to identify any threats. My arms lifted mid-chest to protect my face if need be; my hands formed fists; my stance became bladed; my knees bended in preparation of throwing a roundhouse. I kept my body relaxed as I did another visual sweep of the room and its shadows. The men had left the living area's curtains drawn, so the morning sunlight provided all the light I needed to see by.

The suite was lavishly designed. A beige couch was pushed up against the wall. A square table large enough to hold a gathering of six was adjacent to the couch. A mirror hung over the couch and reflected a view of the first bedroom and parts of an adjacent marble bathroom. Both areas appeared to be vacant. I advanced to the master bedroom and hovered just outside of the doorway. Empty as well. "It's clear, if you wanted to know," I advised Jay.

"Good. Now about that ring," he persisted.

My eyebrows shot up. "Xavi is getting his doctorate," I excused. The men had not made themselves at home. Besides a black leather bag on the wooden table, there was no other clutter. No one had unpacked their suitcases or left a jacket draped over a chair. The bed in the master bedroom didn’t even look like it had been slept in, while the provided hygiene items were untouched. Scanning the space again, I was unable to find any suitcases.

"Thank you. That tells me everything! Now, he didn't kneel, the ring sucked—"

Before I could try to apply some logic to the lack of suitcases, my instincts alarmed. In an instant rush, adrenaline pulsed through my body. My peripheral vision caught movement in the mirror above the couch in the main sitting room. I had my arms up to cross-block the wooden staff from crashing down into my skull before my brain had fully interpreted what it had seen in the mirror’s reflection.

The staff collided with my forearm. Blunt pain radiated from the impact spot, and I knew I would have a bruise there later. Grunting and biting my lip, I was quick to reach around to grab the staff with both hands as my feet pivoted. My first glimpse of my attacker revealed a man about Jay’s height with a protruding stomach. His eyes and facial expression reflected his surprise over my response, telling me he was exceedingly arrogant. He had thought I would go down with a couple of blows to the head.

I yanked the staff backwards, and then aimed a kick towards his knee. The man grunted in pain but did not release the staff. I tried to sharply push it down at an angle. It was too late, as he was able to compile force on his own end and rip the staff out of my hands. He moved it so that it was horizontal against his upper chest and charged at me. My arms strained to push the staff away. I stumbled backwards against his charge and into the bedroom. I tripped backwards onto the bed. The man used his own weight to press me down against the mattress. The staff pressed down against my neck, immediately separating me from air. His breath warmed my cheek. Oddly, he smelled like stewed tomatoes.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed. His face was so close I could see the specks of yellow in his brown irises. "Who are you?"

Inside of my ear, Jay was alert. "What’s going on, Shadowfire?" His interrogative banter had been replaced by a dangerous solemnness.

I grimaced. "Stop being an alpha-fuckturd," I mumbled at Jay. The man above me blinked in distracted confusion, providing me with the perfect opening. I drove my hips upwards, kicked him off me, and ripped the staff out of his hands before he lost his footing and stumbled back. It was my turn to go on the offensive. He was already so off balance that he stumbled backwards and collided with the dresser from one powerful thrust of the staff. I was already swinging the staff, targeting his exposed core, and rapidly following with a strike to his calf. The man remained bent sideways and managed to shuffle away from the dresser. I was already moving, crouched down low and spinning. The staff became an extension of me. It collided with the man's feet, tripping him. I jumped back as he went down with a thunderous bang. I felt the vibrations underneath my feet.

He landed on his side. The positioning was not perfect. I lunged forward and using leverage, forced him onto his stomach. I wedged the staff underneath his neck before yanking up. The man started to gag and sputter. My eyes drifted up to the ceiling and waited for that moment when the man’s body stopped fighting me and drifted into unconsciousness. It came a couple of seconds later.

Wasting no time, I dismounted and scurried backwards to put enough distance between us. I watched him, waiting, observing. From the way he was evenly breathing, I didn’t think he was resorting to tricks to gain the upper hand. He was truly unconscious. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me, that another presence was in the room. Yet, no one else attacked from the shadows. The floorboards were silent, the sunlight filtering in through the windows was undisturbed in both rooms. Beyond the man's nasally breathing, the entire suite was quiet. The paranoia had to be in my mind. I slowly lowered the staff to my side.

"Done beating the poor soul who came across you?" Jay’s voice was laced with sardonicism.

"The fool came at me with a staff," I responded.

"Fool." Jay snorted in agreement. "That was the worst choice he could have made."

"I thought Vega said there were supposed to be only three of them. Three went to the meeting, right?" I kept the staff tucked underneath my arm as I went to the table in the main room. It was the only place in the suite where the men had placed any personal belongings. I pulled the bag towards me.

"Smart on their part, though. Leaving a fourth behind," Jay critiqued. "It goes to show that whoever they are, they don't trust Vega."

I felt around the exterior of the bag. I didn’t feel anything sharp or dangerous, so I put my hand into it. At the bottom of the pack, there was a drawstring leather pouch mixed with a bunch of papers. I pulled it out and discarded the bag. The pouch was slightly bigger than the palm of my hand, and there was a weight to it. I felt a flare of relief and satisfaction. This had to be it, this had to be the objective of the mission.

When Galileo had briefed Jay and me the night before and explained that the objective of this mission would be to steal a compass, Jay had snorted with disdain. "Why can’t you go and buy one at the store? Do you need a dollar?" Galileo looked like he would slap Jay across the head. Instead, he chose the more serene path and told us he desired a specific compass. Galileo never acted like money was tight—he never seemed to look at the bill for anything—and everything we needed, he was able to purchase without blinking an eye at the cost. If he wanted an expensive compass that still navigated to true north and included different technological features, he could have bought himself one. He couldn’t have wanted the compass for nostalgic reasons, as Galileo was not extremely materialistic or sentimental.

Presently holding the compass in my hands, I now understood why Galileo’s heart was set on this one. I had to hold it with both hands; the weight was beyond reasonable for such an instrument meant to guide wanderers. The framing consisted of white gold. The gold navigational star was plotted in a small center circle on the compass's face. A diamond had been inserted in the center of the star. One mercury needle was improperly positioned over the western arrow, failing to point to true north. Galileo would have to get the compass recalibrated if he wanted to use it. However, perplexed, I counted four more needles of various lengths.

The compass's face displayed a snapshot of stars against a deep violet backdrop. There were twelve triangular inlays on the outer edges of the compass's frame, with the points directed towards the navigational star. Different gemstones were seated in twelve inlays running around the compass’s circumference. I recognized amethyst, ruby, and turquoise amongst the different gems used. There was a divot at the top of the compass. It appeared as if it had hosted a thirteenth jewel, which was missing now. Each gemstone was paired with a mysterious symbol that had been etched into the framing. There were five dials installed along the sides. A chain of the same white gold the compass had been crafted from hung from the instrument’s top and dangled over the edge of my hand.

As my fingers hovered over one of the dials, I was tempted to twist it. My hesitation prevented me from giving into the temptation. I was hit with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, as if I had seen this instrument before. It was an instinct deep inside of my body, even though my rational thought protested due to the lack of memory. Studying the compass’s face, I racked my mind for an inkling of memory to make sense of the feeling. I struggled to find the two neurons to link together to provide me with the answers I needed. There was nothing.

Already on edge, I nearly jumped out of my skin when Galileo’s panicked voice erupted against my eardrum. "Shadowfire, Spector. Get out of there now. Abort the mission. Rendezvous at the Platte and Blake." The panic in his voice was alarming and unusual. Galileo could control his emotions. He went through our briefings with an air of indifference. Something had gone terribly wrong.

"Shadowfire is still in there," Jay protested.

"Shadowfire, get out of there now." Galileo barked.

"What if she hasn’t found the target?" Jay fired quickly in return.

"It doesn’t matter. They know. They are coming back right now. Shadowfire, get out there! Forget about the compass!"

"How do they know?"

"That is beside the point!" Galileo snapped, exasperated.

I shoved the compass back into its leather pouch and left the hotel suite in haste. I was out of the hotel room in less than ten seconds and rushing down the hallway. With my blood flowing through my veins as quickly as it was, I didn't have the patience to take the elevator. I wanted control of my movements, so I took the staircase. "I’m out," I informed Galileo and Jay breathlessly. "I’m taking the stairs."

"She ran into another man in the hotel room," Jay informed Galileo. It sounded like he was walking quickly.

"Another?" The shock in Galileo's voice was prominent. He was breathless from his own pace.

"She took care of him."

"I don't doubt it, but..."

The bottom of the staircase shot out into one of the hallways jetting from the main hall, right next to a set of public restrooms. I forced myself to slow down into a leisurely walk as I merged onto the hallway. There was a long line of females waiting to get into the female facilities, while the males were entering and exiting theirs with ease. I kept my gaze pointed towards the ground as I walked out towards the great hall, only lifting my eyes whenever I had to navigate. I didn't dare to make eye contact with anyone else in the hall. My grip was tight around the compass, which I partly hid from sight by keeping it by my thigh. Due to my stature, I was able to dodge and sidestep the people who lingered in my path. It was pedestrian chaos in that hallway, and I felt an overwhelming sense of relief when I had reached the great hall.

Jay was waiting right next to the hallway’s intersection with the great hall. He fell in step with me. There was a wide aisle that was void of pedestrian traffic and led to the opposite side of the hall. I did not deviate from this path. Pew formations and long tables bordered both sides of the aisle. A handful of people were slouched against the pews, while there were people working on their tablets at the broad tables, coffee cups within reach. Up ahead and to my left, the aerial performances continued. A couple was swinging around on the trapeze together in a routine set to what sounded like Beethoven. The audience was still immense, and I couldn't see Olivia standing in one of the inner circles where I had left her, blissfully arrogant as to what I was really doing here.

"So, what happens now?" Jay inquired casually, keeping up with the pace I had set.

I threw him a frown. "What do you mean?" There were people patronizing the hall’s craft brewery, socializing over a couple of beers. A long line waited at the coffee shop. Tourists were turning slowly in circles, snapping pictures at everything that enchanted them. Two sets of professional photographers were capturing the essence and beauty of fresh love with their respective couples.

"Between you and Xavier?"

My gaze flickered upwards in exasperation. "I really don't know."

"Are you two together still?"

"I'm not sure. There hasn't been time to hash everything out, has there? But probably not. You can't really come back from that type of rejection."

Jay and I had made it halfway across the hall when I saw Galileo dart into the building, interrupt the cafe line, and rapidly search the hall. I had never seen his facial features as tight as they were right at that moment. Catching sight of us together, Galileo stopped right at the end of the aisle, waiting for us. I saw his eyes shift from Jay, to me, and then to something over my shoulder. Whatever it was, it held his gaze. Relief had flourished in his eyes right when he saw Jay and I were together, both of us alive. However, that relief instantly transformed into horror and disbelief at whatever he saw over my shoulder. My mouth suddenly became parched, while my heart returned to thumping against its confines. I moved to look over my shoulder. My feet got tangled, and I started to trip. Jay’s hand shot out to help stabilize me. He gripped my upper arm hard enough to leave a bruise until I found my balance again. The compass almost fell out of my grip. I tightened my hold around it, readjusting my fingers to new spots due to the perspiration on the leather.

I took one step forward in the effort to regain my balance. As soon as my foot touched the ground, and the other foot started to swing forward, I felt a chill rush through my body. It started in my core and then radiated outwards towards my extremities until my fingers were suddenly frozen. The chill stole my ability to breathe. Seconds, that was all it took for my mind to start separating from my body and the brutal chill. Ripping pain erupted around my right shoulder blade.

Then there was nothing but darkness.