Sam
Sam’s palms break out in a sweat.
Now that she sees the woman, she has no idea what to do next. All she can do is stare, a lump in her throat, hardly able to believe that after all these years, something from what she overheard in the restaurant—somethingfrom all her fruitless online searching—has materialized in her life. Diamond Taylor is seated right there, near the side of the stage.
Onstage, the suspended actor suddenly arches backward, legs hooked against the spinning ring. The audience gasps as she flips out of the ring—and before Sam’s eyes, the entire hoop vanishes, replaced with a ribbon of crimson silk that the performer now uses to twirl her way down. Another burst of delighted applause from the audience. Everyone seems to enjoy the illusions, but Sam watches with a strange sense of recognition in her chest, thinking of the fork that had become a spoon. The second actor runs his hand across the wooden floor, pulling a sword seemingly out of the stage, and as he reaches the first performer, he slashes out at her. She flinches backward, a blade appearing in her own hand out of nowhere, and the two clash, metal ringing against metal.
Down in the seats, Sam notices Diamond studying the performance with a critical eye before exchanging more words with her seatmate.
The mock battle onstage goes on for a few minutes before Diamond rises quietly. As she does, something small and gold glints on the lapel of her jacket—and even though the woman is too far away to make out any details, Sam’s breath catches in her throat. She thinks instantly of the men in the restaurant, their pins in the shape of a golden fox.
Diamond’s entourage gets up in unison, making way for her as she heads out through the nearest exit. Sam catches more glints of gold on their jackets. They follow Diamond out of the darkness and into the hall, where the door shuts behind them.
Sam watches them file out. Where are they going? Surely they aren’t leaving already, in the middle of the show? She stays frozen where she is for a moment, eyes darting back to the stage, before she finally hurries away too, hoping to catch one more glimpse of Diamond as she makes her way out of the theater.
Except when Sam makes it down the stairs to the main lobby, the woman and her entourage aren’t there either. Instead, Sam hears a faint murmur of voices near the back of the main hall. Numb with curiosity, she heads toward it, compelled by something deep in her chest.
There is the hush of a door opening and closing, then silence.
Sam makes her way down a narrow hallway until she reaches an unremarkable back exit cast in shadows. She looks behind her, as if anxious that someone might tell her to stop. Then she takes a deep breath and heads out. The door swings open without a sound and clicks softly closed behind her.
She’s in the alley alongside the theater, the narrow path separated from the street by a fence, metal stairs running up the side of the wall. Only one streetlamp illuminates part of the space; angular shadows engulf the rest.
She makes her way down the walkway until voices make her freeze. She tucks herself away in the shadows. A larger person wouldn’t be able to hide here. But there is a turn in the wall small enough for Sam to wedge herself into, and it casts a shadow just big enough to hide her.
As she peers out from her hiding place, she sees the source of the voices, a small cluster of people gathered near the walkway leading around the back of the building. In the center of them, partly illuminated by the lone streetlamp, is Diamond Taylor.
Now an alarm in Sam’s head starts to buzz, warning her that she shouldn’t be here, but it’s too late to turn back without drawing attention to the door.
At Diamond’s side stands a young man. He’d had his back turned to her in the theater, but now Sam gets a good look at him. He is tall, graceful, and impeccably dressed, his hands tucked into the pockets of his suit. Like everyone else, he wears a gold pin on his lapel. His eyes are cold and bright, his gaze sweeping around their small group and then along the alleyway before settling back on Diamond. Sam shrinks instinctively against the wall, as if his stare is the path of a fire. Although his facial features are similar to the woman’s, they are not the same, and something about that difference means he is beautiful while she is not.
This must be her son, Will Taylor.
Sam likes Ari at school, blushes when he smiles at her, finds herself wanting constantly to be near him—but Will is mature in a way that makes her stomach ache.
Something shifts on the roof, and Sam’s eyes follow the movement. There, she catches another silhouette, the form of a person so subtle against the night that she almost misses it. Her skin tingles with alarm. There are people up there too, watching.
“Lumines isn’t supposed to be here,” one of the others says to Diamond now.
“They’ve heard about the lead actors tonight,” another says. “Everyone’s keeping tabs on new talent in the city.”
“They want us to know they’re encroaching on our spaces. Like Fantec.”
“Why, what’s happened?”
“Lumines has bought up more of Fantec’s time.”
“They don’t think diluting the price of sand will hurt them in the long run?”
“Maybe they’re trying to front-load their sales before the next attempt to ban sand.”
One of them snorts. “Government’s been trying to ban sand for a decade. No law’s passing with that many congressmen as our customers.”
“He’s right. No, this is an expansion attempt.”
“Patience,” Diamond answers. Her voice is smooth, almost soothing. “Where’s Jabir?”
“Tonight? He’s in the South Bay. Send Hades instead.”
