Sam
Sam has no idea how she stays standing, observing the scene calmly. As if from a great distance, she watches Ari say something to Rudra as they walk, the man responding, Ari nodding in agreement. Again and again, she looks at his face. Surely she must be mistaken. It can’t be him. For years, she has automatically searched for Ari’s face in crowds, hoping to see him again, hoping for so long that the instinct to find him has embedded itself in the back of her mind. Maybe that’s what is happening right now—that instinct misfiring, molding a stranger into Ari.
But this isn’t a mistake.
Everything about him has changed, yet it is undeniably him. Even as a child, Ari was someone who drew others to his presence—but now there is an air of impossible grace about him, an irresistible pull that she cannot define. Those eyes are as dark and exquisite as ever, although they no longer look like they belong on a boy. His face is more refined, more contemplative, someone who has grown into all his features in the most elegant way. He is dressed simply, in the way that old money dresses simply—all clean lines and exquisite tailoring, a long, deep green coat draped over a slate-gray sweater and trousers, several silver rings encircling his fingers.
And then, of course, his fox pin.
A Lumines crewman.
She closes her eyes and tries to calm down.
Of course it isn’t impossible. Hadn’t Ari given her clues during their final conversation? Hadn’t he said he would be leaving, but kept the details a secret? Hadn’t he vanished from her life without a trace, despite his promise? Hadn’t a mysterious black car come to pick him up from school every afternoon? His letters flutter through her memory now like a flipbook, every word imprinted on her mind. Their quiet laughs at the back of the classroom, their moment crouched in the nook at the library, watching the rain. Theirreluctance to share the details of their lives in their letters, the way they always talked around the things that mattered. Had everything been there in his words all along, in their endless philosophical musings and seemingly trivial debates?
One becomes the other becomes the one.
Had he already begun his training when he’d written that in one of his first letters to her? Even then, she’d wondered idly if she should ask him about alchemy. Her instinct had been right, after all.
A cluster of guests in front of Sam abruptly shifts out of her way. And for a brief, fateful moment, Sam is in Ari’s line of sight.
Out of everyone in this room, it is his eyes alone that lock effortlessly onto hers, noticing her regardless of the effects of sand.
He recognizes her in an instant. Sam can tell by the way his eyes widen, how the edges of his smile stiffen.
To his credit, he doesn’t misstep in his conversation at all. There is no halt or hesitation. He stares for a moment—then blinks and looks away from her, laughs appropriately at what Rudra says, replies.
No, Ari isn’t just a Lumines crewman. He’s speaking to Rudra almost as an equal. He’s highly ranked within the syndicate, perhaps Rudra’s understudy.
Something dawns on her.
Is he Shakespeare?
Lumines’s young negotiator. The charismatic alchemist being gossiped about throughout the city. It would make so much sense, the way he’s speaking with Rudra, the way people react to him, the kind of pull he has always had. The possibility sends a fresh wave of nausea through her.
What’s going throughhismind? Who does he think Sam is? Why does he thinkshe’shere?
Then they’ve passed her and are making their way toward Will at the end of the hall. As if in a trance, Sam looks on as Rudra and Will exchange nods.
Shit.What does Lumines have up their sleeves tonight? Will told her not to come to the meeting, but should she let Will know right away that she recognizes Ari, has known him for years, is afraid of what he can do? How would she even tell him in time?
She maneuvers as close as she dares before hiding in the shadow of a nearby doorway, where she can hear their conversation.
“I don’t appreciate being kept waiting, Mr. Mahajan,” Will is saying to Rudra. Sam notes his choice to use Rudra’s name instead of his attribution, Prometheus. It is a subtle way to belittle Rudra, to let him know that Will is not pleased at being dragged to this impromptu meeting.
“Takes time for little boys to learn patience, Mr. Taylor,” Rudra replies, neglecting to use Will’s attribution too. “This is my associate, Shakespeare.”
Sam feels sick to her stomach. It is him, after all.
Will sizes Ari up with a cool glance. “You’ve built yourself quite the reputation.”
Ari’s voice is clear and polite. “I’m just here to make sure we all get what we want.”
“Then let’s not waste each other’s time,” Will answers. It’s all he gives Ari before turning his attention back to Rudra. A dismissal, and a warning to Ari not to overstep his place. “The sooner we clear up these misunderstandings, the faster we can get back to our business.”
Then they are filing into the room, and the hall turns empty again.
Sam swears under her breath again and turns away, stopping at the end of the hall to stare out at the crowd. There is nothing for her to do but wait and observe. She hesitates, pacing the hall for a while before she finally forces herself to leave and make a round.
