Sam
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—something from all her fruitless online searching—has materialized in her life.
Diamond Taylor is seated right there, near the side of the stage.
There is the hush of a door opening and closing, then silence.
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.
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.”
“Not Hades.”
“Why not?”
“He’s too eager, and I’d prefer not to tempt him.”
“Are we actually concerned about ACPD now?”
“Not Hades,” Diamond repeats, and the other backs down. “We aren’t trying to draw attention here.”
Then Will speaks for the first time. “Bird in the rafters,” he says softly.
His voice is low and quiet, but it carries well, and the conversation around him pauses as if someone has switched the sound off. One moment Diamond is talking, and the next, she and her associate have turned their heads in the direction of where Sam is hiding.
Sam holds her breath and freezes, willing herself to disappear.
Will looks toward her. His gaze is like the sear of an iron; she finds herself sucking in her breath as if in pain. Then he steps up to the streetlamp and touches the pole with his fingers.
The dimness around the lamp suddenly dips into an inky black. The lamplight itself brightens, crackling, illuminating her.
Sam presses herself back against the wall and closes her eyes. Fear roils through her in a violent wave, making her dizzy. Did she really just witness that? How did he do it, make the light stronger? How did he know she was here? No one ever notices her. She hadn’t uttered a sound.
A shadow steps in front of her. She moves on instinct to flee, but it is too late.
A large pair of hands closes around her arms, and suddenly she is dragged out of her hiding place and into the open.
Everyone is looking at her now. Her eyes are wide and wild as the hands pull her toward where Diamond stands with her son, their gazes trained on her.
Diamond’s expression doesn’t change. She glances at one of her men.
“I thought you secured the area,” Diamond says to him.
The man shrugs nervously, unwilling to meet her gaze. “Maybe she was already there. Small thing.”
“How old are you?” Diamond asks Sam.
“Eighteen,” she says.
“You’re not eighteen. Answer me again.”
The authority in her voice is quiet and seasoned with age. Sam trembles all over. “Fifteen,” she whispers this time.
“What’s your name?”
“Samantha Lang,” she says, too afraid to lie again.
“And what did you hear, Samantha Lang?”
She stares up at Diamond’s imperial figure and shakes her head emphatically.
Beside Diamond, her son tucks his hands into his pockets and nods toward the side door.
“Someone might have sent her,” he says.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, those around Diamond shift their stances. Will sweeps his hand along the theater’s wall. And there, before Sam’s eyes, the bricks he touches crumble into nothing and re-form into a gun in his hand. He lets the weapon hang at his side.
Her heart hammers in confusion. It is the magic show inside the theater, except this time it is not a show at all.
It is seeing the fork become the spoon, except this time it is a weapon that can kill her.
She has the surreal sense of wading through one of her dreams, except here she can feel the wall hard against her back, the sweat trickling down her neck.
Alchemy. The word rings in her mind, impossible and glaring. But how can it be real?
Diamond gives her a pointed look. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I was just trying to stay out of people’s way,” Sam stammers.
“Are you always this good at it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Mm,” Diamond answers with a sympathetic murmur. “You shouldn’t be here.”
In that, Sam hears the true danger of her situation.
This is a moment of life or death. She begins shaking violently.
The next few potential minutes flash before her eyes.
She imagines Diamond’s subtle nod to Will, him striding toward her and lifting the gun, the hands of men tightening around her arms to hold her in place.
There would be a muffled pop pop. Sam has heard the sound before.
Would they then leave her on the street as a warning?
Would they take her body away to dispose of somewhere, so no gossip spreads?
A tidal wave rises in her chest now, a desperate will to survive. She has to think quickly.
Sam recalls the conversation she’d just overheard. Her tongue loosens in panic, and she blurts out, “You have seven of your people out here with you right now, including the three you sent to watch from the roof.”
Diamond’s eyes narrow. “Nosy little bird,” she says.
Sam keeps talking. “I can recite your entire conversation back to you.” She starts repeating everything Diamond and her associate had said, right down to the inflections in their voices.
Diamond laughs a little, and the others laugh with her.
Will’s lips twist in irritation and he looks away from the scene.
But as Sam goes on and doesn’t leave out a single word, Diamond’s laughter fades and she stares at Sam, pondering.
Sam wonders if she is debating whether or not Sam is worth listening to a little longer.
She reaches the end of her recited conversation and immediately begins saying something else. Anything to stretch the time.
“I can recite the numbers of pi longer than anyone else I know. I can remember a thousand digits of it.” She begins, her tongue stumbling over itself in her rush.
Diamond and her son exchange a glance. Then the woman takes several steps toward Sam and bends down on one knee to meet her gaze straight on.
Sam feels paralyzed at her attention. Diamond isn’t beautiful, but it doesn’t matter—her eyes are as sharp and arresting as a hawk’s, a shade of brown so light that even in the shadows, they have a gold glint about them.
As the woman waits, Sam goes on in an endless, terrified train of 3.
14159265, until finally she holds up a hand. Sam’s voice fades away into nothing.
“Why are you really here, Samantha?” Diamond asks her again.
The woman’s voice sounds so soft and understanding that Sam feels an urge to cry.
A lady with a heart. She nods without knowing why she is nodding.
“Yes, ma’am,” she says. “It’s my mom. She lost her job.
Got injured when the restaurant where she works had a gas leak.
” She swallows. “People say you can make anything happen.”
“So you came here tonight looking for me,” Diamond says.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And what did you expect to get?”
“I don’t know, ma’am,” Sam says timidly, aware of the audacity of her actions, a child asking the most powerful woman in the city for a moment of her time. “Nothing, ma’am. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Diamond seems to catch the desperation in Sam’s words. She searches Sam’s face thoughtfully. “And your memory is as good as your ability to sneak around,” she says.
“It’s the best,” Sam says. The conviction in her own voice surprises her. Maybe she had come here tonight to prove herself. Maybe she wanted to know if she could become more.
“The best,” Diamond repeats.
“Yes, ma’am. I can remember a whole book after I read it once. Word for word.”
“Is that so? How?”
Sam struggles for an answer she thinks might make Diamond more interested in this conversation. “I just remember things,” she replies helplessly.
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Will says with a sigh.
Diamond ignores him and reaches into her pocket. It must be a gun. Sam feels dangerously close to losing control of her bladder.
But when Diamond’s hand reemerges, it holds what looks like a thin booklet. She opens it to the first page and turns it to face Sam.
“Show me,” she says.
It is a handwritten page of names, numbers, dates, and lists.
Sam only has time to take one full look at it before Diamond closes the book again.
She can feel the throb of her heart as it beats out its potential final seconds, the nearness of the men around her, and holds herself tight in anticipation of a bullet searing through her skin. She takes a deep breath.
Then she recites back every single name, number, and date.
As she speaks, Diamond looks at the page, checking her statements with a calm face.
Sam finishes and falls silent again, her throat aching. Did she remember it correctly? She trusts in her abilities because they have never yet failed her, but here, her faith in herself wavers. Sam waits, wondering if the cold barrel of a gun will press against her head now.
Diamond touches her shoulder. Sam stiffens at the gentle weight of her hand. The woman watches her with a thoughtful expression, then withdraws her hand and stands up. Sam gets the curious feeling that she has just been tested, although for what, she doesn’t know.
“She’s too old,” Will says to his mother. “It’ll take too long to train her.”
“Constantine’s right,” says the man Diamond had addressed.
The name pings in Sam’s perfect memory. Constantine. She had heard it mentioned by the men in the restaurant, all those years ago.
Diamond lifts a casual hand without looking at her associate, and he quiets immediately.
Beside her, Will’s lips tighten with dislike.
Some unspoken conversation has passed between them.
Sam can feel her fate shifting, changing like a weather forecast. Will tucks the gun away at his belt, and his gesture makes light glint off the gold winged lion pinned at his collar.
At last, Diamond says to Sam, “Can you come see us tomorrow?”
It is less a question than a command, and Sam knows that she can only give one answer. “Yes,” she replies.
Diamond nods. Sam has passed the test.
“Then let’s see what you can do for us, little bird.”