After a week of what felt like a soulful vacation with an always ominous undertone, Sheera's training had progressed to the second level. She now faced the tall order of learning the spells in the Ancient Egyptian text that was changing the course of history without the world even knowing it.

The first challenge for Sheera was to decipher ancient hieroglyphs, which seemed absurd for someone with so little time and scholarly experience. Despite the impossible task it was a crucial step, as the spells were stronger when memorized from the original symbols etched on the papyrus pages. The Shadowers didn't have that luxury, as Gabriel had only stolen the last few pages and committed the rest to memory. It made whatever he taught his followers that much less effective, but their advantage remained in having the pages that contained the most powerful spells. In the end, it would come down to whether the current class of Kindreds could use their advantage to overcome the Shadower's possession of the strongest spells.

With the future possibility of this battle in mind, Sheera had no choice but to focus on this seemingly impossible task. The only thing working in her favour was a committed work ethic of studying ten hours a day, paired with the fact that each of the spells was only a few lines long. She wasn't allowed to remove the book of spells from Madam Quillfern's secure study, so instead she made a home at an extra desk in the corner, with the always-glittering magical atlas keeping watch over her slow and steady progress...

***

Late one studious afternoon, Sheera shouted out triumphantly. "A-ha!"

She had finally deciphered and memorized first spell, and aside from the wholesome triumph of making progress in this all-important quest, it would also mean spending time with Luke, who was designated to supervise when she practiced any and all spells. All she had to do now was say the spell out loud and conjure it into life, a process that would normally take a few hundred repetitions — not that she had the time.

Despite the onset of another hurdle, Sheera was eager to have some human contact, especially if it involved seeing Luke. He seemed to be the only one who even had time for her lately, with the other Kindreds always busy double-checking mysterious plans she hadn't been allowed to see.

She pushed the lack of security clearance out of her mind, and for the first time allowed her thoughts to wander over to that night at the Eiffel Tower. Had that moment when he'd brushed the strand of hair out of her face been anything significant? Or was he simply worried about her hair getting stuck in her eyeball, where it would spin round and round until the tension of the hair strand squeezing around her eyeball caused it to burst into goo.

"Nah..." she said smiling. He had no eyeball worries and probably just liked her, which was awfully convenient since she found herself liking him too.

"Ding-dooonggg!" The gilded grandfather clock chimed to report that it was already two p.m.

Sheera carefully closed the delicate spell book, eager to get out of there and begin her first lesson in practical magic.

As she rose from her chair she heard a faint hissing sound, like someone slowly taking the air out of a plastic bag. The sound seemed to be coming from the magical atlas, which currently had the world map on display. The tiny glittering dots of vibrant souls looked no different than before, but then she noticed it: a small trail of smoke rising out of the bottom corner of the map. She started slapping it with the spell book, worried that it would catch fire. Than she realized she was slapping the legendary spell book against a possibly developing fire.

"Shit!" She gently put the spell book back on her desk, then turned back and started stamping out the smoking corner of the atlas with her shoe. When the smoke cleared she squinted and saw the percentage counter.

Then let out a gasp.

Fourteen percent. It was one percent lower than the week before, and one step closer to falling below ten percent, the doomsday percentage of vibrant souls on earth, which would give the head Shadower Gabriel Asher the power he needed to destroy humanity as we knew it.

Madam Quillfern had gone out on an errand but was sure to arrive back at any minute. Was it best to wait until she returned to deliver the news? Or was it better to sound the alarm to anyone in the house who would listen, letting them know they were one step closer to doom?

Sheera opened the study door and peeked out into the hallway. All seemed quiet for once, so she scurried up the two additional flights of stairs. When she arrived in her room she found Orisa staring at the bulletin board, in an almost hypnotic-like state.

"Hey, are you busy?"

Orisa peeled her eyes away from the board and seemed uncomfortable. "I am always quite busy but how can I help?" She sat on her bed and managed a smile, but Sheera could tell she was acting strange.

"What were you doing when I got here?"

"Just reading something."

"Reading what? The only thing on that bulletin board is my to-do list, some photos from home and a calendar." There was a pocket-sized calendar pinned to the board. "You were reading a calendar that intensely?"

Orisa nodded, her usual stoic expression back in place. "As we are not permitted to have phones while we are here, I thought it might be nice to keep a better tracking of dates."

Her answer made enough sense for Sheera to shrug it off and focus on her actual mission. "So listen...I was in the study and it happened."

"It?"

"The atlas, the magical atlas?" Orisa stared at her blankly. "The percentage went to down to fourteen," she whispered.

Orisa showed no emotion. "I suppose we might've expected this."

Sheera's eyes widened. "Well what do we do now?! What if all of a sudden people feel more insignificant? Or watch too much depressing news? Or have their dreams crushed or hearts crushed to cause the percentage of vibrant souls to dip down below ten percent before we know it?!" She finished her freak-out by letting out a long breath.

"We will have to hope it is not such a quick demise," said Orisa rather matter-of-factly. "And in the meantime..."

"Yes?" said Sheera, eyes brimming with hope.

"In the meantime there is a meeting tonight in Madam Quillfern's study, and I think you will need to attend."

***

Later that night after dinner, Luke, Arjun, Orisa, Sheera and Xavier sat huddled around Madam Quillfern's desk.

"Le Mettrice," said Madam Quillfern in a regal tone. "A five-star hotel that is truly palatial in the style of old France, situated just across from the once equally regal Tuileries gardens."

Everyone nodded like they knew what Madam Quillfern was talking about. Sheera meanwhile stared from person to person, trying to decipher Madam Quillfern's opening statement that for the moment left her clueless.

"In a few nights," she went on, "Gabriel Asher will be having a private party in the hotel's primary ballroom." Sheera was the only one to gasp. "It is only due to Asher's vain and narcissistic disposition that he emerge from his hideout for a party, drawn in no doubt by the exquisite drapes, marble floors, glimmering chandeliers and baroque-period gilded sconces. Not to mention the exclusivity which would please his enormous ego."

Xavier sneered. "He does not deserve Paris."

"That much is right, Xavier," Madam Quillfern said nodding, "but owing to his obsession with material things—and Orisa's incredible work gaining the trust of a key employee at Le Mettrice—we have a chance to discover the true size and scope of the Shadower army." She gestured to Orisa. "Would you take us through some of the finer details?"

Orisa stood and laid out a complex drawing that resembled the hotel layout. "The last time anyone saw Gabriel was in the London museum. Our best guess is that from there, he spent a few years staying underground while he rebuilt his base of recruits, much like we did after losing some of our finest." Everyone lowered their heads for a moment so Sheera followed suit. "Six months ago here in Paris, there was word of wandering people...partial memory loss...confusion...robberies that couldn't be explained...objects that had been in one place but wound up in another...it was all the signs of Gabriel Asher and his followers."

"Where is he staying?" said Sheera, glancing around instinctively as if he might be right behind her.

"No one knows, but it's clear that some of those robberies are the reason he can afford to reserve this exclusive ballroom for a party." She gestured to the drawing. "The hotel prides itself on security, and there is no doubt that that Gabriel's most intimidating Shadowers will be guarding him throughout the night to make sure no one gets too close. Which is fine, of course, as it is not our goal to stop him on this night."

Xavier sighed in exasperation. "But this is the first time we are seeing him in years! If we gain access, stopping him should be our only goal!" Xavier's blue eyes were brimming with a thirst for vengeance. "Let me inside the hotel madam, please, I have only gotten stronger since London and I know I could get him this time!"

Madam Quillfern leaned over and patted him on the shoulder. "London, yes, where you both were, and where he would instantly recognize you from." Xavier began to calm down as the reality set in. "We simply cannot go and get ourselves recognized, not when we have no idea how many Shadowers he's acquired since then. We need to know what we're up against; their size, the quickness of their powers—as now doubt they will show off some of their tricks in that private ballroom—we need to be there but without being seen."

"Like with invisibility cloaks?" Sheera asked, her question completely earnest. "I didn't see that in the spell book, but then again I've only deciphered the first spell." She sighed.

Everyone in the room stared at Sheera, attempting to hide their laughter while at the same time finding her endearing.

"Oh Sheera," Madam Quillfern said warmly, "this is not a story about a school of wizards, love it as we may!" She began to laugh which gave the others the green light to follow. As the laughter dissipated, the mood in the room seemed lighter, which seemed the perfect time for Sheera to learn about her first important mission.

Madam Quillfern gestured to Sheera. "You are the cloak that conceals us, Sheera. The eyes in the room that will collect the information and share it, the eyes that Gabriel Asher wouldn't recognize, as he didn't encounter you in London, or anywhere." She gestured to Luke. "Both of your eyes, that is."

With her mouth gaping open Sheera slowly turned to Luke; he didn't seem surprised at all.

***

After the meeting, Sheera stepped out of the study in a bit of a haze, a haze that accompanied her straight to the rooftop where she headed for some much needed air.

Once there on that crisp, cool night, the first thing she noticed was the glittering Eiffel Tower, which meant that it was somewhere between nine p.m. and five minutes past. She stared at the searchlight atop of the tower going round and round and round, but she couldn't bring herself to reminisce about that night, not with the shocking mission that had fallen in her lap.

Sheera heard the terrace door creaking open, and when she turned she wasn't surprised to see Luke; he stood there cautiously, waiting for her to say something before making an approach.

When remained silent he finally spoke. "I wasn't allowed to tell you anything before you were ready."

Her eyes widened. "I am far from ready."

"But you won't need any powers in there, that's the opposite of our purpose. The only advantage we'll need is being anonymous. And the skill to balance champagne and caviar on a tray." He smiled but her expression didn't soften. "And if you're at all worried, we'll have backup across the street."

Sheera abandoned her plot to ice him out for keeping her in the dark, and instead plopped into the nearest bistro chair. "It's not that I'm worried exactly, I'm just...confused." Sheera hadn't had enough experience in life to develop the skill of being aloof to guys in an attempt to seem cool. She'd seen it played out in high school, but she'd never been a natural and at the moment she didn't care. "So all that time you were hanging around— aside from just being my chaperone — it was all to just get used to me, because we had to do this secret mission?"

He grabbed the other bistro chair and dragged it to the spot across from her; it made a grating sound across the rooftop surface, until he finally settled on a spot and took a seat. "That time was honestly enjoyable, it truly was, but well...to more honest..." He looked away. "It was about building trust...and making sure you're comfortable around me too."

Sheera nodded, as the first few drops of grown up cynicism leaked into her soul. "So you were basically priming me for the mission."

He took her hands in his and even though it felt nice, she knew it wasn't for the reason she'd hoped. "We're going to be in a room with the most dangerous man in the world. Pretending to be people we're not. We need to watch each other and know each other's expressions, and keep things calm if something unexpected happens; can you do that with me?"

She nodded, as the nervousness for the fate of the world took over her cynical inklings. "I can do that."

***

Sheera managed to squeeze in a few more hours of studying before bed, and somehow all the symbols and spells and memorization had taken on a much bigger meaning. Everything in her life would now be described as "before the meeting in Madam Quillfern's office" and "after the meeting," because now she was officially 'in this,' an essential piece in the eventual plot to take down the man who would dare to take down humanity. She hadn't hated anyone before, but she was starting to hate Gabriel Asher, and maybe that was good thing.

She tucked into bed wrapped up in this new emotion, and as a sliver of a moonbeam escaped through the blinds and lit up a corner of the bulletin board, Sheera noticed that the photo of her mother and herself as a baby was at a bit of an angle now; it was probably because it was only being held by a single pin pushed into the top of the photo. She rose from her bed and straightened it, and as she did, she noticed it was a little further than the photo of her with the Lansens on Maddie's birthday. Hadn't she pinned them right next to each other? Orisa had probably just moved it when she'd pinned up her calendar. Sheera glanced back at Orisa who was sleeping soundly. She shrugged, put the photo back in its spot, and went back to bed.

***

The next afternoon, Sheera, Luke, Orisa and Arjun made their way through the neighborhood surrounding the Gare du Nord train station. Unless someone looked up at the Haussmann buildings it was easy to forget this was Paris; it was here where Little India met Little Africa, with street merchants, glittering Indian fabric shops, salons touting the finest weaves at the best prices, and a variety of hole-in-the-wall restaurants conjuring up the smells of pleasing spices.

Luke was the only minority in the crew who didn't seem to fit the neighborhood vibe, but he managed to stay inconspicuous enough to go unnoticed.

Arjun led them down a small side street, the end of which coincided with a dumpster and a chain-linked fence. Along the way there were two small restaurants, and Arjun casually strolled into the second one.

He greeted the grey-haired owner in Punjabi, shaking his hand like they were old friends from back home. Sheera glanced at the hastily scrawled menu on the board and recognized most of the food as the cuisine of Northern India. It was the region that her mother had hailed from, and the same food she had eaten the few times she'd been treated to her homeland cooking. She also recognized several of the Indian sweets in the display case, instantly remembering her tenth birthday when her mother had taken her to Jackson Heights, for a decadent array of low-priced desserts.

Arjun ordered at the counter for himself and Luke, then gestured to Orisa who knew exactly what she was doing. "Could I have the goat curry and rice with...one samosa on the side?"

"So you mean the usual," said the owner with a wink.

She laughed softly. "Well when something works..."

The owner's attention moved past her and over to Sheera. "A new customer!" He smiled. "We are blessed."

Sheera laughed. "I'll have the chana bhatura and a side of vegetable pakoras."

"You know your way around the Indian cuisine, ja?" He bobbed his head side to side in approval.

"A little bit," she said. "My mother is...was...Indian."

The owner bowed his head and said a little prayer.

When he was finished, Arjun thrust some euros into his hand. "Hurry up man we are going to faint from hunger!" he cried, trying his best to lighten the mood.

Luke was now sitting at one of the three basic tables with mismatched chairs and the others followed suit.

"I was going to pay," said Sheera, rifling through her purse for the money she'd converted into her hundred-and-fifty euro life savings.

Arjun waved her off. "Put it away," he said, before smiling at her for the first time. "My treat."

Sheera was surprised. "You're a lot nicer when you don't think I'm trying to hit on you."

They all laughed.

Once the laughter died down, Sheera leaned in for a serious question. "How come you and Orisa are regulars? I mean aren't you worried that..." she lowered her voice to a whisper, "that Gabriel Asher could find you when you're roaming around this busy neighborhood?"

The laughter resumed but it was only Arjun and Orisa this time.

"Him? Here?" Arjun shook his head. "No chance!"

"He is a man of five-star hotels and VIP access," added Orisa, "and for a man like that or his loyal followers to even breathe the same air as the immigrated and first-generation working class?" She raised her nose in the air in her finest attempt at snobbery. "Main non, ma Cherie, ce n'est pas possible."

"In other words we are safe here," said Arjun reassuringly.

Luke nodded firmly. "'A Madam Quillfern approved' offsite meeting for our mission," he said in a faux official voice. "But first..." he rubbed his stomach, "we need to eat."

***

As the meal slowed down to its coma-like conclusion, Arjun ordered chai for the table, and it soon arrived piping hot in matching steel cups.

"That was the best food I've ever eaten," said Luke with a satisfied smile.

"Even better than last week's stew that I made?" said Orisa pouting.

"The stew was definitely in the top one hundred." She punched him in the arm and laughed. "Ow!" He pretended to be in pain all while Sheera sat watching them flirt, her expression stoic and unconcerned with the fate of the world.

"Guys come on," said Arjun, pulling a folded paper out of his bag. "We need to start."

The familiar drawn out floor plan of Le Mettrice Hotel was now laid out on the table. Arjun started marking things with a pen. "Xavier will be here, two blocks away, and Orisa will be across the street , with the burner phone that connects to the tiny earpiece that the waiter will be wearing."

"Clement," said Orisa, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "His name is Clement." She noticed Luke's strange look and her expression grew more serious. "He is your lifeline in there; treat him with respect."

Luke raised his hands. "Why wouldn't I treat him with respect?"

Sheera continued to watch them with mounting suspicion.

"Clement will let you inside through the receiving entrance in the back. Your employment will have been explained to the staff as well as Gabriel, as some forced diversity initiative involving foreigners with a student visa who have experience in hospitality. A few sarcastic comments about centrist presidents will be made when you arrive I'm sure, but in the end it will allow you to head straight into the kitchen, pick up your trays of hors d'oeuvres, and enter the ballroom like this isn't your first time catering to the needs of aristocrats."

"And on that note..." Orisa pulled a folded paper out of her purse. "Here is the menu for Saturday with every ingredient listed underneath. Memorize it as if you were right in the kitchen helping compose the dishes."

Orisa handed Luke the list and Sheera leaned over to read it. "Truffle honey prosciutto what?" Sheera's education on cuisine from various cookbooks clearly hadn't extended to high-end French canapés.

"I will explain it to you later since we are roommates after all." She tossed a look to Luke. "And Xavier can answer any questions you might have."

Luke and Orisa's strange interaction continued to bristle at Sheera, but as she stared at the menu she remembered that a crucial mission was just two days away, and its success or failure very much relied on her not screwing it up. But what if she screwed it up?

"What happens if they find out who we are?" she blurted nervously. "And then trap us and kidnap us and who knows what?" She looked to Arjun for reassurance.

"There is no reason that should happen," he said with confidence, though the statement wasn't actually reassuring at all.

"But what if—?"

"If anything goes wrong Clement will alert us," Orisa said quickly. "But it should all be fine."

"Right," said Sheera, completely unconvinced. "I'm sure it won't get totally screwed up."

"The only thing that will screw it up will be if they notice you noticing their powers," Arjun declared.

"How would they notice..." her eyes widened. "Wait...they'll be using their powers and you're still letting us into that death trap?!"

"Well yes," said Arjun plainly. "That was mentioned in the meeting pretty clearly."

"I blocked it out!" Sheera hissed.

Arjun patted her on the shoulder awkwardly to lower her level of freak-out by at least a few notches. "We suspect they'll only use their powers for fun," he said. "Based on the fact that the Shadowers are sadistic show-offs."

Sheera guzzled her cooled down chai hoping it would calm her nerves. "Uh huh..."

With a lot more reassurance than Arjun, Luke squeezed her forearm with a firm hand and while it calmed her nerves, her expression dimmed when she realized it didn't mean anything more.

"Whatever they do," said Luke sounding confident, "the key is not to notice it. It'll be tempting believe me, with little lights zapping around, making people trip and fall without them noticing it, but just pretend you're serving food and don't see a thing."

"Okay," said Sheera nodding. "Because a regular person wouldn't be able to see it."

"Exactly right," confirmed Arjun. "The power of every spell is release in the fractions of the fractions of seconds between observable time. We overcome that with our Kindred abilities, but the regular person only bears witness to the aftermath."

"So don't act surprised by the utterly surprising." Sheera said as her tablemates nodded. "Sure, okay; hard could it be?"