From my perch atop a flat adobe roof, I surveyed a vast beach. Hundreds of Tidewalkers had gathered there. They lined up in rows, stretching arms and legs, some jogging in place with tails swishing. The crowd was so dense and expansive, I couldn't tell if Rosamae was among them.

  A faint ache passed through my heart. Had she found another teammate? Was she searching for me? Had she ever been looking for me? I shook my head. Whatever. Midnight was three or four hours away, and then I'd never see her again.

  I let out a shaky breath, gripping the railing as I shifted my gaze from the competitors to the sparkling sea. It reflected the setting sun. The star’s orange glow was gentler than Earth's, easier to look at directly. I tried to let its soothing light calm my nerves, but I couldn't stop trembling. I flexed fingers and toes, my hands and feet cold as ice. If I messed this up, if I didn't make it into that shrine, the punishment would be severe—imprisonment for life, or worse. Execution.

  Casting a glance toward that towering conch shell, I considered getting closer. But as I looked from one crowded roof to another, I bit my lip. The streets below were crowded too… But still, I needed to move. The closer the better, especially since my current spot was getting a bit too cozy. A quick check over my shoulder revealed three or four more people climbing the ladder, laughing and embracing.

  I stiffened at a familiar face—the guildmaster, patting his large belly and letting out a booming laugh. As I spun away, my mask shifted, reminding me I was safe from prying eyes. Good thing, too. I hadn't attended the guild all week, and recognition would mean questions and lectures I didn't have time for.

  A loud clack-clack-clack drew my attention down to Gripjaw scaling the wall. He reached the railing with quick, precise movements, making swift clicking sounds. I stroked his carapace, feeling the cracks along the center of his back. A warm feeling blossomed in my chest, followed by a twist of guilt. Besides Rosamae, he'd been my only real friend here—well, and that girl from the gardens. Her subtle warnings about tonight left a gnawing concern in the back of my mind.

  But so far, everything looked normal. Children ran through sandy streets below, people gathered on rooftops, nothing seemed out of place. I couldn't worry about it now, anyway. I was leaving this world behind—and good residence! After witnessing the murder of that man, and his sudden reapearance, I wanted nothing but to get out of here.

  Gripjaw clicked again, nodding toward a building. I'd sent him to scout locations closer to the spire, somewhere less crowded.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Take me there," I whispered. He scuttled down the wall as I swung over the railing, falling through the air then dropping into a crouch on the sand. I weaved past children holding crackling balls of light like endless fireworks, playing chase through the streets.

  Gripjaw led me through an avenue lined with booths made of painted sail-parchment. Spicy scents wafted up, reminiscent of an Indian restaurant I'd frequented back home—first place I'd visit when I returned. The crowd thickened, but I pressed on, gently shoving past with murmured apologies. One man leapt away when I brushed his shoulder, wiping it as if contaminated.

  After a dozen streets, Gripjaw scaled another white adobe wall, humming loudly. The street's far end opened onto the plaza and that spiraling shrine. Perfect spot, though the roof worried me—packed with Tidewalkers like sardines. Maybe it’d be best if I hung out here. I circled the building, trying to find a spot away from as many street-goers as possible.

  The sun had vanished, but fan-like shells along white facades began to illuminate, radiant spheres glowing between them and the adobe. They lit one by one, taking their time to brighten the growing dark.

  I passed a shadowy alley where a lone figure in glinting armor strode away—the first soldier I'd seen tonight. The sight made my chest clench. I almost hurried past, but movement caught my eye. A cloaked shadwy figure seemed to rise from the sand itself, grains cascading off their body as they stalked toward the guard.

  My muscles locked, brow furrowing in confusion. An explosion rocked the air as fireworks burst overhead, the crowd roaring in delight. My heart pounded, ears ringing as I looked back to see the figure lunging at the guard, wrapping arms around his neck.

  Memory flashed—running through NeuroSync’s halls, someone jumping from a doorway, wrapping arms around my neck, pulling me to the floor, choking me.

  Another firework sounded—the crack reminding me of the gunshot that followed.

  "NO!” The scream tore from my throat as I sprinted across the dark street. The crowd's shouts and exploding fireworks drowned all other sound. I activated hydrokinesis, water pushing from my skin to form around my clenched fist. With a throat-shredding shout, I slammed my aqueous fist into the back of the attacker's head.

  Crack.

  The attacker shouted as the soldier lost his balance. We all went down in a tangle of limbs, me rolling clear and scrambling to my feet. The cloaked figure stirred as the guard pushed up on his arms.

  "Are you okay?" I shouted, barely hearing myself. I crouched to help him, then froze. A knife jutted from his neck, his eyes bulging as blood pooled in his gaping mouth and dripped down his scales. His hand shook as he reached for the blade.

  Another explosion lit the street, revealing three more cloaked figures rising from the sand. A horrified shout burst from my mouth as I staggered back. Something hard crashed against my head. I staggered, vision spinning as sand rushed up to meet me.

  The last thing I saw, illuminated by another firework's flash, was a hooded figure in a white polished mask with a deep, sparkling purple swirl.