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‘Guess we’ll find out.’

Their footsteps were quiet. As soon as they were out of earshot, I ran to the elevator. Steeling my nerves, I hit the key for the ground floor and waited, sweat prickling under my shirt.

The elevator glided down. As soon as the doors opened, I knew I had made my first mistake of the evening.

A woman stood behind an illuminated desk. Twelve other people were stationed in the foyer, mostly built like houses. As I froze, the nearest saw me, his expression stiffening. I pounded the key for the highest floor.

‘Ms Mahoney,’ the stranger barked, running at me. ‘Wait a moment—’ The doors closed just in time, muffling the next command: ‘Take the stairs! Do not let her leave!’

What in the Scion Republic of Fuck is happening?

I was not going anywhere with a group of armed strangers. When the elevator stopped, I rushed past an elderly woman and went for the nearest window, only for it to stick on a safety latch. Gritting my teeth, I detached a fire extinguisher from its bracket and punched it through the glass.

By the time my pursuers caught up, I was inching along a ledge, clinging to whatever fingerholds I could find. My hands were already starting to hurt, but if I could just get to the roof …

A click stopped me dead. I locked eyes with the man from the foyer, now aiming a pistol at me from the window. He had olive skin and black hair, slicked back from his well-boned face.

‘Easy,’ he said. ‘Stay where you are.’ He reached into his jacket. ‘Are you Paige Eva Mahoney?’

‘Who’s asking?’

‘Steve Mun. Atlantic Intelligence Bureau.’ He showed me a badge that probably meant something to someone, somewhere. ‘I have orders to get you to safety, out of reach of Inquisitor Weaver.’

‘I’m out of his reach now. And it might help me feel a touch safer if you lowered your gun, Steve.’

People on the street were staring up at us, keeping away from the broken glass. A woman held a silver phone up. Mun glanced at thecrowd, his jaw clenching.

‘All right.’ He holstered the pistol. ‘Take my hand, and we can talk.’

He held it out, showing a starched white cuff.

I did not believe for one moment that Steve Mun wanted a polite conversation. Craning my neck, I looked down the street, searching for a way out. I couldn’t use my gift on him without losing control of my body, and the fall would break a few bones from this height.

The rumble of an engine drew my eye. I allowed myself a grim smile.

‘If you think there’s a safe place for me,’ I said to Mun, ‘you really don’t know who I am.’

The amnesia had not stolen my training. As Mun made a grab for me, I launched myself back and landed on the lorry, the impact shuddering up through my knees to rattle my hips. The driver braked, but by the time he got out, I was on the ground and sprinting in the other direction, away from the three black cars outside the hotel.

I ran through the bustling streets of a city I had never seen, taunted by its amber streetlamps. Still no obvious clue where I was. I cleared some tramlines and skirted the edge of a shopping centre. Entering it might help me lose my pursuers, but there might be security cameras or guards. I kept going.

On the other side of the building, I found a row of bus stops, where people were stepping on to a coach. This was my chance. Holding my nerve, I slowed down and joined the back of the group.

‘Hello,’ I said to the driver, a grizzled amaurotic. ‘Are there any seats available?’

He eyed me. ‘You have a ticket?’

‘No. Could I buy one?’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’ll … ride the whole way, if I could.’ I offered the creased banknote. ‘Is this enough?’

‘No change.’

I nodded, and he took the only money I had. As the doors hissed shut and the coach pulled away from the curb, I sat at the back and glanced through the rear window, seeing one of theblack cars speed past, none the wiser that their target had just slipped the net.

As the coach left the city, I scarfed down a chocolate bar from the hotel and managed a few swallows of water, keeping my hood up and my face turned away from the other passengers. It occurred to me that I should have looked harder at the banknote, which might have told me where I was. Now I had no money, and still no sense of where in the world I had woken up.