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Demon Hour was approaching.

I stood in the shade beneath a rooftop balcony, watching the citizens of Kovass scurry through the streets like ants whose

nest had been poked with a stick. High overhead, Solasti, the first of the twin suns, blazed white against the cloudless blue

sky. Her identical sister, Namaia, had climbed over the horizon and was closing fast. Demon Hour, when both suns stood directly

overhead, twin gazes burning down like the glare of an angry goddess, happened every day. For one hour, every single afternoon

in the land of Arkyennah, the air singed throats when breathed in, the sands became molten, and every hard surface was turned

into a stovetop under the relentless glare of the suns. Animals fled to find shade or huddled beneath crude shelters. Merchants

closed their doors and covered their stalls. Commoners went inside to nap while the wealthiest nobles lounged in private pools

as servants fanned them with palm leaves. For one hour, Kovass turned into a dead city as every living creature, big and small,

young and old, poor and rich, found whatever shelter or shade or dark crack they could to wait out the hellish heat of the

twins.

Stepping back from the balcony, I took a deep breath, feeling the hot air fill my lungs, then let it out slowly.

Across the maze of flat white stone and gray tile rooftops, Namaia crept ever higher into the sky.

True Demon Hour wasn’t quite here, but the half hour that led up to it, with temperatures rising alongside panic and tension as everyone scurried to get things done, was probably the most hectic and chaotic time in Kovass.

It was also the perfect—and most awful—time to do anything you didn’t want people to see, which was why I was here, on this

balcony, instead of back home in familiar territory. This safehouse was closer to my destination, and the less time I spent

beneath the suns, the better.

“Is it time?”

I turned as a soft, raspy voice drifted into the room attached to the balcony. A hunched, robed figure shuffled up the stairs,

leaning heavily on a cane. Shadyr raised her cowled head, and her milky, nearly pure white eyes stared right through me.

“Not yet,” I said, equally softly. “Soon, though.”

“Hmm.” She walked across the room and paused just shy of where the rays of the sun drew a line across the balcony opening.

One withered hand reached out until the fingertips hit the edge of the sunlight. “Very soon, if you want to reach the Garden

District just before peak Demon Hour. I hope you are dressed appropriately.”

I glanced past her head to the wall, where a cracked mirror hung above a dresser by the bed.

The girl staring back at me was thin and unremarkable.

Brown hair, brown eyes, and a face that was completely forgettable.

Not that anyone ever saw it. My hood always stayed up, and my clothes were in light, neutral tones that the eye could easily pass over.

In a city of limestone walls, bleached rooftops, and dusty, sun-scoured roads, dark clothes would be miserable and bright colors would stand out.

Which, in my line of work, was the opposite of what you wanted.

I was good at what I did because I blended in and became invisible.

“Of course, Shadyr,” I told her. “When am I not prepared?”

She withdrew her arm, the hand vanishing into her robes again. “Odd that you’re working alone,” she mused. “Where is Jeran?

I thought the two of you were inseparable when it came to jobs.”

“Not today.” I shrugged, though she couldn’t see the motion. “Vahn was insistent that I do this one alone. It’s fine, though.”

I gazed across the rooftops again, squinting in the gleaming brightness. “I don’t need Jeran. I work better solo, anyway.”

Though he wouldn’t be pleased to hear me say that. Jeran was a year older than me; tall, lanky, with dark hair and a halfway charming

smile. He was good at what he did, just not as good as me, and we both knew it.

“Well, don’t get too cocky.” Shadyr patted my arm. “I remember my days with the guild, before my eyes started failing me.

It was always better to have someone guarding your back to keep a watch for the patrols. Especially in the Garden District.

Twice as many guards there as here.”

I snorted. “Yes, and they’ll all be under their little guard cupolas throwing dice,” I said. “Even if they do see something,

I doubt they’ll go rushing out in the middle of Demon Hour to chase it down. But don’t worry.” I smiled at the old woman,

knowing she would hear it in my voice. “They won’t see me. They never do.”

“You tempt Fate, little Sparrow,” Shadyr warned.

“You think you can do everything alone, but that is not the way of things. I know.” She patted my arm again.

“I know what the guild wants you to believe. But sometimes, you have to put your trust in something other than yourself. What do the teachings say? Our threads are all woven in the Tapestry of the World. Together, nothing can break them, but a single strand is weak and easily severed.”

I felt a chill in the small, warm room. Shadyr couldn’t know what I was doing, could she? No, of course not. I hadn’t told

anyone about this job. It was just a coincidence that she had brought up the Tapestry of the World.

I stepped back and grinned. “Well, a single strand may be weak,” I said, “but it’s a lot more flexible with no other threads

tangling it up and holding it back.”

She huffed at me, as if I had missed the point, and shook her head. “Namaia continues to rise,” she went on. “Are you ready?”

Quickly, I ran through a mental checklist, making sure I had everything I needed. Supple but tough leather boots for running

over rooftops. Leather gloves for grasping superheated stones and metal railings. The tools of my trade, tucked safely away

in hidden pockets. A pair of daggers on my hips and a concealed knife in my boot. And a waterskin to combat the fiery glare

of the twins. I hadn’t forgotten anything. It was time to get on with it and see what Fate had in store for me this day.

I pulled up my white hood, hiding my features from view, then turned to Shadyr. “I’m ready.”

She nodded once. “Will you be returning here when the job is done?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll go straight back to the guild. Vahn is expecting me.”

“Very well. Tell the old desert weasel I said hello.” Shadyr smiled and shuffled back a few steps, milky eyes gazing through

me into the sky. “May Fate smile upon you, little Sparrow.”

“And on you, Shadyr.”

I stepped back onto the balcony and paused just beneath the overhang, gazing out at the city. My task was difficult, but if

I timed this correctly, I would reach my destination just as peak Demon Hour was upon the world. If I got it wrong... well,

it was going to be unpleasant either way.

The air above the rooftops was already shimmering. At the balcony’s edge, I took a last breath of marginally cooler air, then

hopped onto the railing and launched myself into open sky.

The heat of the twins, searing and relentless, hit me as I soared over the street, catching fleeting glimpses of the people

below. No one looked up. Looking up invited the full glare of the twins upon your face. Gazes remained down, cowls, hoods,

and shawls pulled low as the citizens of Kovass scurried to hide from the suns. No one saw a figure in white soar above the

narrow space between the rooftops and land on the other side.

As soon as my boots hit the stones, I started to sprint. The “thieves highway” spread out before me, an endless collection

of flat stone walls, tile rooftops, domed ceilings, and the occasional temple spire jutting upward toward the suns.

I paused beneath the shade of a small, covered rooftop garden to catch my breath.

It was now so close to Demon Hour that the heat radiating from the stones and rooftops was almost as bad as the rays of the suns.

In my tunic, I found the waterskin tucked close to my body and pulled it out.

It was small, holding just a few swallows, but that would be enough to keep me going.

I could probably make it to my destination and back without drinking, but in Demon Hour, I wasn’t taking chances.

As Vahn always said, Almost everything can be challenged, almost every rule has a way around it.

Except the twins. Do not fight them—they will win every

time.

The water was lukewarm, but it still cooled my throat and moistened my lips, which had gone dry from breathing the scalding

desert air. Leaning against a wooden post, I contemplated the journey still to come. The rooftop garden, with its latticed

roof and sheer white curtains, provided just enough shelter for me to escape the pounding rays of the suns, but it was still

unbearably hot. Sweat ran down my neck and trickled into my eyes, the burn of salt making me blink and rub a sleeve across

my face.

And then, across the shimmering rooftops, I saw a figure. Dressed in light colors and a hood like me, they crouched atop a

distant tower, watching the crowds below. They were so still that aside from the clothes and familiar hood, they might’ve

been a statue. One of the protector beasts that adorned the walls and roofs of the temples. I stared in shock, wondering who

else would be crazy enough to be out in Demon Hour. No one from the guild would risk it; I knew that for a fact. So who was this?

Another bead of sweat ran into my eye, making me squint and swipe at my face again. When I looked up, the figure was gone.

Okay. Maybe I’m seeing things. Crazy heat mirages. I guess I am the only one foolish enough to be outside right now.

Regardless, I had work to do. Peak Demon Hour was just a few minutes away, and I still had to get to my target. Tucking my waterskin beneath my clothes, I set my jaw and then slipped into the sunlight once more.