CALLIOPE LEANED FORWARD on the vanity, which was littered with gleaming silver beauty wands and spray powders and a fresh manicolor mitt—all of it arrayed carefully before her, like weapons polished and laid out for battle. Her own lethal tools, which had always made her so dangerously beautiful.
“You ready?” her mom called out from the other room of their suite.
Calliope had been unsurprised that her mom had decided to come to the Mirrors launch party after all. Like her daughter, she had an incurable weakness for anything bright and glittering and extravagant—and tonight promised to be all those things. She and Calliope had been acting chipper and normal all week, but Calliope sensed that something was unresolved beneath the surface. Things had been weird between them ever since their fight.
Still, here they were, in a suite that Nadav had booked for them at the Fanaa, the gorgeous luxury hotel in the dark half of The Mirrors. The Fullers’ rooms were in the other tower, but Calliope had insisted on staying here; there was something seductive, almost forbidden, about saying one was on the dark side. She glanced around at the walls, which were lined entirely with mirrored screens. Calliope could have switched them to opaque, of course; but she left them on, enjoying the sight of her reflected selves swishing pleasantly about the room.
“I’m ready. Atlas should be here any minute now,” Calliope replied. He would need to head down early, as the host.
The entire day had been one long tribute to excess and indulgence. Calliope had ridden over with the Fullers on their private jet, which wasn’t exactly private, given that dozens of other people had been invited to catch a ride on it, all of them walking around the plane and chatting and clutching glasses of champagne as if the flight itself was just one big cocktail party, a logical prelude to the night to come. Maybe that had been the intent all along.
Elise leaned in the doorway, showing off her delicate white dress, which made her look intentionally bridal. “What do you think?”
“Amazing. What about me?” Calliope turned back and forth in a model-esque pose. Her long hair was gathered into a low bun, emphasizing the glamorous length of her neck; and her sparkling black gown clung to her with an almost shocking closeness. She relished the way the silk faille felt against her bare skin—like a seductive whisper in her ear, assuring her that she was young and beautiful and rare.
Elise came forward and took her daughter’s hands. “You know that you look stunning. Have an incredible time tonight, darling. You deserve it.” Her voice rang with an unusual sentimentality, and she was smiling at Calliope in an odd way, as if she was trying to make up her mind about something. “You like this boy, don’t you? Not just to con, but for real?”
Calliope was caught off guard. “I like him fine,” she answered, fighting the twist of guilt she felt at the thought of stealing from Atlas tonight. He was a good person, though admittedly a little tortured and confusing. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to go elope with him anytime soon,” she added jokingly.
Elise didn’t laugh. “And you like New York?”
Calliope turned toward the mirror, pretending to retouch her lips so she wouldn’t have to look directly into her mom’s eyes. It was easier to lie to people when you didn’t have to see them face-to-face.
“New York has been fun, but it’s time we moved on. I’m glad we’re going out with a bang,” Calliope said firmly, ignoring the way her chest constricted at the thought of leaving. Her mom met her eyes in the mirror, and Calliope smiled at her reflection.
A knock sounded at the front door. “That’s probably Atlas,” Calliope said.
“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“In other words, go crazy?” Calliope called out, and pulled the door open.
Atlas stood there in a simple black tux, looking more elegant and grown-up than Calliope had ever seen him. He’d cut his hair, she realized, but left the slightest shadow of stubble along his jawline.
“You look amazing.” Atlas held out an arm to lead her down the hall.
“You clean up okay yourself,” she told him.
He smiled, revealing that small dimple on one corner of his mouth. “Thanks for coming with me tonight, Callie.”
They turned down a hallway that dead-ended into a window, looking directly across at the light tower. The waters of the canal churned far below them. “Do you mind if we stop by my parents’ first?” he asked. “They wanted us to meet there and all head to the party together.”
“Of course.” Atlas’s parents hadn’t been on the plane earlier—they’d flown over a few days earlier, to help set everything up. And Calliope had to admit that she was curious to finally meet the famous Fullers.
She expected Atlas to turn toward an elevator, but instead he stepped forward to the window and traced a circle on it. The flexiglass immediately shifted, shooting a clear tunnel across the empty sky as easily as if it were a beam of light.
Calliope was shocked into silence. She briefly wondered if the tunnel was a hologram—if this was some kind of virtual reality game, to test her willingness of disbelief—but a glance at Atlas’s proud face confirmed that it was, in fact, real.
“Etherium,” he explained. Calliope had heard about the programmable material, which used linear induction and carbon mesh to quickly build and un-build structures for the military, usually on-demand bridges needed for only a few minutes at a time.
“I see,” she replied, in an almost careless tone, as if she’d seen instant-construction bridges dozens of times and could hardly be called upon to seem impressed now.
“We got the first civilian license for it. Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy.” Atlas sounded proud. Calliope realized with a start that he’d actually done this himself, had been the one to ping and persuade and make it happen.
“And here I was wondering what you did at your desk all day,” she teased, though she felt uncharacteristically proud of him too. She took a bold step forward, her stiletto landing emphatically on the bridge, and willed herself not to look down at the thin, flimsy layer of material separating her designer shoe from the vast distance below.
“You’re not afraid of it,” Atlas remarked approvingly.
Calliope turned to glance back at him over one arched shoulder. Her expression was almost a dare. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
As they emerged on the other side and the tunnel blinked back out of existence, Calliope felt a little shiver of adrenaline. There was something about crossing the sky in a temporary tunnel that felt like a good omen, like everything that happened tonight would go her way.