I shouldn't feel this nervous riding the elevator up to Tabitha's apartment building. This is my fifth time coming here. Anyone who spots me shouldn't think anything of it.

Yet my palms are slick with sweat, and my grip on my purse threatens to release at any moment.

The elevator doors part, and I'm faced with a clock mounted on the wall. Two hands point to the time: fifteen minutes past two o'clock. I have an hour and a half to find the fish. Sounds easy, right?

Except the fish could be anywhere. She might've already disposed of it for all I know, flushed it down the toilet Finding Nemo-style. I take a deep breath to try to calm my nerves.

Don't panic. It isn't time to panic — yet.

I stop outside Tabitha's door. I open my purse, trying to not appear too suspicious while I rifle through it. Inside the house-breaking kit, there's a few metal picks, one slender with a slight curve on the end, a pick with jagged teeth, and a skinny L-shaped one. My eyes sweep the hallway. It's empty, but that doesn't stop my nerves from being on edge.

Removing the jagged pick, the rake, as the lock-picking article I read in the car called it, I insert inside the lock. I push the rake to the back of the lock, then gently raise it. Just as the article said, I begin scrubbing back and forth more rapidly for a few seconds. The gears in the lock make a soft clicking sound, loosening a little more each time until the lock mechanism is tripped.

The lock clicks into place. I turn the handle and rush into Tabitha's apartment. A single lamp is turned on by the window, enabling me to take in the living room and dining room. I drop the pick back into my purse and begin my search.

I feel like an idiot lifting up couch cushions to find a fish, but I'm not going to leave one place unchecked. After checking under tables and in the hall closet, I walk through a doorway into the kitchen. She has several cabinets full of fine china, though more every day, ceramic-ware is drying in her dishwasher. My stomach growls when I open her fridge, which is full of fresh vegetables, fruits, and a few packages of raw halibut, lobster, and venison. Pickled vegetables, condiments, and expensive-looking pasta noodles reside in her pantry.

There's still no angelfish. I exit the kitchen, my gaze drifting up the staircase to a line of three doors. With a sigh, I bound up the steps, my flats pattering on the wood. My hand closes around the first doorknob, and the hinges squeal open. I feel for the light switch and flick it on, casting away the darkness that crowded the space.

A queen-sized bed is pressed against the back wall, covered in a shiny, rose-gold comforter with purple embroidery around the edges. Velvet pillows are piled atop it in various shapes and sizes: some small and round, others square or triangular. The bed is flanked by glossy, white tables on either side, each bearing a lamp, and a vanity table stretches on the left wall, complete with a velvet-cushioned chair and large, rounded mirror.

It looks like a room out of a magazine. I'm almost afraid to taint it, but I must find the fish. My life depends on it. I start by opening the drawers of her bedside table. Letters and papers are neatly stacked inside, and I try not to read any of the writing on them. Next, I search the area by the vanity, then open her closet. It's somehow even more massive than mine, but I pick through each evening gown, each silken shirt and trouser, each flowing suit.

Frustration wells inside me. Tears prick at my eyes as I move faster and faster. It'll take all night to search this place! I steal a glance at the clock above Tabitha's bed. It's after three in the morning. I only have another forty minutes until I need to join Saige in the car. It may seem like a lot of time, except I've already spent an hour looking. I still have two more rooms to go.

There is no fish in the back of her closet. Defeated, I run back into Tabitha's room. My vision is blurry with tears as I scan the space. I bend down, peering under her bed. A wooden object is lodged underneath it with strings running across it. It reminds me of a harp.

My brow furrows. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I tug it out from under the bed. I pull back my hands as soon as the light hits it. Delicate webs spin their way across the wooden frame, forming an intricate design. The eerie lines and circles almost remind me of a human face. Thicker webs trace the perimeter, forming a rounded jaw. Webbing dips where the cheeks would've been, giving the illusion of a slender face, and vacant spots form two eyes and full lips.

I brush away tears from my eyes, still staring at the piece. It's the oddest thing I ever saw, both beautiful and disturbing at the same time.

"Lovely, wasn't she?"

Frost freezes in my veins. I swallow, looking up at the woman standing in the doorway. Tabitha smiles at me, an unreadable glint in her eyes.

"I-I don't know what you mean."

Tabitha arches an eyebrow. "You were admiring my artwork, correct?"

"C-certainly."

"Well, far be it for me to interrupt someone's... contemplation." She flicks her fingers in my direction. "Go ahead. Admire away."

I glance down at the face again. "W-why are there webs?"

Tabitha laughs. "Oh my dear, you'll know when it's your time. So take your last glimpses, soak it all in, and then we'll get to work."

"Work?"

"Work."

I swallow. "You have another job for me? I-I'm ready for it."

Tabitha shakes her head. "I have a policy to never employ people who are too curious. And unfortunately, you have become too curious."

My head begins to shake. "N-no I haven't."

"Oh really? How else do you explain breaking into my apartment and sneaking into my bedroom while I'm away? I did tell you I was away, right?"

"T-there was a man." My voice shakes, but I try to summon the words. I have to make her understand that I didn't want any of this. I never wanted part of whatever strange activity she's involved in. "He broke into my apartment and threatened me. He said he'd kill me if I didn't retrieve the fish."

"Ah, the fish. Of course." Tabitha crosses the room and plops into the vanity chair. She kicks off her heels inches from me. "It all comes back to that little string of power."

"String of power?"

"Yes. Right here, in fact." She reaches under the cushion on the vanity, removing a slender, coiled wire.

I gawk at it. "That was in the fish?"

"It was."

"But how?"

Tabitha shrugs, her powder-blue evening gown rippling from the motion. "It must have swallowed it." She crosses her legs, shifting the split in her dress to halfway up her leg. "So, this man demanded you get the fish back?"

"Yes. He gave me four hours to bring it to him. If I didn't have the fish, he said he'd kill me. And if I don't return... he'll hunt me down."

Tabitha laughs. "Of course he will."

"But why?" I exclaim. All the questions from the past week bubble to the surface, exploding outward along with tears from my eyes. "Why is all this happening? Who cares about a stupid fish and a wire?"

"It's not just any wire," Tabitha says, stroking the coil with her thumb. "It's part of something much, much greater." She looks at me thoughtfully. "Ever heard of the bloodlines?" I shake my head. "The bloodlines originate from the ancient times, when humans and creatures shared their lives in harmony."

"You mean creation?"

Tabitha frowns. "No, the ancient times. Ancient Wacairyn." My brow creases, and Tabitha grows more agitated. "Wacairyn, the kingdom of Wacairyn!"

"I've... never heard of it."

Tabitha sighs in frustration. "What are they teaching in schools these days? Well, basically elemental creatures bestowed parts of their gifts to nine humans. These powers were passed down through generations, enabling all bloodline descendants to utilize these abilities. As centuries dragged by, every bloodline built an artifact imbued with their powers, enabling any person not descended from the bloodline to wield said power."

"Is that your family's artifact?" I ask, nodding to the webs on the ground.

"Yes. It's called a poison loom." My eyes shoot open, and I scoot away from it. Tabitha continues, unbothered. "In recent times, around the turn of the seventeenth century, several of the bloodlines determined that their powers were too great to be carried around in a single artifact. They were frightened by growing upheaval, such as during the French Revolution, and decided that they couldn't allow their artifacts to fall into the wrong hands. Thus, they broke their artifacts into pieces and scattered them throughout the world." Sensing the confusion on my face, Tabitha adds, "my family decided to keep our loom intact."

My mind tries to puzzle this all together. "So, what you're saying is that people are trying to reassemble these artifacts." And gain the powers they'll bestow.

"Yes, that would be The Symphonic Order." Tabitha gives a shake of her head. "Troublesome fellows. Probably the man who visited you tonight was sent by them."

Shivers run down my spine. "And you're trying to get to the pieces first."

"Correct again! You pick up fast. That last girl didn't have a clue as to what was really going on. Shame you'll no longer be working for me."

My mouth goes dry. Kylie. "Y-you're firing me?"

"Not quite." Tabitha lifts the loom. "It'll be nice to have a live muse for a change." Her long fingers dig into the web. The delicate strands tear away from the sides, and she flicks them into the trash can under the vanity table. "It's been nice knowing you, Cleo."

White webs sprout from Tabitha's fingertips. With expert precision, she weaves them into the outline of a face, the same shape as mine.

"Wait!" I exclaim. "I can help you."

"Don't distract me!" Tabitha chides. "It takes careful intention as well as your picture for the poison in the web to take effect."

"But I can! I'll help you get more artifacts! I mean, I don't want those things falling into the wrong hands, either. Please, I promise I'll do whatever you want."

A smile edges Tabitha's lips. "Sorry, Cleo. But I don't take chances. My first employee actually called the police on me. I had to move cities because of him. The moment someone exhibits even the slightest suspicious behavior, they're done for."

"You need someone to help you achieve your plans, right? Isn't it much easier if the person you use knows of your plans and will still help you?"

Tabitha's fingers pause. My stomach roils at the sight of the strings hanging from her skin, all twisted up as she continues her weave. "That is a good point. But anyone can promise anything. And like I said, I don't take chances."

"I will prove my loyalty to you. I'll do whatever it takes."

Tabitha's jaws shifts in thought. "Whatever it takes?" I nod. "You'll pay whatever cost?" I nod, more slowly this time. Tabitha sets the loom down. "Perhaps I can offer you a little test. A loyalty test, if you will."

"Sure. Anything." Anything to not die.

"You can accompany me on an errand I've been meaning to do." Tabitha's eyes glitter with mischief. "I've always wanted to see what goodies lie inside the order's vault."

I swallow. "Sure."

"Splendid. We leave tonight." Tabitha leaps up from her chair, headed for her closet.

Anxiety prickles at my skin. My world feels unsteady, about to crumble at any moment, sending me six-feet under. So many thoughts flash through my mind: Saige, the man at my apartment, the police, when they catch us.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. Oh, gosh. What have I gotten myself into?

"What about the man from my apartment?" I ask. "He's waiting for the fish."

"Can you describe him to me?"

"Yes."

"Then don't worry about it." Tabitha pokes her head out from her closet. "I can take care of him—" She snaps her fingers. "— like that."

My eyes fall on the loom, now lying on her vanity table. Chills creep down my spine. "Will the order come after me?"

"Probably. But as long as you're with me, you don't have to be concerned. They've been after me for years."

"But... my apartment. Won't they be watching it? Won't they hunt me down, even if you... take care of the guy who's there? Surely he's reported my location to them."

"You're not going back to that apartment," Tabitha says, hauling a giant suitcase onto her bed. The comforter doesn't even crinkle. "You're not leaving my sight for the foreseeable future."

Fear must paralyze my face because she chuckles. "Don't worry. I can scrounge up a new wardrobe for you."