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The embers grew brighter as I inhaled the final drag from my cigarette and then flicked it to the ground, stomping on it as if it were a spider.
My time was running out and if I failed, well I couldn’t think of the consequences right now
I needed to find a motor vehicle. But with the city, in the throes of St. Vitus Day, everyone would be busy getting ready for the day’s festivities—taxi drivers included.
I kicked the curb and let out a curse. I needed to keep my mind clear, but that was become difficult when I could feel the anger and frustration boiling inside. Why in the hell would he do this to me? I thought. Normally, I wouldn’t dream of questioning the boss’s judgment and in all fairness this was probably the best he could have done on such short notice. But from where I stood, it didn’t feel very fair. I mean he did stick me in the residential area of the city instead of the town’s center, which, by the way, is nowhere near my mission location not to mention there isn’t a soul in sight.

My plan for now was to just start walking. Surely I would eventually run into someone that could give me directions and maybe a lift to the center of town. But when the sweat starts rolling down my back like a sticky sheet, I realized no one in their right mind would be out for a casual stroll in 104 degree weather. Hell, I didn’t particularly want to be out in this inferno.
I shielded my eyes as I peered down the street. Almost a mile ahead, I could just make out the outline of a small neighborhood park. The park entrance seemed like an inviting oasis of cool green shade from the handful of trees that dotted the sprawling lawn area. But one tree in particular caught my interest; a massive weeping willow tree with deep branches sat perched front and center. If I ran, it would only take a minute to reach the tree and its cocoon like respite. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching me and with no one in sight, I ran.
Once I reached the tree, I eagerly knelt under the massive branches and crawled inside. The wispy green leaves chimed and danced in the cool air like delicate bells. The sound sent soft shivers down my arm and made me yearn for home. I leaned my back up against the tree trunk for support. “Ugh.” I said in disgust as I feel the sweat press out of my shirt and drip on the parched soil.
I looked down at my clothing and laughed. I think I could have gone without the traditional black today.
I pulled out a leather band from my shirt pocket and groped my water logged tresses in one hand while I tied the whole soggy mess back off my face. I laughed again, hysteria on the tip of my tongue, as I began to realize how bad my situation had become.
I took a deep breath of the cool air, just like we were taught back at the academy, and concentrated on my last conversation I had with the boss. I closed my eyes and drifted back in my memory.

I knocked softly on the boss’s office door and waited for his invitation. When no response came, I pushed the door open and stood nervously in the doorway.
Even after a year here at the academy, I still felt as nervous and unsure as I did when I first walked in here.
“Come in Pindara,” the boss responded as if he were whispering. His warm baritone voice usually comforted me, but something seemed off today.
“You needed to see me?” I asked my voice weak and unsure. We don’t often meet with the boss alone.
“Yes, thank you for coming so quickly.” He motioned to the chair across from him. “Please sit. We have little time for pleasantries today I’m afraid,” he informed me while he scrutinized the books and papers that littered his desk.
Now I felt certain he had bad news. Naturally, I wanted to avoid the unpleasant report. I walked slowly towards his desk allowing myself time to soak up the calming rich colors from the art and tapestries that filled his office. I was stalling—obviously. But when the steps ran out, I finally had to take my place opposite his large captain’s desk. The boss’s office, decorated with some of the finest antiques from England, is calm and pleasant; too bad most of our business here was anything but.
I could taste the anticipation in the air while I watched my boss push around his paperwork and organized them into stacks, sort his pens and pencils and search through one of the stacks on his desk until he found an oversized yellow envelope. He carefully pulled the envelope from the stacks and slowly pushed it towards me. “Pindara, I’m sending you to Sarajevo tomorrow.” His eyes barely meet mine as he gave his orders.
I pulled back abruptly. I watched as the envelope slipped from my numb fingers and fell on the desk top with a thud. My eyebrows knitted together, expressing the question I could not articulate. What gives? A day wasn’t much notice to prepare for a mission, and he knew it. Dumfounded, I shook my head, hoping to clear my brain of the troubling thoughts. “What’s wrong in Sarajevo sir?” I finally asked once I managed to swallow the lump in my throat.
“There are some damn foolish things happening in the Balkans,” he replied as he got up from his desk. He wrung his hands together as he walked over to the wall mounted maps and pulled down a map of Eastern Europe. “Otherkin assassins have been dispatched and their target is the Archduke Ferdinand,” he continued as he pointed to the city of Bosnia. “I’m sending you to stop it. If they succeed in their assassination, their actions will trigger and great war, one in which we could see millions perish.” He turned away from the map. His face looked seriously grim.
I squirmed in my seat as I let out an incredulous huff. At times the boss could be a bit overly dramatic, but most of the time his theatrics were justified.
The boss continued his briefing as if he hadn’t noticed my nervous outburst. I tried to follow along as I pulled out a large map from my assignment envelope and unfolded it across my lap. My eyes were instantly drawn to a thick red line that traced a main route through the city. I traced my finger along the path, pausing on six red Xs and stopping on the large D over the town hall. It would appear that the final destination would be the town hall, but I didn’t understand what the six Xs represented. “Sir,” I interrupted him as I turned the map toward him, “what are the Xs for?”
“Based on the motorcade’s route and the surrounding terrain, those are the most likely locations for the Otherkin assassins,” he stated dryly as he returned to his desk, reached into his tobacco box and pulled out his pipe.
“Six. Otherkin. Assassins.” I spluttered. I found it hard to believe that the demons could gather six Otherkins. “That can’t be.” But I know it could be, it just wouldn’t be easy. “Why?” I ask even though I know why a demon would want to use Otherkins to do their bidding. A demon can’t just walk unnoticed in a crowd. And although Otherkins didn’t look human to soul trackers, they were still human enough that they could walk undetected amongst humans.
But Otherkins are volatile and problematic. If the demons went through the effort to gather six Otherkins then they had begun a monumental undertaking.
“Pindara, I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but you must do everything within your power to stop this. You cannot allow the loss of so many good souls. A loss of that magnitude would herald in a power shift, one we cannot afford to offer the demons.” He let his words sink in as he picked up his pipe and lit the tobacco. He took a few small puffs to get the embers going, took a deep drag and slowly exhaled. The smoke rose and encircled his head as if it were a halo. Amused by the symbolism, I couldn’t help but smile.
My smile quickly faded as I realized the boss had only referred to me in this mission. Surely he wouldn’t be sending me alone. Sir, may I ask whom you are sending me with?”
“You will be alone… ” I attempted to interject, but before I could launch my protest, he held his hand up to silence me. “Pindara, this is not the only plot we have in the making right now. I’ve already dispatched the other soul trackers to the field and there is no time to retrieve them. It is possible that Gustav will send one of his trackers from Germany, but we all have our hands full at the moment.”
Panic hit me like a tidal wave. Having only just turned eighteen, my soul tracker powers were still new to me. There were others at the academy that would be better suited for something of this magnitude. I stood up abruptly and instantly regretted it; my head began to swim in its own panic-stricken thoughts. My legs buckled beneath me and I managed to sit down again before I fell on the floor.
Still clutching the map, I clumsily folded it and returned it to the envelope. I gently placed my assignment back on the desk and pushed it across the desk top back to my boss. “No, I can’t do it. It’s too big. It’s nothing but a death sentence to these humans,” I protested weakly. I looked at my boss and pleaded with my eyes for some sense of rational. “You must send someone else.” I told him as I held his gaze and waited for him to concede. But when did not respond, I threw my arms up in frustration. “I’m not going to take¬¬¬¬¬—you can’t be seriously thinking that I—I can’t!” I blurted. My breath had become ragged and unsteady and my body began to shake. I felt awful for losing control, it’s not what soul tracker’s do and I knew better. I looked down at my lap, shamed from my outburst.
The boss let out a loud sigh. Had I angered him? I braved a look at his face. I expected to see, frustration and even disappointment in his eyes, but I didn’t. I saw nothing that led me to believe I had upset him in anyway. “Pindara, it must be you. You will not let me down. I’m sure of it.” His voice was firm and resolute. He held my gaze and offered a supportive smile. I knew he was trying to instill confidence in me, but confidence is something I didn’t have in myself, so it failed to have its intended effect.
“How can I stop a great war? I’m not ready for something this big. Please, you must send someone else,” I pleaded, my breath still ragged as I struggled to keep my composure. “I can’t have the loss of all those souls on my hands.” I felt utterly helpless as doubt and fear began to take over.
My boss, dropping his smile, reached over his desk, picked up my assignment and held it out to me.

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