"She's running errands."
"Of course. And the Flame Monarch is scouting the food court."
If she was, the food court gave no sign of it.
Somewhere among its four hundred tables sat one of the most famous women alive with her heat banked to nothing and her face angled away from every camera in the building, working through a carton of fries, and not one person looked at her twice. The fries were real. The errand was not.
Deeper in the concourse, two plainclothes Eclipse members had been comparing the same two scented candles for forty minutes without buying either, and a third had walked the food court perimeter so many times that a kiosk owner had started offering him samples out of pity.
The arcade happened because Calypso saw the lights.
Yuna Park got there first. She came off the mezzanine rail without using the stairs and was inside the arcade for nine full seconds before the family reached its threshold.
