I was tired of all of it.

But if their claims were true, this could be the worst thing we’d ever come up against. I couldn’t take the chance. What was really getting to me was that since Angel and Gazzy had left yesterday afternoon, we hadn’t heard from them. All sorts of bad scenarios played out in my brain, but I hoped if they’d been harmed, I would somehow know it, feel it.

“What time does the rally start?” Dylan asked.

“You saw the poster. Noon,” I said, my anxiety making me cranky.

His eyes met mine, and his expression told me that he understood, that he didn’t take it personally. Just then I remembered being with him atop the Arc de Triomphe. Being held, being comforted again wouldn’t be such a bad thing right now…. I looked away, angry at myself for thinking like a weak and weepy damsel.

“We should go there early,” said Nudge, fidgeting in her chair. Despite all the baddies and dangers and disasters we’d faced, this one felt different. We were all on edge.

I nodded. “We’ll head there right after breakfast—and try to volunteer.”

Fang’s gang had its own plan; our part was to get jobs at the rally.

By 10:00 a.m., crowds were gathering at the Place de la Concorde. It was a huge plaza and could hold thousands of people. Somehow the DG had gotten permission to close off the traffic circle around the tall pink-marble obelisk that had been a gift from Egypt nearly two hundred years before.

The DG had plastered the place with flyers, promising a wonderful rally, filled with truth, enlightenment, and new beginnings, all starting at noon.

“Truth, enlightenment, and new beginnings? Try mass destruction of humanity!” Dylan sputtered.

I nodded, continuing to scan the area. I saw nothing ominous—and no signs of Angel or Gazzy. How would D-day come about? A bomb? Death rays? A huge meteor that no one expected? So far I wasn’t getting any clues. I felt tense, with a weird sense of foreboding in the pit of my stomach. Still, this could all turn out to be a huge bust. Maybe the DG had overextended itself?

I could only hope.

We found the main stage, where kids were setting up metal barriers to control the crowd. At least six news vans were unloading equipment, getting ready to film whatever happened.

“Why haven’t we heard from Angel and Gazzy?” I asked under my breath as we waited to speak to someone in charge. “I’m getting nothing from her.”

“I’m sure she’s okay,” Dylan said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I tried not to jump out of my skin. Would I ever get used to him? It really seemed like too much, to have to deal with my feelings about him on top of saving the world.