He watched for signs that she was reacting badly to the serum. But none came. Instead, she took several deep breaths and opened her eyes. “Something has changed,” she said. “What was the power of the person this came from?”

“Fire manipulation,” Magdalena said. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean—”

Eleni raised her hands, and Magdalena stopped talking. Eleni focused on the space between her palms. A moment later, a spark crackled and disappeared. Eleni tried again, and this time a small ball of flame formed. It remained intact, no larger than a gumball. Eleni grinned, and it flickered out.

“It works,” Magdalena said breathlessly.

Eleni conjured the fire again. This time, the ball grew in size and strength. The Mog moved it back and forth between her palms, like a child playing with a ball. “It doesn’t burn my skin,” she said. “I feel its warmth, but I am not hurt.”

“Careful,” Magdalena said. “You don’t want to set off the sprinklers, or start a fire.”

“Not yet, anyway,” said Eleni, making the fireball wink out, and they both laughed. Then Eleni looked at Sam and smirked. “Now I am like you,” she said. “Or like you once were.”

“We’ll see,” Sam said.

“Yes,” said Eleni. “We will. Speaking of seeing, I believe it’s almost time.” She picked up a remote that was sitting on a nearby table and used it to turn on the television. On the screen, a male news reporter was standing outside the entrance to the Saturn Hotel, where a limousine was disgorging its passengers, a trio of gorgeous young women all dressed in glamorous outfits. Sam recognized the three immediately. They were sisters from a popular reality television series.

The girls, seeing a camera, immediately gravitated to it, flashing dazzling smiles and posing. The reporter, fawning, said, “We’re here at the stunning Saturn Hotel for the grand opening of Cirque des Étoiles’s latest extravaganza. Ladies, are you looking forward to the show?”

They nodded and beamed. One of the them said, “I adore the circus.”

“Except for clowns,” another of them added. “There are no clowns in this one, are there?”

The reporter laughed as if she’d said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “I don’t think there are clowns,” he said. “But I hear the show is chock-full of surprises. And it’s starting in just a little while, so you’d better get inside.”

The sisters walked off, and the reporter turned to the at-home audience. “We can’t take you inside tonight’s premiere,” he said, frowning sadly. “No cameras allowed. The only way you’re going to see what takes place inside the Saturn Hotel arena is if you’ve got one of these.” He held up a metallic silver ticket and waved it around. “Which I do! So I’m going to head inside and I’ll report back later tonight. This is Trek Masters for KVAS, and I’ll talk at you later.”

“He’s wrong about one thing,” Eleni said. “You don’t need a ticket to see the show. At least not if you’re in one of the VIP suites.” She changed the channel, and the picture on the TV switched to a scene of an arena, presumably the one attached to the Saturn Hotel. A stage was set up in the center, with seats all around it. A dark blue curtain patterned with stars and planets surrounded the stage, hiding it from view.