Irina Spasky sat on the steps of the Sydney Opera House. The roofline of the famous building surged forward, mimicking the dancing waves of the harbor. The sun was a golden disc in a sky as blue as a Fabergé egg. Tourists and locals walked by, contented people enjoying a lovely day in a beautiful city.

You are all doomed, she thought.

If she were to stop these people and ask Where are you from? — although of course she would never be so friendly—the answers would be easy. Sydney, Tokyo, Manila, Los Angeles. Tourists from so many cities and small towns in so many countries. Sometimes their countries got along, and sometimes their countries did not, and that was why there were governments and diplomats and, occasionally, wars. That’s the way the world worked. They thought.

But where did the real power lie? In the shadows. In the shadows, there were no borders. Everything dissolved into gray.

For a Cahill, countries and boundaries were meaningless. Only branches mattered. One branch could rule the world.

Blin! Irina had come to grudgingly admit that Grace had done it after all. She had contrived a way to find the 39 Clues. A hunt that had been going on for hundreds of years, but at last it would be over. Irina had little doubt of it now. She felt it in her Russian bones.

Then what?

Irina had always believed with every cell in her body that the Lucians were best equipped to win. She had believed in Vikram Kabra once. But the years had corrupted that bright young man she’d known at Oxford. He had met the beautiful Isabel and married her. Once upon a time, if those two walked into a room, it seemed to shine and spin with their particular dazzle. Irina remembered days and nights of falling under their spell—Vikram’s warm voice, his keen intelligence, Isabel’s shrewdness and humor.

Once upon a time … yes, every fairy tale began that way.

When she’d met them, she’d already been a KGB agent for two years. She’d joined the KGB at sixteen — their youngest operative — and had been trained and educated to become an exchange student at Oxford. She had met Vikram, and they’d become friends almost immediately.

Irina hadn’t known it, but she was a Cahill. She had been recruited by the KGB because she was a Cahill. Her superior had also been a Lucian, and she had been sent to Oxford, where Vikram had been waiting.

It had been Vikram who had shown her the Cahill world, told her about the Lucians. She had continued in the KGB, but as the years went on, she did more and more jobs for Isabel and Vikram as they ascended the ranks of the Lucian elite.

She had believed in them. She had believed in their ruthlessness. She’d believed in her own. It was necessary. The Lucians must win at any cost.

And then just a few days ago, she’d almost killed two people who got in her way.

Amy and Dan Cahill. Children.

What had become of her?

Irina put a finger on her twitching eye, but it would not stop jumping.

Irina stared at the bright, pretty world. She was not used to having doubts. They made a person feel so … unmoored.

Right now she had a job. Amy and Dan were in Sydney. Isabel herself had gone with the Lucian team to tail them from the airport. It had been years since Isabel had acted as an agent, and it was typical of her to jump in and risk the careful planning. Her ego came into play, as it always did. She wanted to prove that she was still an expert at disguise. So she’d pretended to be an elderly woman, and then, just for fun, she’d stolen Amy’s jade necklace. Which meant she had to leave the bus, which meant that now Irina had a problem. She had no idea where Dan and Amy were staying, and Isabel snapping Find them! in her face wasn’t helping.

What was Isabel up to? The fact that she’d actually left her mansion in London to fly all the way here was troubling. Isabel and Vikram liked to control things from afar. Isabel claimed that jet lag gave her wrinkles.

Not that you have to worry about such things, she’d told Irina with a laugh. Obviously, you don’t care about your appearance.

This was true, but it was still insulting. Once, Irina had been attractive. Some had called her beautiful. One person in particular.

Irina’s eye twitched. That was long ago.

So much had gone wrong in Russia. Amy and Dan, she was sure, had found the Clue. She’d been certain that they were being helped, but still…. What they were able to accomplish on their own … Dan on that motorcycle! Amy driving a car! Irina quirked her lips, but she didn’t allow the smile to escape.

She rose to her feet. Enough. She had a duty to do. If only the memories would stop! A little boy walked by between his parents, clutching a stuffed animal, something gray … a monkey? No, a puppy. It was only a puppy.

Irina felt the nerve in her eye shiver, and she reached up a hand to still it. A group of young people thought she was waving to them, and they waved back.

Scowling, she jammed her black sunglasses on. How she hated Australia! It was such a cheerful country.