Trig pushed through the crowd trying to keep up with Jordan’s small figure. He admired the way she gracefully moved through the packed corridor, weaving through the other spectators as if they weren't there. She did so with a quiet confidence that allowed her to blend until no one gave her a second glance. He wished he could say the same. There was no way to camouflage, who or what he was and he was definitely drawing some attention.
They had decided that it would be best if they appeared not to be together. Jordan had come through the entrance slightly behind him and in a different line. She was wearing the familiar dark brown cloak that covered her head all the way down to the tops of her dark brown boots. Light brown gloves covered her pale hands. He had given her a pair of dark goggle
