I sneezed again and for the hundredth time cursed at the star I was born under for putting me in a place such as this. London's gut was a hideous place. The air smelled of sulphur and the heat given off by the giant furnaces was something I could barely tolerate. I would be more than happy to be off this city, but I was here for a special reason. I glanced around again, but all I saw were the scavengers as they tore the town London had caught apart. He wasn't here yet.

I slid my hand under my coat and lightly brushed the knife hidden underneath. It wouldn't be long now. He would pay for what he'd done.

There was a sudden commotion far to my left. I turned and froze. A tall man with black hair and a neatly cut beard and was walking slowly in my direction, stopping and chatting with the scavengers. A young boy and girl accompanied him, the boy was scrawny, and seemed to be relatively happy about something. The girl was beautiful, with long glossy black hair, and a giant wolf at her side. But the one that had my attention was the tall man. Valentine. I ground my teeth together. The man who murdered my parents and marked my face with an ugly scar.

I walked towards him casually, pretending to be drawn to the well-known and admired historian. I snorted quietly. None of them knew what kind of a man he really was. I stopped a bit away from the crowd that had gathered around him, and contemplated the best way to approach him. But it seemed he had solved that problem for me. Valentine had laughed at something one of the scavengers said before asking, "So, have you found anything the Historians Guild might like to purchase?" Some of the scavengers nodded.

I narrowed my eyes and slipped my hand into my coat again, before whispering, "I have something for you." The two teens accompanying Valentine glanced at me. I drew out the knife and lunged forward. The girl screamed and the wolf growled. I hesitated. I didn't want to face a rabid dog. But even if I die here, I am taking Valentine with me. I continued on and aimed for his heart. But before the knife could penetrate Valentine's skin, the boy grabbed my arm and pulled roughly. I cried out and tried to pull away, but I dropped the knife. I glared at the kid. He had stopped me!