the mist. At the same time, Adena pinches my arm, nodding quietly to the pair of guards at the far end of the courtyard. We make for the trees. As I reach them, I skip up the trunk to grab one of the branches that arches close to its roof.
My mother had been the one to teach me how to move through the trees. As a child, I used to watch her from the ground in awe as she crept along the branch with both hands and feet, as silent and smooth as a leopard. Squirrels wouldn’t even know she was coming until she speared them from behind.
I creep along the branches now, my boots firm against the bark. I gauge my distance from the main building and take a silent leap. My boots hit the roof with a muffled thud. I crumble and roll immediately, cushioning the rest of my landing.
Down below, one of the guards glances idly up at the trees, as if unsure he’d heard the wind through the branches, then goes back to listening to his companion complain.
I go to the edge of the roof and look over toward Adena. She’s ready and waiting. We exchange a brief nod.
Then we jump down at the same time. Daggers flash in both of my hands.
The guards don’t have time to look up. They don’t even have time to widen their eyes or utter a sound. My gloved hand clamps across one’s mouth. My dagger comes up to his throat. I press hard into his skin and cut.
Gentle Talin, my father always said to me whenever I cried at the sight of my mother culling a chicken for our dinner. He’d chuckle in sympathy and hug me to him. I’m glad he never got to witness me doing my job.
Adena doesn’t hesitate in her movements either. She chooses instead to stab the back of the other guard’s neck at the same time I make my move.
Both soldiers collapse. We catch them before they can fall to the ground, then lower them carefully into the bush surrounding the complex.
Then we hear it—the alarm going up outside. There’s a shout, followed by a second one. They’ve discovered the body we were forced to leave outside along the gates.
We exchange a silent look of understanding. Adena pats the side of her belt, where she has the samples ready. There’s no smile between us—only the option to move forward. Through the darkness, I can feel Red’s pull beating strong in my mind. He can probably sense that we’re here too.
They may try to take everything from you, my mother had said to me on our first night in Mara’s Outer City, huddled over a fire. Her eyes were locked on mine, sharp as flint. But you can take from them too.
Then we face the main door of the building and smash the glass.
This is enough to stir the hornet’s nest. Instantly, the courtyard and the gate come to life with guards. I see their shadows running along the top of the wall, then figures in the darkness of the courtyard, heading toward the shattered door.
Adena and I both dart inside. I find myself staring at a hall that branches into darkness.
The guards are on us, I tell Red.
His voice comes back instantly. Head down the hall, he tells us. Stop two doors from the end and make a left. It’s a more private corridor that will take you deeper into the building.
Outside, Jeran sends his call again. He’ll be waiting for us to emerge again … if we come out at all.
I’ve never set foot inside a laboratory at the heart of the Federation. I wouldn’t know what kind of architecture they have. But I have been inside the Early Ones’ ruins, seen the way they structure their strange metal walls and their machines.
This place looks like it could have been taken straight from one of those ruins. The walls are smooth and high, formed from metal, and within the grooves in the floor comes a faint glow of light behind glass, the same flameless filaments we’d seen on display in the city.
Soldiers come behind us. Adena and I dash to the end of the hall until we’re two doors away, then follow Red’s directions and swerve left. The halls echo with the shouts of soldiers as their boots land on the floor.
How far in? I ask Red.
You’ll know when you’ve reached the main room, he tells me.