They left the shelter of the air duct and sneaked out of another storage closet. They were underground, in the depths of the palace. Labyrinths behind the walls. Clo wondered who else used them and for what purpose. They walked confidently, chins up, shoulders back, as if they had every right in the world to be there.

People, even guards, were not nearly as observant as they thought they were. Routine made people comfortable. Complacent. Even with the threat of Tholosian justice should they fail, it was easy to miss the little details. If someone walked confidently, looked the part, made eye contact, gave a little nod, then carried on with their business, few tended to question that assurance. It was easier for the guards to fall back into the routine programmed into their minds.

The command center only had one officer out front, with more on the neighboring hallways to come if he sounded the alarm. The hubris of depending on the Oracle for protection and surveillance would help Clo and Ariadne tonight.

Ariadne found the next blind spot, and they popped another hatch and boosted each other back up into the vents. They crawled farther through the dust, making toward a mainframe panel. Clo could barely fit, her shoulders brushing against the metal sides. The darkness closed in around her and Clo steadied a breath.

Forward, she told herself.

Ariadne opened the panel, fingers snaking into spirals and swirls on the small adjacent screen. She slotted in another small chip of her own design. Another feat of magic, slipping this past the guards.

“This isn’t connecting properly,” Ariadne whispered. “I’m more software than hardware. Can you help?”

She shimmied back. Their bodies had to press against each other to pass through the tight space. Clo could feel Ariadne’s ribs. The Oracle might not have starved the girl, but Clo had heard enough about Ariadne’s limited, dull diet to understand that eating had brought her no pleasure. Rage at how the girl had been treated burned hot and bright. Ariadne ate every chance she could, but Clo would be glad to see the former engineer healthy and happy.

Clo turned her attention to the chip. Something was interfering with the connection—the green light kept flickering on and off. Clo put her tongue between her teeth, dragging her chipped nails into the wire. Ariadne had warned her the electronics this deep in the building were older, less reliant on the Oracle’s coding, and more prone to being finicky.

It only took Clo a few tries before it connected strongly enough that the green light glowed bright and steady. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” Ariadne whispered. “The cameras have recorded a loop for fifteen seconds, and it’ll keep replaying on monitors.” She fiddled for another few seconds. “I just turned off the weight and heat sensors in the hallways, but if the lasers trigger, I can deal with those.”