She thought of the Oracle’s cruelty. The long hours. What she’d had to do. But she remembered the stories the Oracle would tell her—those she deemed safe enough to tell a little girl. Fables and Old World lore, the offerings, the Named Things lined up in her room. A dried rosebud. Purple amethyst. The doll with the china face and yellow hair.

I love you, she thought.

—

Clo jumped a little when Ariadne opened the door.

“All right?” Clo asked.

“Done. Let’s get out of here.”

“What did you find?” Clo whispered as soon as they reached the claustrophobic air ducts again.

“Not now,” Ariadne said. “First, we go back up the elevator shaft.”

Clo let out a groan and a very soft “Silt.”

Ariadne busied herself, turning off the shifters to save energy in case they needed them later. Once again, they looked grimy, and they only grew dirtier as they crawled back through the ducts.

“Right on time,” she said as the elevator sped past them, blowing her hair back. Clo wiped her hands on her filthy clothes, and Ariadne did the same. Neither of them would slip again tonight.

After climbing up, they kept crawling. Ariadne’s neck and shoulders burned, and memories of countless hours spent in the dark innards of ducts just like these haunted her. Sometimes, Ariadne would have to stop and close her eyes, mentally bringing up the map she’d studied. The Oracle was all around her, and even now, One could be turning One’s gaze inward, sensing the anomaly.

Finally, they reached the edge of the building. Ariadne and Clo climbed out into the empty room.

Ariadne pointed at the small window. “We’re out of the basement levels, so we jump out. If we time the drop, the hedge below should hide us from cameras. Then it’s right back to the ship.”

“How big is this jump, exactly?”

“Only a story.”

“Only?”

Ariadne grinned. “You’ll be fine.”

“What if I crack my head open?”

“That would be bad. Try not landing on your head.”

Clo scowled. “Thanks, that’s fluming excellent advice.”

Ariadne laughed, because it was that or sob. She took out the shifter and started going over their clothes again. “Damn it,” she muttered.

“What?” Ariadne shook the shifter, but no luck. They both looked as dirt-streaked as before.

“Signal’s jammed.”

Or the Oracle has found us.

Clo exhaled hard through her nose. “So, now we have to jump out a window, hide behind a giant bush, and then walk into the loading bay and into our ship absolutely covered in dirt and hope no one will notice. Great. So great.”

“Optimism, please!” Ariadne wished she had someone to reassure her. Someone to say everything would be okay.