As we pass through the central plaza, there’s a gap in the line of shops, and an iron fence looks out over a view of a distant waterfall. I rush over to the fence and catch my breath when I realize that there’s nothing on the other side of the rail but a sheer drop hundreds of feet down to where water violently crashes against rocks in the cove below. From here, I can see that the whole village has been built on the edge of a cliff, which curves to form the secluded cove. The waterfall blocks the point at which the cliff sides almost meet in a narrow ravine, the only passage from the cove to the ocean.

Wind whips my hair into my face, and I close my eyes and breathe in the smell of breeze and brine. “I’d love to go down to the water,” I say to Michael, who has followed me and is watching my awe with a smile.

“That would be challenging,” he responds. “The founders of Genesis purposely chose this island for the protection provided by its steep cliffs. It’s not easy to get down to the beach.”

Right. This island is for hiding. From people like me.

“Let’s get to the institute,” Michael says. “Would you prefer to walk or take an ornithopter?” He gestures back toward the gliders.

“There’s no way I’m getting into one of those oversize paper airplanes. Please, let’s walk.”

Michael coughs to suppress a laugh. “That’s the first time I’ve heard da Vinci’s original design described quite like that.” He leads me down a path into the cover of trees, where I’m surrounded by the fresh smell of many shades of green.

A slobbering hound races toward us from the opposite direction, followed by a man who grins broadly when he sees Michael. The man wears a blue gemstone earring just like Michael’s, though he looks a bit older. His T-shirt and corduroy slacks are ordinary enough, or they would be if they weren’t accompanied by a red velvet cape and knee-high laced boots. I’m going to need to practice not snickering when looking at full-on adults wearing capes. But also, I want those boots.

The two men grasp each other’s arms below the elbow in greeting, and Michael scratches the dog behind the ears.

“Ada, meet Master Ravi Bose. He’ll be your Apprentice Testaments instructor.”

I nod politely as if I know what the hell a testament is and as if throwing around words like “master” and “apprentice” is perfectly normal.

“Do you know why the Guard are watching the station?” Michael asks his friend.