“Put your flashlight into your pocket,” Indigo replied, “and place your other hand on the higher rung.”

This time I understood that he would not answer me unless I did as he said. I hesitated, caught on a knife-edge between fear and curiosity, between annoyance that he was treating me like I was weak and gratitude for the help.

By now I trusted Indigo to save my life—as long as our arrangement lasted, of course. I hadn’t imagined a scenario between he and I that would require a different kind of trust. The kind of trust that you couldn’t negotiate.

It felt like handling one of Lantern-Eyes’ grenades for the first time, not sure when it would explode or if it would or how dramatic the consequences would be. I turned the flashlight off like Indigo had told me to, leaving me in no light except for his. And I set my second hand on the ladder rungs.

Indigo said, “We are raised by a sequence of teachers, who teach us everything we need to know. When we are nearly adults, a single Minister takes us under their tutelage and trains us according to their specialties. For me, that was the Minister you know as One.”

“What did she teach you?”

“Step onto the ladder.”

I did as I was told. So long as I focused on what Indigo was telling me—which was fascinating, secrets of the Ministers that maybe no one knew—it was easier not to think about the tunnel ahead.

I took another step onto the rung without being told and then, carefully, another after that.

“Number One taught me how to protect those who need it,” Indigo said, beneath me now, and I heard the sounds of him starting the ascent from below. No: focus on what he was saying, not where he was. Where we were.

“She taught me how to achieve my goals, efficiently and completely, without hesitation or error,” Indigo continued. “The second of these being more important than the first. I am a piece of Maria Nova, not a free agent of my own. It’s crucial that I achieve my goals swiftly and perfectly.”

Wow. He and Tamara had more in common than I’d thought: They’d both been brainwashed.

“Do you have any students of your own?” I asked.

“Several. But none in the past few years.”

That was an odd clarification. And he’d volunteered it, too. “Why not?”

“The Ministerial Council and I mutually agreed that it would be for everyone’s best benefit.”

There was some story hidden in there, I was certain of it. But he hadn’t left me anything specific to ask about.

“Climb,” Indigo told me.

“I’m not one of your students,” I said, though I’d reached out for the ladder when he’d gestured, the metal cold under my palm. Tamara had started climbing again above me. Her boots echoed. I shuddered. “Tell me your name, Indigo.”

“You’ve given me a name.”

“Your real name,” I said. “You must have an actual name or some sort of designation. Otherwise how would any of you ever talk about each other? There’d be millions of purples and indigoes and blues and greens. It wouldn’t make any sense.”