The upper-level streets are connected by a crisscross of bridges and painted walkways. Fruit trees shift in the night breeze, and scents of citrus and flower blossoms fill the air.

Theo pulls into one of the darkened alleyways, shrouding the vehicle in shadow. Shura looks over her shoulder and nods. I can see the strain in her gaze—a sign that she’s still veiling us—and I nod back because I want to reassure her. I can do this.

Tonight, I become the Colony’s spy.

I straighten my shoulders and leave the car behind. I don’t turn back to look for Theo; he’ll be under a veil by now, and I have a part to play.

When I reach the main street, I spot a few Residents exiting one of the larger houses. They’re busy fussing with their clothes and headpieces, prattling away about something trivial.

“I wonder if the centerpieces will be as impressive as the last Dawn Festival. I do so enjoy a good floral arrangement.”

“I hear the festival in Famine takes place in the underwater palace!”

“Oh, but Famine is such a dreary court in comparison to Victory. Not a speck of artwork to be seen.”

“I took a trip there once and couldn’t find a new outfit for the entirety of my stay. I had to wear the same shoes twice!”

A series of gasps and crooning follow the remark, just as a human servant pulls up in a sleek black car. Her silver armlet has a black stone in the center—the appropriate color for a driver—and when she gets out of the car and opens the passenger door, she dips her head low.

“It is an honor to serve,” she says, her voice floating through the night.

I hide my flinch and press on, turning down the elaborate silver bridge that leads to the Gallery. The car from earlier passes by, and I’m so focused on not giving myself away that it takes me all the way until the end of the bridge to realize Prince Caelan’s summer house has come into view.

It sits on a raised platform like a castle in the clouds. A pair of stone creatures curve their tails from the highest point of the building all the way to the massive doorway—twin wolves, long and lean and rippling like marble ribbons, their jaws wide and bursting with colorful flowers.

When I reach the foot of the staircase, I lift my dress to avoid tripping. Slowly, I climb the steps, nodding delicately to passing Residents who do the same—a formal, detached greeting that I hope will get me through the rest of the night.

I hesitate near the stone beasts, wondering if Theo is nearby or if I’m already on my own, and glance at my silver ring. It doesn’t give me the comfort I hoped for.