We climb down a tunnel that smells heavily of soil, and when my foot hits the surface, I feel the cold envelop me. I turn, unable to see, when Gil flicks a switch and the small room lights up. I recognize Yeong’s machine first—the one I was hooked up to when he saw my memories. It’s standing off to the side, just behind a black chair with metal restraints where a person’s arms and legs should be. Surrounding all of it is a wall of glass.

A prison.

But for who?

My heart drums. “What is this place?”

“You know Ahmet is building a weapon.” Gil looks around, a bronze lantern hanging directly above him. “This is where we’re going to test it.”

“You’re going to capture a Resident?” I ask, wide-eyed.

He nods. “It wouldn’t be safe to bring them to the Colony.” I don’t have to ask to know what he means. In case it doesn’t work.

I reach out toward the glass, but pull my hand back at the last moment. This is a cage. We’re putting a Resident in a cage.

“I thought you’d be more pleased,” Gil says, voice going hard. “If Ahmet succeeds, you might even be able to resign as spymaster. We could finish this without your help.”

I let my arm drop and turn around to face him. He may as well see all of me before he starts to judge. “That’s not what I want. And weapon or not, it’s still safer for me to walk into the palace than any of you.” I tighten my mouth. “Whoever you put in here—I just hope they deserve it.”

“Any other requests?”

I pause. “Yes, actually. Don’t get yourself caught. I hear the Colony isn’t big on rescue missions to the Winter Keep.” I move toward the ladder just as Gil lets out a dark chuckle.

When we’re standing back in the forest, Gil closes the hatch and sweeps dirt and leaves over the surface. We walk in silence, footsteps crunching over mulch and toadstools. The docks must not be far; I can hear the call of the sea, though I can hardly see where I’m going at all.

Something sharp catches the hem of my dress, and I struggle to free myself. Frustrated, I give a firm tug, and the branch snaps in response, sending me stumbling backward and straight into Gil.

I yelp, feeling my body giving in to gravity, when he grabs hold of my arm, stabilizing me. Flustered and very aware I’ve torn my dress, I find my footing.

“Thanks,” I manage to whisper.

“If only you hadn’t quit those dance lessons,” he says. “You might’ve been able to get home in one piece.”

“I can walk perfectly fine,” I hiss. “It’s just dark.”

“Ah yes. The dark. Every spy’s downfall.”

“Oh, be quiet.”