“That’s not how I meant it and you know it,” he replies coolly. “This isn’t something you should be involved in.”

“Why not?” My voice bristles like I’m preparing for confrontation.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Because I don’t want you to see something that will make you change your mind.”

“About what? The mission?”

Gil drops his hand, but he doesn’t reply.

“I’m never going to convince you whose side I’m on, am I.” It isn’t a question.

He sighs reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll veil you. But not a word.”

I nod. “Deal.”

Gil motions for me to follow him across the docks. We climb the hillside, disappearing into the forest of silver birch. He holds up a palm, erupting a soft glow in his hand, and walks beside me through the thick grass. I’m afraid to look at the sky—afraid of seeing Legion Guards swarming ahead and losing my nerve. So I focus on the wet crunch of leaves beneath my boots and the shape of Gil beside me.

We find the hatch, and this time I climb down the ladder first, gripping tightly. I hear Yeong’s voice before I reach the floor.

“We won’t have a lot of time when he wakes, and I don’t know how well this cell will hold him. You’ll have to be quick.”

“Did he say anything yet?” Ahmet asks.

“He was only conscious for a handful of seconds, when I was adjusting the wires. He was yelling about how the prince would come for him and we’d all be sent to War,” Yeong replies. “It seemed too big a gamble to leave him awake any longer.”

I move away from the ladder and watch as Gil steps off the last rung. He eyes me for only a moment, and I know I’m the only one still under his veil.

“You got here just in time,” Ahmet says. He holds up a metal device that looks more like a clunky compass than a weapon. “We’re going to run the next test.”

Gil takes it from him, letting the weight of it settle in his palm.

Ahmet rubs his hands together, mind focused. “Yeong doesn’t think there will be much time to question him, in case the restraints don’t hold him.”

“They’ll hold,” Gil says, studying the weapon.

“But if they don’t—” Yeong starts.

“I said they’ll hold,” Gil snaps.

Yeong clamps his mouth shut, resigned.

Ahmet runs a hand over his face, fighting exhaustion. “I think we’re all a little on edge. Every Legion Guard in Victory is out looking for our prisoner.” He turns over his shoulder, peering through the glass.

I follow his gaze to the man strapped in the chair. His off-white robes are crumpled around him, and even though his eyes are shut, I recognize the pinch of his face.

Vallis.