The tunnels were damp and dark. Hadil took one step after another, shivering, right hand pressed against the rocky wall so that she wouldn’t lose her way.

Her brother was waiting for her. She had to hurry. She’d kick his ass once she found him though, the big fat jerk. What was he thinking, leaving her here like this?

Or maybe she’d tell on him to the aunties. They’d ground him for at least a month, for sure! Then he’d be stuck in the village, bored out of his mind, unable to go exploring in weird places like this. Would serve him right.

Then again, kicking his ass would be more fun, but he’d probably just laugh it off and kick her ass right back. “Big brother’s privilege,” he’d call it, before tackling her to the ground and tickling her mercilessly until she could no longer breathe.

Jerk.

Why’d he always have to pick on her, anyway? He seemed to think everyone got bored as easily as he did. Always forcing her to tag along with him whenever they were done with chores, even though they weren’t supposed to wander too far from home and the mountains were off-limits. But did he ever listen to her? Noooo. She couldn’t wait until the little ones were old enough for him to bother instead. She’d much rather tinker around with stuff at home with Ma. That was loads more interesting than his boring caves.

Because you’re my favorite sister.

She supposed that made sense.

I’m your only sister, she thought crossly, and wondered just how much longer she had to go.

Though come to think of it, just how long had she been in here? Seemed like ages. What had she been doing before?

Another, stranger thought trickled through her mind -- something about some other girl? -- but it was gone before she could grasp onto it.

Nothing to do but keep walking forward.

Something white flashed in the corner of her eye. She whirled around, hand still clenched against the wall. Glimpsed a patch of scales.

Scales?

Just her imagination, probably.

And the wall hadn’t just moved under her hand, no way. Walls didn’t move. Except during earthquakes or typhoons. And then they didn’t move like that... All squishy and soft and stuff.

Why was she looking for her brother anyway? After all, he was...

A soft hiss echoed through the tunnel.

She opened her mouth. Hey, Ah-ni --

How odd. She seemed to have no voice. Or maybe she had no mouth? She touched her lips with her free hand. Or at least tried to. But she couldn’t seem to reach her face.

Then something skittered across the back of her other hand. She yelped. Snatched it away. Only to find herself falling, falling, falling, with furry things flitting against her skin and slimy walls closing in around her...

Light blinded her.

Sight returned. She saw a vast pulsing chamber: half-digested corpses strewn about the slick red floor, a mountain of grinning skulls piled neatly at the center. And legs. Tiny furry black legs marching through the empty spaces.

A single brown hand thrust out from the heaving mass, reaching for a single silvery thread dangling from above.

She knew how this story ended.

She could watch no longer.

* * *

Hadil woke with a lump in her throat, her eyes caked over, and her heart throbbing painfully in her chest. She sat up and wiped at her face.

She hadn’t had a nightmare like that in years. Not since the accident.

No helping it though. She knew very well how on edge she’d been ever since the new year. Maybe even since summer vacation.

Just what had she been thinking when she applied to the Academy? That even a silly child like her could protect her village? The choice had seemed so simple at the time.

But it was too late to regret now.

Intan and the others were due back later today. Just thinking about what they might have uncovered made her queasy. She didn’t like to think of herself as a coward, but the truth was, she was frightened out of her wits. It wasn’t anything to feel guilty about, rationally speaking, but as Grandfather and the aunties were always saying, there was nothing at all rational about love and hatred.

Fear, though. Fear made sense. In a primal, instinctive way. Fight or flight.

Five years ago, Hadil had chosen flight. But this time...

She still had a couple of hours before they got back. Even better, there were no classes today. Maybe she couldn’t pilot a Doll, but there were other ways to save, to protect. To atone.

After months of research, she was getting close. So close.

Hadil dressed quickly and slipped out of her dorm room without waking any of the other girls. She was lucky the girls in her year were all night owls. It had allowed her precious time to herself throughout the year, without the need for socialization or attempts at explaining what she was up to.

In fact, it was early enough that the domed walls of the dorm had not been drawn down for the day yet, and few others walked down the halls. Hadil pretended to be heading to the mess hall like the other early risers, but instead took a detour towards the records center. At the door, she looked around quickly to make sure no one had seen her, then fished out a key from her pocket. She’d stolen the original from a professor’s office a while back and gotten one of her friends at the factory to make a copy of it. Nobody seemed to have noticed yet. Well, maybe the Headmistress (Hadil wasn’t really sure), but she hadn’t said anything about it, so Hadil assumed it was okay. Still, no sense in risking anyone else finding out.

Not until she was inside, among the shelves of thick books and piles of old scrolls, did she let out a big sigh of relief.

She’d been spending all her spare time in these dusty archives lately. It had become more of a home to her than the actual dormitories.

Hadil skipped past the administrative records (which she’d already flipped through) and the collection of Doll designs (which she’d been really tempted to filch) and headed straight for the old newspapers she’d been in the middle of reading through during her last visit.

The official papers didn’t have much that she didn’t already know. But the school had kept copies of several underground publications during the war. And that was where she had received her first lead.

She’d been so certain there was a pattern to the Doll malfunctions over the years. At first she’d assumed the problem was limited to the newer models. After all, there’d been no issues with the old models, as far as she knew. Intan had even managed to get that retired one working just fine...

But the further back she’d sifted, the stranger the available data had gotten. Tales of Dolls behaving in ways that should have been physically impossible -- tales that were suppressed rather than debunked by official sources. Dolls whose capabilities should have been able to end the war within weeks if not days, rather than the four years it took in reality (not to mention the four years of scattered skirmishes after the main rebel forces surrendered) -- if the reports of said capabilities were accurate.

They might very well not be. Not a lot of people understood how Dolls worked. Even with all the research that had been done over the decades since, there were still plenty of mysteries left unanswered. And in place of solid fact, a bunch of crazy stories had arisen among the general populace.

Hadil wasn’t ready to give those stories much credit just yet. Suppressed or not, there were simply too many inconsistencies to account for.

But their very existence did seem to indicate that she was on the right track. And that in itself was encouraging.

Then she’d come across a brief mention of a bad crash in the third year of Enduring Militancy.

The third year of the war. Way before any of the more recent malfunctions.

The pilot had miraculously survived. He’d claimed that his Doll just suddenly stopped working in midair. The army wrote it off as an isolated incident.

And maybe it was. According to her Ma, there were tons of accidents back in the day, so something like this wouldn’t have been that unusual in the bigger picture. Which made sense, of course, since again, they hadn’t been using the Dolls all that long at that point and they weren’t totally sure how to operate them yet. There must have been a lot of trial and error involved.

The weird thing about this particular anecdote, though, was that it been no simple crash. The Doll stopped working, the pilot ejected, the machine dropped through the sky like a giant bomb. But -- or so the pilot swore -- right before it landed, it seemed to come alive again. “It just went berserk,” the article quoted him saying, though what exactly he meant by “berserk,” he either refused to elaborate on, the journalist had not thought to ask, or the paper’s editor had decided to keep the story ambiguous for reasons of her own.

At any rate, the Doll had crashed right into the mountainside, destroying a couple of nearby villages, and no amount of fixing or maintenance had been able to get it running again afterward. Like so many others, it was simply scrapped, its parts used to manufacture newer, better models.

Hadil hadn’t been able to find further references to the incident. But the article, in conjuction with some of the stuff her Ma had told her before she passed, had given Hadil an idea.

She’d started tracking down other publications by the same journalist. He or she used the pen name “Foolish Wanderer”, and had been particularly prolific during the first couple years of the war before disappearing without a trace shortly before the surrender. After a lengthy, meticulous search, Hadil had finally managed to locate every single article the Wanderer had ever penned.

All but for the very last one.

Very suspicious, if you asked her.

There were plenty of reasons the Wanderer could have disappeared, of course. He or she could have died. Or been arrested. Or simply got tired of writing and wandering.

But the Wanderer was supposed to have published a really important exposé before said disappearance. Hadil had found several oblique references to it already.

Just no actual article.

Still, she hadn’t exhausted all her possible avenues of research just yet. And she was determined to do just that today.

Only the door suddenly creaked open.

Hadil scrambled to her feet, papers scattering from her arms, and found herself face to face with a most unexpected figure.

* * *

“Gisela,” muttered Hadil, glaring at her fellow Bamboo student. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you still under surveillance or whatever?”

“Oh, if it isn’t my cute little junior,” said Gisela Liem, braid swinging merrily behind her. “Hadil, wasn’t it? We haven’t spoken since... oh, last summer! A pity. I’ve heard a great deal about you from my classmates. They’ve been very impressed, you know. I’ve been hoping for a chance to get to know you better.”

Hadil ignored her. “Is it true what they’ve been saying? That you’re a spy for Lady Ouyang?”

The older girl shrugged and adjusted her glasses. “Was. The lady promised my poor, struggling family hefty recompense for my efforts. Much good that it did her!”

“Man, and they just let you go like that? They really bought some stupid sob story like that without even bothering to question you? What the heck were they thinking?”

“They couldn’t afford not to let me go.”

“Like I’m gonna believe that.”

“Well, it’s true. They know something’s up in our division. After that whole mess with poor Sita earlier this year...”

“Seems to me even more reason they shouldn’t have let you go.”

“Goodness. I can’t tell if you’re on my side or theirs.”

Hadil scowled. “Look, Gisela... I’ve got a lot of respect for you. When you applied for the Academy and got in -- you have no idea how amazed I was. I really envied you, you know? That’s why I thought... I thought I’d give it a go too.”

“That’s not the only reason, is it?” Gisela said gently.

“None of your business. But seriously, I thought it was so great! That someone from our village could actually make it in the capital! But then... Why’d you do it, Gisela? My friends -- they almost died! If it hadn’t been for you playing rebel -- none of this would have --”

“It’s not just some stupid sob story, you know.”

“What do you mean it’s not? Look, I know times are hard and everything. But we’re all in the same boat! And you know any one of us’ll help out, no questions asked, if things really get bad. Plus, now that we’re with the military, our futures are in the bag! So why did you...”

“You’re not the only one who lost loved ones five years ago.”

Hadil opened her mouth. Closed it.

“And you think far too highly of me, Hadil. Playing rebel? Hardly... It’s true that I agreed to spy for the Ouyangs. But I made a spectacularly bad spy, I think. Tricked, knocked out, and replaced without ever accomplishing a thing. It’s kind of funny, actually. Why me, of all people? I wonder...”

Hadil clenched her fists. She realized, suddenly, that she was shaking.

“Because of Sita. Because of five years ago,” she whispered. “But why the Ouyangs? They’ve never given a crap about the western provinces. Why would you believe anything good of that lot?”

“Because the lady proved to me that her hands were clean. And it was more than money that she promised me.”

“And you believed her?”

Gisela lowered her gaze. “I had to. Or no... I should say, I wanted to.”

“So why are you here now, then? More spy work?”

“No. I’ve washed my hands of all spy business.”

“... You’re not afraid the Ouyangs are going to retaliate?”

“Headmistress Liow has promised to protect me.”

“What, in return for doing her dirty work? Don’t think I haven’t heard the rumors. It’s all Kasih from Lotus could talk about for ages.”

Gisela smiled thinly. “Considering who your friends are, I don’t think you’re in any position to talk. But no. She offered me unconditional protection, in exchange for nothing but what little information I could give her.”

“Huh,” said Hadil. “Seems too good to be true.”

“Maybe.”

“All right, fine. But why are you here?”

“I thought I’d find you here.”

“How’d you...”

“Oh, the whole village knows how much you take after your late mother... So very easy to read, the both of you. Besides, I’ve been watching you for months. I wasn’t a complete failure as a spy, you see. Oh, but don’t worry. I haven’t told anyone. Not even the Headmistress.”

The comment about her Ma stung, but Hadil refused to let it get to her. She crossed her arms. “Okay, then. What do you want with me?”

Gisela hesitated. “I want to know what you’ve found out.”

“And you think I’m just going to tell you? When you’re probably just going to run off and blab to whoever you’re working for now? No thanks!”

“Of course, I didn’t expect you to tell me for free. But I do have some information myself that you might find useful...”

“Information the lady or the Headmistress fed you?”

“Information I stole.”

“Really. What kind of information?”

Gisela smiled again, this time genuinely. “Blueprints.”

* * *

Hadil clattered down the hall, shoving her way past her fellow students. There had been some commotion during dinner. Someone had spotted an H-bird transport landing at the central launch pad. Already the rumors were all aflutter about who had been hurt, where, and why.

But Hadil knew at once whom it must be.

Instead of forcing her way to the launch pad, where all the crowds were heading at the moment, she ran for the dorms’ medical facilities.

Her entrance was barred by a grumpy soldier on duty.

“Sorry, kid. This place is off limits for the night.”

“My friends! It is them, isn’t it? Are they all right? Why’d they get back so late? They were supposed to be here hours ago!”

The soldier sighed. “If you must know, nobody’s dead. Now, off with you!”

Something bad must have happened after all. Just as Hadil had feared. But what else could she do? Probably the only people who’d be able to override orders here were Miss Singh and the Headmistress -- and even if she could locate them, one of the two must have been the one to issue those orders in the first place.

Really, times like these, she felt so utterly useless.

Resigned, she began retracing her steps to the mess hall, hoping that nobody had touched her half-finished food.

She was passing the entrance to the lowest level of the Azalea dorm when she heard vague strains of a heated exchange. Curious, Hadil followed the voices to a secluded lobby area hidden behind some expensive-looking screens.

Only to freeze as she realized she recognized one of the voices.

“I don’t care what Father and Mother think. I am not going back home!”

“But Miss...”

“Honestly! No matter what you say now, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“It’s not just a matter of your personal safety, Miss. Of course, that is your honored parents’ highest priority. But they fear that if you stay in such a place any longer...”

“Are you going to make me repeat myself?”

“It’s the project, Miss! Though plans have not proceeded exactly as expected --”

“Project?”

A sudden, heavy silence.

“What project?”

“I, er, well...”

“Tell me. Now.”

“Well, I -- I am not entirely clear regarding the details myself. I am only a humble servant, after all, such things are beyond me...”

“Oh? Then you can get your humble ass the fuck out of here. And tell my parents they won’t be seeing me again until finals are over!”

“Y-yes, Miss. My apologies. I shall take my leave at once.”

A pale, mousy fellow scurried out from behind the screens, wiping at his forehead with a handkerchief. Followed moments later by a petite and very cross-looking Kikue Sunagawa.

Hadil grinned, all panic and worry temporarily forgotten.

“Wow, Sunagawa. What was that all about?”

Kikue jumped, then visibly relaxed. “Oh, it’s you.”

“I do have a name, y’know.”

“... Wong. What are you doing here?”

Panic and worry came rushing back at once. “What happened with the mission? Where’s Intan? Why’re the med facilities off limits? Is anyone hurt?”

Kikue pressed a delicate hand to her temple. “It was a disaster, she’s with the doctors, who knows why, and no, nobody was hurt. Except maybe for a couple of those rebel bastards.”

“... Oh.” Then Hadil said, “But if she’s not hurt, then why...”

“Like I said, I do not know.”

“You’re sure she was okay?”

“Physically, yes.”

Hadil took a moment to digest this. “What... what happened?”

“As far as I can tell, one of the rebel factions turned on Mok.”

“So there are factions among the rebels after all!”

Kikue frowned at her. “It does seem so.”

“Isn’t that a good thing for us, then?”

“Who knows?” Kikue muttered with a sigh. “Now, will you please leave me alone? I’m tired and I need to get something to eat.”

“I’ll go with you! I haven’t finished dinner yet myself.”

Kikue stalked off without bothering to respond. Hadil took that as a yes.

“So...” she said. “It doesn’t seem like it was that much of a disaster.”

For a moment Hadil thought the other girl wouldn’t answer. But then Kikue said, with a surprisingly subdued undertone of anger, “We were given false orders.”

Hadil stumbled to a halt. “What do you mean?”

“Trieu from Hibiscus was apparently told to recover certain important documents from the village. While we... you were there. You know what the rest of us were told.”

“But...” Trieu had been there too, at the general meeting. Why would he have been given a completely different set of instructions, without the knowledge of the others? “Under whose orders?”

“Headmistress Liow.”

“Does this...” Hadil hesitated, uncertain how much she was willing to reveal, how much the other girl had pieced together, just whose side the other girl was on. But then she thought of the blueprints Gisela had given her. And her earlier nightmare. And she knew she could no longer keep running away from the truth. “Does this have anything to do with that... project you were talking about?”

Kikue whirled around, eyes alight with shock and fury. “What do you know?”

“I’m not sure,” Hadil said, quietly meeting her gaze.

“You’d better not be lying!”

“I’m not.” She hesitated. “I think we’d better talk.”

“Why should I trust you?”

Hadil closed her eyes. “I’m the one who should be asking you that question, Sunagawa. You’re a daughter of a Clan. And not just any daughter or any Clan -- you’re the heir and future head of one of the oldest and most prestigious Inner Clans in the history of our nation. But I’ve chosen to trust you because... because well, I guess I kinda like you. And... stuff. You’re not like the other noble kids I’ve known. And I think there are things you know that there’s no way any of us commonfolk could ever even begin to suspect.” She opened her eyes again to see the other girl blushing, but regarding her with a curious, calculating expression. As if suddenly seeing Hadil in a new light entirely.

Encouraged, Hadil continued, “This came into my hands just earlier today. Take a look.”

She reached inside her pack for the blueprints. Carefully unfolded them and smoothed out the creases before handing the stack over to Kikue.

“This is just a map of the school campus, isn’t it?” murmured Kikue, brows furrowed.

“Look again.”

“Wait... you mean to say...”

“Yep. That’s right. It’s a map of the old capital. Before it was abandoned.”

And a map of that which lay underneath it.