Cress

  “What was that?”

  She returned her attention to Thorne. She was still kneeling beside him, trying to steady him as best she could. He’d taken a hard punch to his stomach that had knocked the wind from him, but at least he was breathing and talking again.

  “I think we just lost Iko,” she said. “Can you stand?”

  Thorne groaned, still clasping one hand to his stomach. “Yeah,” he said, sounding none too convinced.

  Something shuffled. Glancing up, Cress squeaked and dug her fingers into Thorne’s arms. The guards, having been paralyzed and empty faced for the past few moments, were twitching. One of them groaned.

  Beside her, Thorne pulled himself to his feet. “There. Better,” he said, though he was still grimacing. “Do you see my cane anywhere? Or my knife?”

  She spotted the cane behind one of the guards, whose furious gaze was no longer empty or harmless.

  “Cress?”

  “Guards are up again,” she said.

  Thorne flinched. “All six of them?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “And Cinder’s on the ground—she might be unconscious. And Wolf’s still under Sybil’s control and I … I think he’s going to…” She squeezed Thorne’s arm, horrified at the sight of Wolf pinning Cinder to the ground. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t, like being stuck in a bad dream.

  “That all sounds very dire,” said Thorne.

  Shivering, she pressed her back against him, wondering how her death was going to come. Her skull crushed against the concrete? Her neck snapped like Iko’s?

  “I guess it’s time.”

  While Cress’s thoughts continued to churn through the horrible things that could happen to her, she felt herself being suddenly spun around and dipped backward, a supportive arm scooping beneath her back. She yelped and caught herself on Thorne’s shoulder.

  Then he was kissing her.

  The battle became a hurricane, with them caught in the eye—his arms cradling her against the wind, her skirt billowing around his legs, his lips gentle but coaxing as if they had all the time in the world.

  Warmth overtook her and Cress closed her eyes. She thought her arms wanted to wrap around his neck, but her whole body was vibrating and dizzy and she could barely keep her fingers clutched around the fabric of his shirt.

  She had just finished melting when she was suddenly righted again.

  The world flipped. Thorne spun, embracing her against his chest with one arm while the other reached for his waist. Cress heard the gunshot and screamed, pressing herself against him, before she realized that Thorne was the one who had fired.

  A guard grunted.

  Another guard grabbed Thorne by the collar and he turned, elbowing the guard in the jaw.

  “Cress, do me a favor.” He twirled her around so that her back was against him—she was beginning to feel like a satellite being constantly spun out of orbit, but she had no time to think as Thorne settled his arm on her shoulder. “Make sure I don’t shoot anyone we like.”

  He fired again and the bullet clipped a guard’s bicep. The guard barely flinched, and lunged toward them.

  Gasping, Cress wrapped her hands around Thorne’s and aimed. He fired again, this time hitting the guard in the chest. He stumbled backward and fell.

  Cress swiveled, pulling Thorne’s hand toward the next guard. Another shot to the chest. A third shot hit the next guard’s shoulder. She aimed for the fourth—

  Click. Click.

  Thorne cursed. “Well, that was fun while it lasted.”

  The guard laughed. He was tall and made of muscle, with orange-red hair that swept nearly straight up, and he was the only guard that Cress recognized. She’d seen him on the surveillance footage before, usually along with the rest of the queen’s entourage, which meant he was probably the highest-ranking guard among them.

  “If it’s all right with you,” he said, “I’ll be killing you now.”

  “Aren’t you a gentleman?” Thorne said, pulling Cress behind him and raising his fists.

  A scream split through the wind.

  Not just a scream, but a scream made up of pain and delirium, torture and agony.

  Cress and Thorne both ducked and covered their ears, and at first Cress was terrified that it was Cinder. But when she looked, Mistress Sybil had fallen on the ground and was twitching and digging her nails into her scalp. The scream went on and on as she twisted and flailed, craning her head so fast it smacked against the asphalt, then curling up on herself like a fetus, searching for relief that wasn’t coming.

  Cinder still appeared unconscious, with Wolf hovering over her. But then he whipped his head like a bedraggled dog and sprang away from Cinder with wild, remorseful eyes.

  Cinder stayed corpse-like on the ground.

  “Stop!” the red-haired guard yelled. He grabbed Cress, yanking her away from Thorne and wrapping one hand around her throat. She screamed and clawed at his wrists, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I said stop, or I’ll crush her throat!” Though he was yelling, he could hardly be heard over Sybil, and either Cinder didn’t hear him or she didn’t care … or she couldn’t stop. Cress tried to kick behind her, but her legs were too short and already darkness was encroaching on her vision.…

  Crack.

  The guard’s fist loosened and he toppled over, unconscious. Cress stumbled away from him, rubbing her neck. Spinning around, she saw Thorne holding his cane like a club.

  “I found my cane,” he said, tossing it once with a twirl and trying to catch the other end, but missing. The cane clattered to the floor. Thorne flinched. “Are you all right?”

  She gulped, ignoring how it burned in her throat. “Y-yes.”

  “Good.” Thorne picked up the cane again. “Now what in the name of spades is all the screaming about?”

  “I don’t know. Cinder’s doing something to Mistress Sybil … something with her gift.”

  “Well, it’s annoying and we’re running out of time. Come on.”

  One of the guards they’d shot reached out for Cress’s ankle as she passed, but she kicked at him as they ran for Cinder. Wolf was shaking her, but she wasn’t responding. Behind them, Sybil’s screams tapered into uncontrollable blubbering as she convulsed on the ground.

  “Maybe Cinder has to be rebooted,” said Thorne, after Cress had described the situation as well as she could. “That happened once before. Here.” He reached beneath Cinder’s head and Cress heard a click.

  Cinder’s eyes popped open and her hand snapped around Thorne’s wrist. Crying out, he fell over onto the ground.

  Sybil’s sobs dwindled to whimpering.

  “Don’t. Open. My control panel,” she said. Releasing Thorne, she shut the plate in her head.

  “Then stop going comatose on me!” He stood up. “Can we go now, before the entire Commonwealth military shows up?”

  Cinder sat up, blinking. “Iko…”

  “Right. Wolf, could you get the android, please? And the emperor, I trust he’s still around here somewhere?”

  The emperor. In the chaos, Cress had forgotten all about him.

  “Sirens.”

  Cress looked at Wolf. His head was cocked to one side.

  “Heading this direction.”

  “Which means the military won’t be far behind,” said Cinder. “I take it there’s no sign of Jacin?”

  No one responded. There had been no sign of their getaway pilot since the fight had started. Cress licked her lips. Had he betrayed them? Had he told Sybil about their plan?

  “Figures,” said Cinder. “Thorne, you’re with me in the cockpit. Jacin and I practiced takeoffs … once. You can help jog my memory.”

  Together, they hurried to carry Iko’s broken body and Kai, still unconscious, into the cargo bay.

  Then they heard laughter. High, strained laughter that dropped ice down Cress’s spine.

  Sybil was struggling to stand. She made it to her feet and took a couple wobbling steps, before falling back down
to one knee. She laughed again and bunched her fists into her long, unruly hair.

  Cress was suddenly pushed aside as Wolf trudged down the ramp and grasped Sybil by the front of her white coat, yanking her toward him. Her eyes rolled back into her head. “Where is she?” he yelled. “Is she still alive?”

  Even from the top of the ramp, Cress could see the hatred burning in his eyes, overshadowed only by his need to know. To be given any sliver of hope that Scarlet was still out there. That he still had a chance to save her.

  But Sybil’s head only collapsed to one side. “What—what pretty birds!” she said, before she was overcome with a fit of incoherent giggles.

  Wolf snarled, baring his teeth. For a moment, his entire body was shaking and Cress thought he was going to tear her throat out. But then he dropped Sybil to the ground. She fell hard, whimpered from the impact, and rolled onto her back. Then she started to laugh again, staring up at the sky. The sun was just setting, but the full moon had already risen high over the city’s skyline.

  Turning away from her, Wolf marched up the ramp. He did not meet Cress’s gaze as he passed her.

  Cress stared, bewildered, as Sybil raised both arms up toward the sky. Cackling. Cackling.

  The ramp started to rise, slowly blocking the sight of Sybil and the bleeding guards who were scattered around the rooftop. The roar of the engines soon drowned out both the mad laughter and the sirens blaring beyond the palace walls.

  Fifty-Six

  To anyone who would have seen her, Levana was a vision of serenity in her ethereal red wedding gown and the sheer gold veil that fell to her wrists. She sat on the settee in her guest quarters, posture perfect, her hands folded in her lap.

  Except they were not folded at all, but rather balled into angry fists.

  Each one held a wedding band. One that she had worn for far too many years, that she had once believed would bring her love and happiness, but had only ever brought her pain.

  The other was supposed to bring her, not the love of a blind, selfish husband, but the love of an entire planet. She should have been wearing it now.

  Everything had been going so well. She had been moments away from walking down that aisle. Moments away.

  She should have been married. She should have been reciting the vows that would make her empress.

  When she found out who was responsible for this delay, she would torment their fragile mind until they were a drooling, pathetic idiot, terrified of the sight of their own hands.

  A knock cut through the fantasy. Levana shifted her eyes toward the door.

  “Enter.”

  One of her guards entered first, escorting Konn Torin, the young emperor’s annoying, perpetually present adviser. She glared at him through her gold veil, though she knew he couldn’t see it.

  “Your Illustrious Majesty,” he said, bowing deeply. The addition of a new adjective combined with the bow slightly lower than usual made the hair prickle on the back of her neck. “I must apologize most severely for the delay, and for the news I have to impart to you. We have been forced, I’m afraid, to postpone the marriage ceremony.”

  “I do beg your pardon.”

  He straightened, but kept his gaze respectfully on the floor.

  “His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Kaito, has been kidnapped. He was taken from his personal quarters and smuggled onto an untraceable spaceship.”

  Her fingers curled around the wedding bands. “By whom?”

  “Linh Cinder, Your Majesty. The cyborg fugitive from the ball. Along with multiple accomplices, it would appear.”

  Linh Cinder.

  Every time she heard the name she wanted to spit.

  “I see,” she said, finding it too wearisome to soften the hardness of her anger. “Am I to believe that you did not have any security measures in place for the attempt of such an assault?”

  “Our security was compromised.”

  “Compromised.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  She rose to her feet. The gown swished like a breeze around her hips. The adviser didn’t flinch, although he should have.

  “You’re telling me that this teenage girl has not only escaped from your prison and evaded capture by your highly trained military, but has now invaded your palace and the private quarters of the emperor himself, kidnapped him, and again gotten away with it?”

  “Precisely correct, Your Majesty.”

  “And what are you doing now to retrieve my groom?”

  “We have employed every police and military unit at our dispo—”

  “NOT GOOD ENOUGH.”

  This time, he did flinch.

  Levana steadied her breathing. “The Commonwealth has failed too many times with regards to Linh Cinder. Beginning now, I will employ my own resources and tactics in finding her. My guards will need to review all your security footage from the past forty-eight hours.”

  The adviser clasped his hands behind his back. “We are happy to give you access to the security footage we have available. However, we are missing approximately two hours of footage that was compromised this afternoon by the security breach.”

  She sneered. “Fine. Bring me what you do have.”

  Thaumaturge Aimery Park appeared in the doorway. “Your Majesty. If I may request a word with you, in private.”

  “With pleasure.” She waved a hand at Konn Torin. “You’re dismissed, but note that the incompetence of your security team will not be ignored.”

  With no argument, and another low bow, the adviser left.

  As soon as he was gone, Levana whipped the veil off her head and threw it onto the settee. “The young emperor has been kidnapped, and from his own palace. Earthens are pathetic. It’s amazing they haven’t already become extinct.”

  “I do not disagree, Your Majesty. I trust Mr. Konn did not inform you of this evening’s other interesting development?”

  “What development?”

  Aimery’s eyes danced. “It appears that Dr. Sage Darnel is in this palace, trapped in a quarantine room in the research wing.”

  “Sage Darnel?” She paused. “Daring to return after he assisted the escape of that wretched girl?”

  “No doubt they’ve been working together, although I’ve been led to believe that Dr. Darnel won’t be around for much longer. It appears he’s contracted an unusual strain of letumosis, one that seems to be much faster acting than the common strain. And, of course, he is Lunar.”

  Her pulse skipped. This did open up some interesting possibilities.

  “Take me to him,” she said, sliding her true wedding ring back onto her finger. The other, that would cement her to Emperor Kaito, she left behind.

  “I must warn you,” Aimery said as she followed him into the corridor, “that the elevators throughout the palace are malfunctioning. We’ll be forced to take the stairs.”

  “Earthens,” she growled, lifting the hem of her skirt.

  It was like traversing an endless labyrinth, but finally they reached the research wing. A crowd of officials had gathered outside the lab and Levana sneered to think that they’d intended to keep this from her when Sage Darnel, like Linh Cinder, was her problem to deal with, however it pleased her.

  As she entered the lab room, she slipped into the minds of the men and women around her and impressed a strong need to be elsewhere.

  The room was cleared within seconds, but for her and Aimery.

  It was a crisp, chemical-smelling room. All bright lights and hard edges. And on the other side of a tinted window, Dr. Sage Darnel was laid out on a lab table, holding a gray cap against his stomach.

  With the exception of the security footage that showed him helping Linh Cinder escape from prison, Levana hadn’t seen him since he disappeared over a decade ago. Once, he had been one of her most promising scientists, making grand advances in the development of her lupine soldiers on an almost monthly basis.

  But time had not been kind to him. His face had become worn and wrinkled. He was balding, and w
hat was left of his hair was tufted and gray. And then there was the disease. His reptilian skin was covered in bruise-like blotches and a rash that was bubbling up like blisters, piling on top of each other. His fingertips had already begun to turn blue. No, he would not be around much longer.

  Levana floated toward the window. A light was on beside a microphone, indicating that communication was open between the two rooms.

  “My good Dr. Darnel. I did not think I would ever again have the pleasure.”

  His eyes opened, still fervently blue behind his spectacles. His attention was locked on the ceiling, and though it occurred to Levana that this was no doubt a one-way window, it annoyed her that he wouldn’t bother to face her.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, his tone brittle. “I thought I might hear your voice one more time.”

  Beside her, Aimery checked a portscreen at his belt, and excused himself with a low bow.

  “I must say, I’m delighted with this irony. You left an honorable position on Luna to come to Earth and devote your last withering years to finding a cure for this disease. A disease that I already have the antidote for. In fact … come to think of it, I might have some samples with me in the palace. I like to keep them on hand in the event something tragic should happen to my betrothed, or someone else necessary to my objectives. I could have the antidote brought to you, but I don’t suppose I will.”

  “Worry not, My Queen. I would not take it from you even if you did, now that I know what lengths you’ve gone to obtain it.”

  “The lengths I’ve gone to? In order to cure a disease that, until this day, did not affect my own people? I do believe that’s rather charitable of me, wouldn’t you say?”

  He slowly, slowly sat up. His head fell to his chest as he tried to recapture his breath, winded from that small exertion. “I’ve figured it out, My Queen. I truly believed that all shells were killed when you took them from us, but that’s not true. Are any of them killed, or is it all just a show? A means of putting them into seclusion and harvesting their blood without anyone coming to look for them?”

  Her lashes fluttered. “You had a shell child once, didn’t you? Remind me—was it a little boy or a little girl? Perhaps when I return home I can find them and tell them how small and pathetic their father was when he died right before my eyes.”