“Is he fit to serve the queen?”
The technician peered at Wolf. He crumpled the cup in his fist. She gulped and slid back a step.
“As capable as any other soldier. I suggest getting some food into him before putting him on active duty. And of course, usually they spend months training with a thaumaturge after the surgeries are complete, so their master can learn their bioelectric patterns and how best to control them—”
“They are not made to be controlled.”
The technician frowned. “I realize that. But they can be taught obedience. He’s a loaded weapon. I wouldn’t recommend bringing him into a room full of people without anyone first being able to handle him.”
“Does it not look like I can handle him?”
The technician’s attention danced from the thaumaturge to Wolf to the crumpled cup in his fist. She lifted her hands. “I’m just here to make sure their bodies don’t reject the modifications.”
Wolf ran a tongue along the sharp point of his canine tooth. It had taken him months to get used to the implants and now they felt all wrong again. Too big. Too sharp. There was a dull ache through his entire jaw.
The thaumaturge paced around the tank. “Alpha Ze’ev Kesley, you are once again a soldier in the queen’s army. Unfortunately, your pack of special operatives disbanded after the first attack on Paris and we do not have time to get you reacquainted with a new one. For now, you will be serving as a lone wolf.”
She smiled. Wolf did not.
“I am Thaumaturge Bement, but you will refer to me as Mistress,” she continued. “You have been granted a great honor. The queen wishes you to be a part of her personal entourage during her coronation, in which she is to be crowned empress of the Eastern Commonwealth of Earth. As you have a history of rebellious tendencies, she feels your presence, serving as a loyal soldier, will send a message to any who would dare threaten the crown. Can you guess what that message is?”
Wolf said nothing.
Thaumaturge Bement’s tone turned to a whispered threat. “Once the queen has claimed you, you are forever hers.” She tapped her fingers against the rim of the tank. “Let’s see if you can remember that this time.”
She waited for a response. When there wasn’t one, her eyes narrowed. “Have you forgotten your training? When you are addressed by your thaumaturge, your proper response is?”
“Yes, Mas—Mistress.” It felt like the words were being pulled up from him, the words a reflex drilled into him from years and years under Thaumaturge Jael. Rip his still-beating heart from his chest.
Wolf cringed and his mouth started to water. He was hungry.
“Who do you serve, Alpha Kesley?”
Who did he serve?
The queen’s beautiful face rose up in his memory, seated upon her throne. Watching the packs fight to gain favor. He had desired to impress her. He had killed for her. He had been proud.
“I serve my queen,” he said, his voice stronger.
“That’s correct.” Bement leaned over the tank, but Wolf didn’t look away. He was salivating now. He could smell the blood pumping beneath the woman’s skin, but a memory of pain darted down his spine when he thought of tasting her.
“I am told,” she said, “that you took for yourself a mate while you were on Earth.”
He tensed. Her red hair flashed through his thoughts.
“What would you do if you saw her today?”
He watched her being thrown against the statue. Crawling on her hands and knees. Staring at him with terrified, hate-filled eyes.
A growl rumbled deep in his throat. “Earthens have the sweetest flesh.”
The thaumaturge’s lips turned upward. “He’ll do fine.” Pushing away from the tank, she strode past the technician and her fallen companion. “Get him cleaned up. You know how Her Majesty likes to maintain appearances.”
Sixty-Five
Jacin, Cress, and Thorne had gone, leaving Cinder to cobble her way through Iko’s repairs. She knew immediately that she couldn’t get Iko back to normal. Not only had Iko given up her finger and some of the wires required for hand dexterity, but they also didn’t have the replacement parts or skin fibers to fix the tear in her shoulder or bullet hole in her chest. But Cinder managed to wrangle together a temporary skeletal patch and reconfigure the joints so she would be able to move her elbow and wrist, at least. When Iko swooned with relief, Cinder knew exactly what she was feeling—having complete loss of a limb was a difficult thing to get used to.
While Cinder worked, Iko explained to her how they’d managed to sneak into Artemisia aboard a supply train, how most of the shuttle system was down and the trains were being searched, how Levana was nervous, if not downright terrified.
When she was done, Cinder told her about being transported back to Artemisia and how they’d separated her and Wolf. How he hadn’t been at the trial, and how she had no idea where they’d taken him. She told Iko about seeing Kai in the throne room and how he looked unharmed, so far.
She asked if the broadcast had also shown Adri’s trial.
“Adri?” Iko’s lashes fluttered, for a beat, two beats, three, before she said, “I don’t compute.”
“Adri and Pearl are here, on Luna. Adri was put on trial before me—something about how she’s been keeping design patents for a weapon that could neutralize the Lunar gift. I think Levana’s found out about Garan’s invention, the one that was installed on my spine.”
Iko pressed her fingertips together in imitation of thoughtfulness. “I suppose it makes sense that Levana wouldn’t want such a thing to exist.”
“I know. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but such a device would change the balance of power between Luna and Earth, if it could be manufactured. If we’re ever going to have an alliance with Luna, a device like this would be the only way for Earthens to be sure they aren’t being manipulated.”
“That’s genius,” Iko said. “I always liked Garan. He was nice to me, even after they discovered my personality chip was faulty. He at least kept all my software updated. You know, until Adri had me disassembled.” She paused. “The first time.”
Cinder smiled to herself. The first time she’d seen Iko she’d been nothing more than a jumble of android parts thrown into a box, waiting to be put back together. Iko had been her first project, an attempt to prove her worth to her new stepfamily. She’d had no idea at the time that Iko would also become one of her dearest friends.
Her smile faded, turning to suspicion. “Iko, they stopped making software updates for Serv9.2s over a decade ago.”
Iko tugged on one of her braids. “I never thought about that. You don’t think he was trying to fix the bug that made me … me. Do you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. He designed android systems, after all. I’m sure if he wanted to reprogram you to be a regular android, he could have done it.” She hesitated. If Linh Garan hadn’t been updating Iko’s software or trying to fix her, what had he been doing? “I guess it doesn’t matter. Garan invented this device, but it sounds like Levana destroyed all his notes. If my own software wasn’t already damaged enough by Dr. Erland, I doubt that dip in the lake did it any good…” She trailed off, squinting at Iko.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Cinder shook her head. There were too many problems to fix, too many puzzles to solve. The mystery of Garan’s device would have to wait. “I just can’t imagine how Levana would have even known about the device in the first place, that’s all.”
“I told her.”
Cinder snapped her head toward the door, where Jacin was standing as still and quiet as the door frame itself, sporting a decent-size bruise on his jaw, compliments of Thorne. “You told her?”
“Information has value. I traded that piece for my life.”
It was always difficult to read Jacin’s emotions, but if Cinder had to guess, she would have thought he was incensed over making such a trade. She remembered telling Jacin about the device, ages ago, in t
he little oasis town of Farafrah. His face had taken on a curiosity that bordered on hunger when he learned there was an invention that could prevent a Lunar from using their gift and prevent their gift from driving them mad.
She stifled a gasp.
Winter.
Of course.
Jacin jerked his chin toward the hallway. “I hate to rush you, but the crown just released a new video that you might be interested in seeing. Evidently you’re dead.”
He and Iko led her to the mansion’s home theater, with enormous lounging chairs that each had a built-in beverage dispenser on its side. Thorne and Cress were standing beside a larger-than-life holograph depicting Levana. She was wearing her veil, but the sound was muted. The enormity of it made Cinder recoil.
“Jacin says they found my body?”
Thorne gave her a passing glance. “That’s the word, corpse girl. You were dredged up from the lake last night. They even have this mannequin thing with a painted metal hand and they keep showing a grainy photo of it. Stay around a while—you’ll see. It keeps looping with this speech from Levana. They have the most boring entertainment on this rock.”
“What is she saying?”
Thorne’s voice pitched high in imitation of the queen. “The impostor of my beloved niece is vanquished … Let us put this messiness behind us while we go forward with the coronations … I am a psychotic, power-hungry nut basket and my breath smells really bad under this veil.”
Cinder snickered. She tried to check the time with her internal clock before remembering it no longer worked. “How long until the coronation?”
“Nine hours,” said Iko.
Nine hours. They’d been in this mansion for an entire day and night and Cinder had been asleep for most of it.
“There’s also the ticker…” Cress pointed to the holograph, where a list of sectors was trekking across the bottom, making a constant floating ring around Levana.
“That’s the interesting part,” said Thorne. “She’s passed an edict that any sector found in violation of curfew or suspected of assisting ‘the impostor’ will be barricaded, to be dealt with on a case-by-case basis after the coronation. Then she goes on some spiel about repentance and begging their queen for mercy.”
“It seems a lot of people were motivated by your stunt at the wedding feast,” said Jacin. “The number of barricaded sectors keeps growing.”
“How many?”
“Eighty-seven at last count,” said Cress.
“Including RM-9,” added Thorne, “and every sector in its immediate surroundings. Rather than discouraging the rebellion, the raid there seems to have angered people even more.”
Eighty-seven at last count.
“And you think they’ve all … that all these sectors…” Cinder swallowed. Her head still felt foggy. “What do we think this means?”
“It means the queen is having a bad day,” said Jacin.
Thorne nodded. “Some of it could be her own paranoia, but even when Iko and I were trying to get into Artemisia there were rumors of some sectors blockading their own tunnels to keep supplies out of the city, or looting their factories for weapons, that sort of thing. And that was before your trial. Of course, we don’t know if the people believe you’re really dead, but I’m not sure it matters at this point. If you’re alive, then you’re one hell of a revolutionary. If you’re dead, then you’re one hell of a martyr.”
“It sort of matters to me,” Cinder said, watching the ticker scroll by.
Eighty-seven sectors had been ready to fight for her—for themselves. From what she’d seen, each sector housed at least a thousand civilians, and sometimes many times that. That should be more than enough to overwhelm the capital and overthrow Levana …
Except all those people were trapped.
“Don’t faint,” said Thorne.
She looked at him. “What?”
“You look stressed out.”
Glowering, Cinder started to pace. “Can we do something about these barricades? The people can’t come to our aid if they’re confined to their own sectors.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” said Thorne, “we are so far ahead of you. Cress?”
Cress pulled up the holograph of Luna they’d spent a lot of time studying aboard the Rampion—all the domes and subway tunnels laid out on the moon’s rocky, cratered surface. She had been tagging the barricaded sectors as they were listed on Levana’s broadcast. It was still only a fraction of all the sectors on Luna, but then, it was possible there were plenty more sectors in uprising that Levana didn’t know about yet.
Levana was focusing on those sectors closest to Artemisia, which made sense. No wonder she was nervous—the revolution had already crept up to her doorstep.
Cress adjusted the holograph, zooming in on Artemisia, then the palace.
“The barricade controls are a part of the main security network that operates out of the palace’s security center,” said Cress. “I could hack them remotely, but not without raising alarms. At least, not with the amount of time I have to do it. So…”
“We thought we’d break in,” said Thorne. He had claimed one of the lounge chairs and kicked up his feet.
“Of course you did,” said Cinder.
“We got into New Beijing Palace, we can get into this one. From there, Cress undoes the barricades on the outer sectors and schedules the security barriers around the central dome to open at the end of the coronation.” He filled an expensive-looking goblet with a blue drink from the chair’s dispenser and took a big gulp. “It’s the best way to coordinate a surprise attack and make sure everyone is entering Artemisia at the same time, even if we have no way of communicating with one another.”
Cress pulled back the holograph’s focus, highlighting the eight maglev tunnels that were the only passages in and out of the city—excepting the spaceship ports.
Cinder massaged her wrist. “It’s too risky to send you in. I’d rather Cress remove the barricades remotely, even if it does raise alarms.”
“That makes two of us,” said Thorne, “but that’s not the only reason we need to get into the palace. We also need access to the queen’s broadcast room if we want to do anything with that video of yours. Levana disabled all outside access to the system after your last stunt, so if we want to project it over the whole system, we have to do it from inside.”
Cinder inhaled sharply. “Is the video … is it worth it?”
“Oh!” Iko clapped her hands to her face. “It’s horrifying!”
Thorne grinned. “It’s a jackpot.”
“I’ll load it on the projector,” said Cress, turning toward the holograph node.
“Please, no,” said Iko, “we don’t need to see it that big again.”
Cinder tapped her foot. “How are you proposing we get into the palace? I can glamour all four of us as coronation guests if we wanted to sneak in—”
“Cool those engines, jet plane,” said Thorne. “You already have a job. While Cress and I are clearing the passages into the city, you, Iko, and Jacin are going to be stationed in these three sectors”—he indicated them on the holograph, three of the domes adjacent to Artemisia Central—“or at least in the tunnels underneath them, welcoming all those rebels you’ve stirred up and organizing what last-minute battle plan we can. In approximately nine hours, with any luck, this city is going to be under siege by a whole lot of angry Lunars. They’re going to need someone to lead them.”
“That’s you,” Iko clarified.
“But I thought this dome was cordoned off? How are we supposed to get out to those sectors if we’re stuck in here?”
“There are storage units not far from here,” said Jacin, “where some of the families keep recreational vehicles, including terrain speeders.”
“Terrain speeders?”
“Vehicles made for going outside the domes. They can adjust to the unmodified gravity and atmospheric conditions and handle difficult terrain. Dunes. Craters. Rich people use them for sport. They’re n
ot as fast as ships, but we can bypass the shuttles and cut a direct route to the nearest sectors, anywhere that has external dock access. Levana won’t care about a couple nobles out for a joyride.”
“We’re splitting up,” said Cinder.
Iko wrapped an arm around Cinder’s waist. “Only temporarily.”
“It’s our best hope for coordinating an attack,” said Thorne, “and getting as many people in front of that palace as possible, which is the whole point, isn’t it? Strength in numbers?”
Cinder’s heart was galloping again, but she managed a nod. She was studying the holograph again when an anomaly caught her eye. “What’s wrong with that sector?” she asked, pointing to one that was tinged red on the map.
Cress spun the holograph and brought the sector into focus. “LW-12, lumber and wood manufacturing. Quarantined?”
“Like a disease quarantine?” Cinder asked.
“That’s all we need,” Thorne muttered.
But Jacin was shaking his head. “It’s been a long time since we had an outbreak of any sort of disease on Luna. There aren’t many environmental influences that we can’t control.” He crossed his arms. “We do have measures in place in case something happens, though. With the domes confined like they are, it wouldn’t take much to take down a whole community if a disease was bad enough.”
“Could it be letumosis?” Iko asked, a tinge of fear vibrating in her voice.
“That’s an Earthen disease,” said Jacin. “We’ve never had any cases here.”
“It’s not just an Earthen disease,” said Cinder. “Not anymore. Dr. Erland discovered a mutated strain in Africa, remember? Lunars may not be immune anymore, and…” She gulped. “And a whole lot of Earthens just arrived on Luna. Anyone could be a carrier. One of the diplomats, or even one of us. We might not even know it.”
Jacin gestured to the holograph. “Have any of you gone into a lumber sector lately?”
Cinder pressed her lips.
“That’s what I thought. I doubt any of your political friends have, either. It’s probably a coincidence.”