Her hair clung to the back of her neck.
Check. Check.
Done.
Cress cleared the screens, disguising her motives with a few hasty commands.
The door crashed open. Guards filed in.
Confused silence.
Squeezed into the alcove between the bank of screens and the transmitter’s mainframe, Cress held her breath.
“Spread out—and get tech up here to find out what she did!”
“She left a portscreen,” said someone else, and she heard a subtle clacking on the desk as they picked it up. Trembling, Cress looked down at the gun cradled in her hands. Her stomach was knotted again. She couldn’t help feeling like she’d grabbed the wrong thing. They would know the portscreen was Kai’s easy enough. They would know he’d helped her. “Maybe she was planning on coming back.”
“You, stay here and wait for tech. And I want a guard posted at every door in this wing until she’s found. Go!”
The door slammed shut and Cress released a shaky breath, wilting from the surge of adrenaline.
She was trapped. Thorne was captured.
But they had been heroic.
Seventy-Seven
Jacin had gone back outside by the time Winter finished cleaning the slippery gel-like substance out of her hair. She changed into the dry clothes someone had brought for her.
She could not stop smiling. Jacin was back and he was alive.
And yet, at the same time, her heart ached. People were going to die today.
She checked her arms. The rash was already receding. At least, some of the bruises looked not quite as dark, and the blue had disappeared from beneath her fingernails.
When she left the security of the washroom, she found the clinic crammed full of people—the one doctor and a dozen civilians checking on the patients who had been too ill to line up for the antidote outside. Seven deaths, she’d been told. In the short time since Levana had infected Winter, seven people in this sector had died from letumosis.
It would have been many more if Jacin and Cinder hadn’t arrived, but Winter was hardly comforted. Seven deaths. Seven people who could have been in the suspension tank if they hadn’t given it to her.
Winter passed the patients slowly, taking the time to smile and offer a comforting squeeze of a shoulder as she made her way to the exit. She emerged on the little wooden step.
A whooping cheer swelled up in the dome, hundreds of voices buffeting her.
Winter froze, then backed into the building’s overhang again. The crowd continued to cheer, shaking their makeshift weapons over their heads. The wolf soldiers started to howl. Winter wondered if she, too, should cheer. Or howl. Or if they expected her to speak—though her throat still felt chapped and her brain was still muddled.
Scarlet appeared beside her, waving her arms in an attempt to quiet the crowd. She looked both pleased and annoyed as she faced Winter. The evidence of the plague still lingered on Scarlet’s pale skin—freckles mixed with bruises and irritated flesh. Though there were still a few dark blisters, the disease had not escalated as quickly on Scarlet as it had on Winter and those seven poor residents. They all knew she’d gotten lucky.
“What’s happening?” Winter asked.
“Cinder and the alphas are discussing strategy,” said Scarlet. “The coronation is scheduled to begin any minute now. People are getting restless. Plus, everyone loves you—surprise, surprise—and they’ve been waiting to see that you’re all right.”
Winter risked a smile, and the people cheered again. Someone whistled and another soldier howled.
Winter caught sight of a figure in the corner of her eye—Jacin was leaning against the clinic’s wall, watching her with a knowing smirk. “They haven’t started composing ballads in your honor yet,” he said, “but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.”
“Cress did it!” Cinder yelled. She came charging through the crowd, a cluster of soldiers in tow. The people parted for her. “The barriers in the maglev tunnels are down. There’s nothing else to bar our way into Artemisia. There’s nothing stopping us from demanding that Levana be brought to justice!”
Another cheer, twice as loud as before, billowed up and vibrated through the ground and echoed off the dome.
Winter cast her gaze over the crowd, her heart expanding like a balloon. The people stared at Cinder with awe and clarity and the faint glow of hope. She’d never seen that before in the eyes of the citizens of Luna. Their faces were always obscured by fear and uncertainty. Or, even worse, gazing at her stepmother with dazed adoration. Love for their ruler forced upon them—a reminder that they had no freedom, not even in their own minds or hearts.
This was different. The people weren’t blinded by Cinder’s glamour or being manipulated into seeing her as their rightful queen. They were seeing her as she truly was.
“Alpha Strom, the map,” said Cinder, with an excited gesture.
Strom handed her a holograph node and Cinder pulled up an image that everyone could see, outlining the path they would take into the capital.
“We’re going to divide into two groups to allow for faster passage through the tunnels,” she said, indicating the routes on the map. “When we reach AR-4 and AR-6, we’ll divide our numbers further to disperse between the eight entrances into Artemisia. At every sector we pass, we’ll need volunteers to rally as many people to our cause as possible. Gather weapons and supplies, then keep moving. Remember, our safety lies in numbers. She keeps the sectors divided for a reason. She knows that she’s powerless if we all stand together, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”
Another roar from the crowd, but Cinder—wild-eyed and exhilarated—had already turned toward the steps.
Winter straightened, for once proud to be standing before her queen.
“We’ve seen evidence that at least eighty-seven other sectors have joined our cause, and I have every reason to believe that number has continued to increase. With the shuttles down, that terrain-speeder is the best method we have for spreading our news quickly and ensuring that all civilians are joined into one solid force moving into Artemisia. Jacin, I’ve made a list of sectors I want you to go to—those that showed evidence of rebellion already and should have access to weapons. Also those closest to Artemisia that offer a solid hope for increasing our numbers fast. Hit as many as you can in the next two hours, then meet us in the tunnels beneath AR-4 at—”
“No.”
Cinder blinked. Her lips stayed half-wrapped around an unspoken word. She blinked again. “Excuse me?”
“I won’t leave Winter.”
A shiver coursed over Winter’s skin, but Jacin didn’t look at her.
Mouth still open, Cinder looked at Winter, then Scarlet, then back at Jacin. She shut her mouth with a scowl and turned to Scarlet again. “Can you fly it?”
“I’ve never even seen one of those things before. Does it fly like a spaceship?”
Cinder’s withering glare returned to Jacin. “I need you to do it. I trust you, and—”
“I said no.”
She shook her head, disbelieving. Then angry. “What do you think is going to happen to Winter, to any of us, if we lose?”
Jacin crossed his arms, ready to argue again, when Winter placed a hand on his shoulder.