Winter

Twenty-Three

Jacin was extra broody as Winter led him into the elevator.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” he grumbled, eyeing Winter suspiciously.

“You have a bad feeling about everything,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. It was a playful gesture, one that always made her giddy to have returned. This time, it was not returned. She frowned. “I forgot something down in the ports. It will only take a moment.”

She fluttered her lashes at him.

He scowled and looked away. He was in guard mode. Uniform. Posture. Inability to hold eye contact for more than half a second.

Guard Jacin was not her favorite Jacin, but she knew it was only a disguise, and one that was forced upon him.

She was itching to tell him the truth from the instant they’d left the ports. She was stricken with anxiety over the fate of the girl she’d ushered into that crate. Was she still in hiding? Did she try to run and rejoin her friends? Had she been found? Captured? Killed?

This girl was an ally of Linh Cinder’s, and perhaps a friend of her Scarlet’s as well. Fear for her life turned Winter into a pacing, fidgety mess for the two hours that she’d forced herself to wait in her chambers, so as not to draw attention to her return to the docks. Her awareness of the palace surveillance system kept her from telling the secret to even Jacin. It had been a difficult secret to retain.

But if she’d been acting odd, even Jacin didn’t ask her about it. No doubt the day’s excitement was plenty reason enough for her agitation.

“What was it?” Jacin asked.

Winter peeled her focus from the descending indicator above the elevator door. “Pardon?”

“What did you forget in the ports?”

“Oh. You’ll see.”

“Princess—”

The doors swished open. She grabbed his arm and pulled him through the lavish gallery where Artemisians could await their transport. This level was abandoned, just as she’d hoped. Though it had been easy for Winter to gain access to the ports from the guard in the palace above—it had taken little more than a pout and defiantly ignoring Jacin’s groan—the ports were supposed to be off-limits for the duration of the Earthens’ visit. For the security of their ships and belongings, Levana had said, but Winter knew it was really to prevent anyone from trying to leave.

The ports were quiet when they stepped onto the main platform. The glowing floor made the ships’ shadows appear monstrous on the high ceilings, and the cavernous walls echoed every footstep, every breath. Winter imagined she could hear her own thunderous heartbeat ricocheting back to her.

She took off around the platform with Jacin following at a fast clip. She couldn’t help glancing toward the control booth, and though there remained a broken screen and a few dark stains on the wall, the technician’s body was gone. To her knowledge, his replacements were still in the palace’s main control center trying to regain access to the malfunctioning system.

Her attention swept down to the lower level and endless relief filled her to see the cargo untouched. Though the ambassadors’ personal luggage had been taken to their suites, their gifts and trade goods had been left behind for retrieval at a later date.

Winter spotted the box of Argentinian wine. Her pace quickened.

“Stars above,” Jacin grumbled. “If you dragged me down here for more packing paper—”

“Paper,” said Winter, scrambling unladylike over the cargo boxes, “is a most difficult resource to obtain. The lumber sectors have enough demand for building supplies. I once had to trade a pair of silk slippers for half a dozen greeting cards, you know.”

It was only partly true. Most of the paper goods available in Artemisia’s shops were made from pulped bamboo, which was one of the few resources that grew with abundance in the agriculture sectors. But bamboo also contributed to textile and furniture manufacturing, and even that paper was in limited supply.

Winter was fond of paper. She liked the crisp, tactile way it crinkled beneath her fingers.

Jacin sat down on a plastic bin, his legs dangling over the edge. In the serene solitude of the docks, Guard Jacin had withdrawn. “You want to turn packing paper into greeting cards?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I have no interest in the paper.”

One eyebrow rose. “The wine, then?”

Winter unlatched the shipping crate. “Not the wine, either.”

She held her breath and heaved open the lid. It clattered against the next bin and Winter found herself staring into a large shipping crate with a layer of tight-packed wine bottles and loose bits of paper and no sign of the girl.

Her heart plummeted.

“What?” Jacin leaned forward to peer into the box. His face took on a layer of concern. “Princess?”

Her lips parted, then snapped shut again. She turned in a slow circle, examining the crates stacked all around her. The girl could have sneaked into any of them.

Or she could have run.

Or she could already have been found by someone else.

Jacin dropped down from his perch and grabbed her elbow. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s gone,” Winter murmured.

“She?”

“There was—” She hesitated. Her gaze darted up to one of the many inconspicuous cameras along the dock’s perimeter. Though the queen would have demanded them to be disabled while she was there, Winter had no idea if or when they’d been reinstated.

Jacin bristled, with impatience but also worry. Checking for the cameras was the first sign someone was going against the queen’s wishes. After a quick sweep of the ceiling, he shook his head. “No indicator lights. They’re still off.” He was frowning as he said it, though. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Winter swallowed. “There was a girl. I think she came with Linh Cinder and her companions. I saw her sneaking around these crates while the queen was arguing with the technician, so I hid her in here. But … now she’s gone.”

Jacin rocked back on his heels. Winter expected him to chastise her for doing something so dangerous and right in front of the queen, no less. But instead, after a long hesitation, he asked, “What did she look like?”

“Small. Short blonde hair. Afraid.” Remembering the girl’s terrified expression made Winter shiver. “Maybe she tried to rejoin her companions. Or … or maybe she’s back on the emperor’s ship?”

Jacin’s gaze had unfocused. “Cress,” he whispered, turning around. He released Winter’s elbow and bounded back up the crates, vaulting onto the platform overhead.

“What? Jacin?” She lifted her skirt over her knees and hurried after him. By the time she’d managed to get back up onto the platform, Jacin was in the control booth, yanking open cabinets filled with wires and cords and computer parts that Winter didn’t comprehend.

He found the girl behind the third door he opened, her body curled into such a tight ball Winter couldn’t believe she hadn’t suffocated. Her wide eyes attached to Jacin and widened, impossibly, further.

Winter staggered to a halt as Jacin reached into the cabinet and pulled the girl out. The girl yelped, trying to regain her footing as Jacin shoved the door shut behind her. She pried her arm out of his grip and backed against the wall, trembling like a caged animal.

Rather than reaching for her again, Jacin took a step back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He cursed. “Princess, you have got to stop collecting these rebels.”

Ignoring him, Winter drifted toward the girl, her hands placating. “We won’t hurt you,” she cooed. “It’s all right.”

The girl spared her a hasty glance before turning back to Jacin. Terrified, but also angry.

“My name is Winter,” she said. “Are you hurt?”

“We can’t stay here,” said Jacin. “The cameras will be coming on again any minute. It’s a miracle they haven’t already.”

The girl continued to stare at him with her timid ferocity.

“Wait.” Jacin laughed. “You disabled them, didn’t you?”

The girl said nothing.

Winter swiveled her attention from her to Jacin. “She disabled them?”

“This girl used to be the queen’s best-kept secret. She can find her way around any computer system.” He crossed his arms, his stern expression softening into an almost smile. “You’re the one who’s been messing with the shuttles too.”

The girl’s lips thinned into a line.

“What’s your name?” asked Winter.

When the girl still didn’t respond, Jacin answered, “Her name is Cress. She’s a shell and one of Linh Cinder’s allies.” He scratched his temple. “I don’t suppose you have a plan as to what we’re supposed to do with her?”

“We could sneak her up to the guest wing? I’m sure the Earthen emperor would watch over her. He did help them get here, after all.”

Jacin shook his head. “He’s under too much security. We’d never get her close. Besides, the fewer people who know you helped her, the less chance of Levana finding out.”

The girl—Cress—seemed to be relaxing as it became apparent Winter and Jacin weren’t going to have her executed. Winter smiled at her. “I’ve never met a shell before. What a marvelous gift. I can’t sense you at all, like you’re not even there, even though you’re standing right in front of me.” Her grin broadened. “That would drive my stepmother mad.”

“It was a shell who killed the last king and queen,” said Jacin. “Maybe we can turn her into an assassin.”

Winter turned to him, aghast. “Does she look like an assassin?”

He shrugged. “Does she look like she’s capable of disabling our entire maglev system?”

“I didn’t disable it.” Cress’s voice was meek, but Winter was so surprised to hear her speak, she might as well have shouted. “I changed the access parameters so the queen couldn’t shut it down.”

Jacin stared at her. “But you could disable it, if you wanted to.”

After a beat, the girl dropped her gaze to the floor.

“We have to find someplace to keep her,” said Winter, tugging on a curl of hair. “Somewhere safe.”

“Why?” said Cress. “Why are you helping me?”

Winter didn’t know if she was asking her or Jacin, but Jacin answered first with a grumbled “Good question.”

Winter shoved him hard in the shoulder. He barely shifted.

“Because it’s the right thing to do. We’re going to protect you. Aren’t we, Jacin?”

When Jacin said nothing, Winter shoved him again. “Aren’t we?”

Jacin sighed. “I think we can sneak her into the guard quarters. It’s not far and we won’t have to go into the main part of the castle.”

With obvious disbelief, Cress said, “You’re going to protect me?”

“Rather against my will,” said Jacin, “but it looks like it.”

“For as long as we can,” said Winter. “And, if the opportunity arises, we’ll do our best to reunite you with your friends.”

For the first time, Cress’s defenses began to slip. “They got away?”

“It would seem so. They haven’t been found yet, as far as I can tell.”

“But the queen won’t stop looking,” added Jacin, as if either of them weren’t aware.

Cress had stopped trembling. Her expression became thoughtful as she stared at Jacin. Finally, she asked, “I don’t suppose the guard quarters have access to the royal broadcasting network?”