Winter

Thirty-Two

Cinder was losing her mind. They had been hiding in Maha Kesley’s tiny shack for days. Wolf and his mother, Thorne, Iko, and herself, all crammed into little rooms, tripping over one another every time they tried to move. Though they didn’t move much. There was nowhere to go. They were afraid to be heard through the small, glassless windows, so they communicated mostly in hand signals and messages tapped out on their one remaining portscreen. The silence was horrendous. The stillness was suffocating. The waiting, agony.

She thought often of Cress and Scarlet and wondered if either of them was alive.

She worried about Kai as the wedding loomed ever closer.

There was guilt too. Not only had they put Maha in danger by being there, they were also eating far too much food, having already burned through the measly packs they’d brought with them. Maha said nothing about it, but Cinder could tell. Food was strictly rationed in the outer sectors, and Maha was barely able to feed herself.

They spent their days trying to rework their plan, but after all the plotting they’d done aboard the Rampion, Cinder was disheartened to be back at square one. The video they’d recorded remained unused—copies of it downloaded not only to the portscreen, but to Cinder’s and Iko’s internal computers too. It didn’t matter how many copies of it they had. Without Cress being there to tap into the broadcasting system, the video was useless.

They discussed starting a grassroots movement. Maha Kesley could spread the word of Selene’s return to the laborers in the mine and let the news spread from there. Or they could send messengers through the tunnels, scrawling messages on the tunnel walls. But these were slow strategies, with too much risk for miscommunication and little chance the news would spread far.

There was a reason Levana kept her people isolated from one another. There was a reason no one had attempted a cohesive rebellion yet, not because they didn’t want to. It was clear from the government-sanctioned propaganda that Levana and her ancestors had sought to brainwash the Lunar people into a belief that their rule was righteous and fated. It was equally clear from the tunnel graffiti and the people’s downcast eyes that they no longer believed it, if they ever had.

Any spark of defiance may have been starved and threatened out of them, but the more Lunars Cinder saw, the more she believed she could reignite them.

All she needed was a way to talk to them.

Maha had gone to the maglev platform to wait in line for her weekly rations, leaving the rest of them staring at a holographic map of Luna. It had been over an hour, but few suggestions had been posed.

Cinder was beginning to feel hopeless, and all the while, the clock was ticking. To the wedding. To the coronation. To their inevitable discovery.

An unexpected chorus of chimes made Cinder jump. The map faded, the feed overridden by a mandatory message being broadcast from the capital. Cinder knew that the same message would be playing on a dozen embedded screens on the dome outside, making sure that every citizen saw it.

Head Thaumaturge Aimery Park appeared before them, handsome and arrogant. Cinder recoiled. The holograph made it seem as though he were in the room with them.

“Good people of Luna,” he said, “please stop what you are doing and listen to this announcement. I am afraid we have tragic news to impart. Earlier today, Her Royal Highness, Princess Winter Hayle-Blackburn, stepdaughter of Her Majesty the Queen, was found murdered in the royal menagerie.”

Cinder’s brow furrowed and she traded frowns with her companions. She knew little about the princess, only that she was said to be beautiful and the people loved her, which must mean Levana hated her. She had heard of the princess’s scarred face, a punishment inflicted by the queen herself, or so the rumors went.

“We are reviewing security footage in an attempt to bring the murderer to justice, and we will not rest until our beloved princess is avenged. Though our devoted queen is devastated at this loss, she wishes to proceed with her wedding ceremony as scheduled, so we might have joy in this time of sadness. A funeral procession for Her Highness will be scheduled for the coming weeks. Princess Winter Hayle-Blackburn will be missed by us all, but never forgotten.”

Aimery’s face disappeared.

“Do you think Levana killed her?” Iko asked.

“Of course I do,” Cinder said. “I wonder what the princess did to anger her.”

Thorne folded his arms. “I’m not sure you have to do anything to earn Levana’s wrath.”

He looked ragged, unshaven and weary, even more so than the day Cinder had met him in New Beijing Prison. Though no one had dared to talk about abandoning Cress, Cinder knew he was taking her loss harder than any of them. She’d sensed from the moment they were reunited in Farafrah that Thorne felt a responsibility toward Cress, but for the first time she was beginning to wonder if his feelings didn’t go deeper than that.

Wolf’s head suddenly snapped up, his eyes locking on the fabric-covered window.

Cinder went rigid, ready to load a bullet into her finger or use her Lunar gift to defend herself and her friends—whatever this unseen threat called for. She felt the tension rise around her. Everyone falling silent, watching Wolf.

His nose twitched. His brow drew closer, doubtful. Suspicious.

“Wolf?” Cinder prodded.

He sniffed again and his eyes brightened.

Then he was gone—hurling himself past the group and tearing open the front door.

Cinder jumped to her feet. “Wolf! What are you—”

Too late. The door slammed shut behind him. She cursed. This was not the time for her mutant wolf ally to start running around and drawing attention to himself.

She yanked on her boots to chase after him.

* * *

Scarlet landed the ship in a tiny underground port that had only two ancient delivery ships already inside. Once the chamber had been sealed, two blinding lightbulbs lit up the ceiling, one of them with a sporadic flicker. Scarlet got out first, scanning every corner, inspecting beneath each ship. Empty.

There were two enormous freight elevators and three stairwells leading to the surface, labeled RM-8, RM-9, RM-11.

Every surface was covered in dust.

“You coming?” she called to Winter, who had made it so far as opening the podship door. The princess’s hair was a tangled mess and her skirt crusted with blood. The tablecloth they’d stolen had slipped down around her shoulders. Whereas the escape had filled Scarlet with adrenaline, it had left Winter drained. Her head bobbed as she pulled herself out of the ship.

Scarlet planted her hands on her hips, her patience stretched to near breaking. “Do I have to carry you?”

Winter shook her head. “You don’t think we were followed?”

“I’m hoping no one has figured out we’re missing yet.” Scarlet read the signs again, the letters almost undetectable beneath the dust. “Not that we have a whole lot of options at this point, even if we were followed.”

Scarlet turned back and tightened the tablecloth around Winter’s waist so it looked like an ill-fitting skirt, covering the blood, then she unzipped her hoodie and helped Winter into the sleeves. She tucked the princess’s voluminous hair back and pulled the hood over her face as well as she could. “Not great, but better than nothing.”

“Do you think he’s dead yet?”

Scarlet paused in the middle of zipping up the hoodie again. Winter peered back at her, looking small and vulnerable.

She sighed. “He’s smart and he’s strong. He’ll be all right.” She tugged the zipper up to Winter’s throat. “Come on.”

When they emerged on the surface, protected beneath the enormous dome, Scarlet paused to get her bearings. She had looked up the Kesley address on the ship’s database, though the series of numbers and letters made no sense to her.

The spaceship port was meant for freight and this entrance was situated between two warehouses, one wall lined with carts that were heaped to overflowing with chipped black rock. Not far away was an enormous cavern opening up into what looked like a mine or rock quarry. Regolith Mining, the sector map had said.

Were Wolf’s parents miners? Would Wolf have become a miner, too, if he hadn’t been conscripted into the army? It was impossible to imagine a life in which he lived here, on this moon, beneath this dome, and never came to Earth. Never met her.

“This doesn’t appear to be residential,” she muttered.

“Residences are usually in the outer rings of each sector,” said Winter.

“Outer ring. Right.” Scarlet scanned the squat warehouses. “Which way is that?”

Winter pointed up at the dome that encapsulated them. Even with the surrounding buildings, it was clear where the dome’s highest point was and where it rounded out toward the edges.

Scarlet turned away from the dome’s center.

As they walked, she tried to cobble together a plan. First, find where the people lived. Second, figure out how their homes were addressed and find the home of Wolf’s parents. Third, stumble through an awkward conversation in which she tried to explain to them who she was and why they had to shelter her and Winter.

When the industrial buildings gave way to ramshackle homes, Scarlet was relieved to see address numbers painted on the concrete in front of each building, faded from years of foot traffic. “A-49, A-50,” she murmured to herself, quickening her pace. The next circle of houses were labeled with Bs. “Easy enough. The Kesley house was D-313, right? So we’ll head to the row of Ds and…”

She glanced back.

Winter was gone.

Cursing, Scarlet spun in a full circle, but there was no sign of the princess. “You can’t be serious,” she growled, backtracking her steps. She’d been so immersed in finding the house, she couldn’t recall hearing Winter beside her since she’d left the warehouses behind. She’d probably wandered off, strung along by some hallucination …

Scarlet paused, catching sight of the princess down an alley. She was wedged between two factories and mesmerized by a metal shaft that poked out of one of the buildings. Broken white rock tumbled out of it into a cart below.

The red hood was still pulled over the princess’s face and a great cloud of dust was billowing around her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Huffing, Scarlet squared her shoulders and started marching toward her, ready to drag the crazy girl away by her hair if she had to. She hadn’t crossed half the distance, though, when Winter’s head snapped around, away from Scarlet.

Scarlet’s pace slowed, dread pulsing through her as she, too, heard the footsteps. Pounding footsteps, like someone was running at full speed toward them.

She reached for the knife Jacin had given her.

“Winter,” she hissed—but either she was too far away, or the noise of the clattering rock and machinery was too loud. “Winter!”

A man barreled around a corner, heading straight for the princess. Winter tensed half a second before he reached her. Grabbing Winter’s elbow, he yanked back the red hood.

Scarlet gasped. Her knees weakened. The man stared at Winter with a mixture of confusion and disappointment and maybe even anger, all locked up in eyes so vividly green Scarlet could see them glowing from here.

She was the one hallucinating now.

She took a stumbling, uncertain step forward. Wanting to run toward him, but terrified it was a trick. Her hand tightened around the knife handle as Wolf, ignoring how Winter was trying to pull away, grabbed her arm and smelled the filthy red sleeve of Scarlet’s hoodie, streaked with dirt and blood.

He growled, ready to tear the princess apart. “Where did you get this?”

So desperate, so determined, so him. The knife slipped out of Scarlet’s hand.

Wolf’s attention snapped up to her.

“Wolf?” she whispered.

His eyes brightened, wild and hopeful.

Releasing Winter, he strode forward. His tumultuous eyes scooped over her. Devoured her.

When he was in arm’s reach, Scarlet almost collapsed into him, but at the last moment she had the presence of mind to step back. She planted a hand on his chest.

Wolf froze, hurt flickering across his face.

“I’m sorry,” said Scarlet, her voice teetering with exhaustion. “It’s just … I smell so awful, I can hardly stand to be around myself right now, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you and your sense of sm—”

Batting her hand away, Wolf dug his fingers into Scarlet’s hair and crushed his mouth against hers. Her protests died with a muffled gasp.

This time, she did collapse, her legs unable to hold her a second longer. Wolf fell with her, dropping to his knees to break Scarlet’s fall and cradling her body against his.

He was here. He was here.

She was crying when she broke away, and part of her hated that, and part of her felt like it was long overdue. “How?”

“I smelled you.” Wolf was grinning so wide she could see the sharp teeth he normally tried to hide. It had been a long time since she’d seen him so happy.

Actually … she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him so happy.

She started to laugh, though it was born out of delirium. “Of course you did,” she said. “I really need a bath.”

He pushed a lock of Scarlet’s dirty hair away from her cheek, following the gesture with his eyes, still beaming. He ran a thumb across her shoulder, down her arm, and lifted her hand—the one with the bandaged finger. A moment of fury dulled his smile, but it was brief, and then he was examining her face again. “Scarlet,” he whispered. “Scarlet.”

With a sob, she settled her head into the crook of his neck. “If this is a Lunar trick, I am going to be furious.”

A thumb brushed against her ear. “You called them swine.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

Wolf pulled back and cupped her face in his gigantic hands, still beaming. “In the tavern in Rieux, when all those men were making jokes about Cinder at the ball. You called them swine and you got up on the bar and defended her even though she was Lunar, and that was the moment I started to fall in love with you.”

Heat rushed into her cheeks. “Why are you…?”

“No Lunar would know that.” His grin turned impish. “So I can’t be a Lunar trick.”

Her lips parted in understanding, and another sniff turned into a laugh. “You’re right.” She thought back, to a time before she knew about mutant soldiers and missing Lunar princesses. “When you came to the farm and I thought I would have to shoot you. You told me to aim for the torso because it’s a bigger target, then laughed when I said your head looked big enough to me.” She dug her fingers into his shirt. “That’s when I…”

He kissed her again, molding their bodies together.

A high-pitched whistle sounded over the clattering rocks, startling her. Pulling away, she saw Cinder and Thorne—the source of the whistle—along with a dark-skinned girl with blue hair who had her hands pressed dreamily against her cheeks.

It was such a welcome sight, Scarlet started crying again. Disentangling herself from Wolf’s arms, she hobbled to her feet. He was quick to join her, one arm encircling her shoulders. “I can’t believe it. You’re here. On Luna.”

“We’re here,” agreed Thorne. “And if you’d bothered to RSVP, we would have brought you a snack.” His eyes skimmed down her body. “When was the last time you ate?”

Scarlet glanced down. Her clothes hung from her bones, her muscles withered to almost nothing in the tiny cage. Still, he didn’t need to point it out.

“You look lovely,” said the blue-haired girl. “A little rough around the edges, but it adds character.”

“Um, thanks,” said Scarlet, swiping the tears from her cheeks. “And you are…?”

The girl bounced on her toes. “It’s me, Iko! The captain found me a real body.”

Scarlet’s eyebrows jotted upward. This was Iko? Their spaceship?

Before she could reply, a sweet singing voice floated through the alley.

“The parakeets sing ta-weet-a-weet-a-weet, and the stars twinkle all the night…”

Four pairs of eyes swiveled toward the cart that was now full of shimmering white rock, though the shaft from the building had fallen silent. At some point, Winter had crawled behind it, wedging herself between the cart and the wall. Scarlet could see the top of the red hood pulled over Winter’s hair.

“And the monkeys frolic a-eet-eet-eet, while the rockets fly on by…”

Cinder approached the cart with her brow drawn and rolled it away. Winter was curled up on her side, facing the wall and drawing little designs into the dust. The tablecloth had fallen open, revealing her blood-covered skirt.

“And the Earth is full tonight, tonight, and the wolves all howl, aa-ooooooooooh…”

The dainty howl faded away.

Scarlet could feel everyone’s curious gazes switching between her and the princess. She cleared her throat. “She’s harmless,” she said. “I’m pretty sure.”

Winter rolled onto her back so she was staring at Cinder upside-down.

Cinder’s eyes widened. The others crept forward.

After three slow blinks, Winter rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up to her knees. She turned down the hood, letting her thick hair tumble out around her shoulders. “Hello.”

Scarlet started laughing again. She remembered what it was like seeing the princess for the first time. Her full lips, delicate shoulders, huge eyes flecked with shavings of gray, all paired with the unexpected scars on her right cheek that should have made her less stunning but didn’t.

It occurred to Scarlet that Wolf hadn’t seemed to notice. She felt a little twinge of pride.

“Stars,” whispered Iko. “You’re beautiful.”

A loud click echoed through the alley. “Drop your glamour,” demanded Thorne, aiming a gun at the princess.

Scarlet’s pulse hiccuped. “Wait—” she started, but Cinder had already put a hand on his wrist and was pressing the gun back down.

“It’s not a glamour,” she said.

“Really?” Thorne leaned toward Cinder and whispered, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

This statement was followed by another long, heady silence, during which Winter passed her sweetest smile between each of them.

Thorne clicked the safety on and shoved the gun back into its holster. “Holy spades, you Lunars have good genes.” An awkward pause followed, before he added, “Who is she?”

“This is Winter,” said Scarlet. “Princess Winter.”

Thorne guffawed and pushed a hand into his hair. “Are we running a boardinghouse for misplaced royalty around here, or what?”

“Princess Winter?” said Cinder. “They just announced that you were murdered.”

“Jacin faked the murder,” said Scarlet, “and helped us escape.”

Cinder’s eyes flashed toward her, surprised. “Jacin?”

Scarlet nodded. “The guard who attacked us aboard the Rampion.”

A shadow fell over Cinder’s expression. She looked away.

“She’s just so pretty.” Iko sighed, feeling her own face for comparison.

Scarlet glared. “She can hear.”

Cocking her head, Winter held out a hand toward Thorne. His eyes widened and it seemed an automatic response to help her to her feet.

He was blushing when Winter took her hand away and adjusted her skirt. “You are all very kind,” she said, but it was Cinder that her attention had landed on. She studied the cyborg, curious. Cinder scrunched her shoulders in tight to her body. “And you,” said Winter, “are my long-lost cousin and very dear friend. I could not believe it until now, but it is true.” Winter took Cinder’s hands into hers. “Do you remember me?”

Cinder slowly shook her head.

“It’s all right,” said Winter, and her expression said that it was all right. “My memories are hazy too, and I’m a year older. Still, I hope we can be good friends again.” She interlaced their fingers. “This hand is unusual,” she said, lifting the titanium-plated one. “Is it made of ashes?”

“Is it made … I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t,” said Scarlet, waving a hand. “I find it’s better if you don’t ask.”

The princess grinned again. “Forgive me. You are no longer only my friend or my cousin, and this is no way to greet you.” She dropped into a dancer’s curtsy and placed a kiss on Cinder’s metal knuckle. “My Queen, it is my honor to serve you.”

“Er—thank you?” Cinder pried her hand away and hid it behind her back. “That’s kind, but you don’t have to do that. Again. Ever.”

Thorne cleared his throat. “We need to get back to the house. We’ve already risked drawing enough attention, and she…” He looked at Winter. There was an edge to his expression, like he didn’t trust anyone who was more attractive than he was. “… will definitely draw attention.”