And then—there he was. A green dot in the north tower. Fourteenth floor. The sitting room connected to his personal chambers. He was pacing.
She shivered. She was so close to him, after being a galaxy apart.
“Got him.”
They kept to hallways that she expected to be unoccupied. She found herself continuously glancing at the cameras on the ceilings, but not one of them moved or flashed or indicated that it was turned on, and slowly Cinder’s paranoia began to fade.
Cress had done it. She’d shut down the security system.
Then they rounded a corner into the elevator bank of the north tower and Cinder crashed into a woman.
She stumbled back. “Oh—sorry!”
The woman eyed Cinder. She was a member of the staff, dressed in the same blush-toned top and black pants that they were.
Cinder called up her glamour, turning her cyborg hand into a human one and giving her complexion the same flawless tone as an escort’s. She flashed a smile that she hoped hid her surprise and bowed.
It took a few heartbeats more to realize why she was so startled. Not because they’d run into someone here in the hallway, but because she hadn’t sensed this woman around the corner.
It was a feeling so subtle she’d hardly known she was doing it before—reaching out with her consciousness and lightly touching on the bioelectricity that shimmered off every human being. She’d gotten used to feeling Thorne and Wolf and Jacin and Dr. Erland when they were nearby, their presence like a shadow in her subconscious. It was instinctual, no more difficult than breathing.
But this woman was a blank slate to her. Like Cress, a shell. Like Iko.
“My apologies,” said the woman, returning Cinder’s bow. “This wing of the palace is off-limits to anyone without a crown-issued pass. I must ask you to leave.”
“We have a pass,” said Iko, smiling brightly. “We’ve been asked to check with His Imperial Majesty and see if he requires any refreshments while we wait for the ceremony to begin.” She made to step around the woman, but a palm shot out and pressed against her sternum.
The woman’s serene gaze, though, remained on Cinder.
“You are Linh Cinder,” she said. “You are a wanted fugitive. I am required to alert authorities.”
“Er, sorry, but this is a bad time for me.” Stepping back, Cinder raised her prosthetic hand and fired a tranquilizer dart at the woman’s thigh. It clanged, the tip catching briefly in the fabric of her pants, before it fell to the floor.
That was all the confirmation she needed.
Cinder clenched her jaw and swung for the side of the woman’s head, but the woman ducked and whipped a leg up, her foot catching Cinder in the side.
She grunted and stumbled away, her back crashing into a wall.
With an impassive expression, the woman leaped after her, aiming an elbow for Cinder’s nose. Cinder barely blocked, using the momentum to spin around, locking her elbow around the woman’s neck.
The woman bucked her hips, sending Cinder tumbling over her head. She landed on her back, her vision spotty.
“Iko—she’s a—”
She heard a click and the fighting stalled around her.
Cinder moaned. “An android.”
“I noticed,” said Iko, holding up a control panel studded with snapped wires. “Are you all right?” Iko crouched beside Cinder, her expression a perfect model of concern.
Though she was still panting, Cinder found herself smiling. “You’re the most human android I’ve ever known.”
“I know.” Iko scooped a hand beneath Cinder and helped her sit up. “Your hair is a mess, by the way. Honestly, Cinder, can’t you look presentable for more than five minutes?”
Cinder braced herself on Iko and climbed to her feet. “I’m a mechanic,” she said, an automatic response. She glanced at the woman, whose arms had fallen limp at her sides and whose eyes were staring emptily toward the elevators.
Shaking her head to clear it, Cinder tapped the elevator call button. The screen flashed twice with a warning about a level-one security breach, before turning green. The nearest elevator opened.
Somewhere, many floors underneath the palace, Cress had just given her clearance.
Together, she and Iko dragged the android into the elevator and left her in a corner. Cinder’s hands were shaking so hard with adrenaline she almost pushed the button for the wrong floor. As the doors shut, she pulled the last few bobby pins out of her hair and instead whipped it into a quick, messy ponytail. Five minutes of being presentable had been plenty enough.
In her head, she narrowed her focus down to those two separate dots, merging ever closer.
Herself—gliding up between the tower floors.
And Kai.
* * *
Something was wrong. Thaumaturge Sybil Mira could sense it in the way the Earthen guards were acting, in how there were too many whispers and hands resting on gun hilts. As she followed behind Queen Levana, Sybil found herself growing tense.
Her queen would not be happy should anything go wrong.
She glanced sideways at Thaumaturge Aimery. His eyes met hers. He’d noticed it too.
She looked ahead to her queen, who was wearing red and gold, traditional Commonwealth wedding colors. Her head was draped in a sheer veil and the long train of her gown had been embroidered with the ornate tails of the dragon and phoenix motif that converged in the front. The fabric billowed like a sail as she walked. Her posture suggested poise and confidence, as it always did. Had she noticed anything yet? Even if she had, she may only attribute it to her presence, and how the weak Earthens would simultaneously ogle and cower from her. But Sybil knew it was more than that.
The hair prickled on her neck.
They were nearly to the main corridor when a guard stepped in front of their escorts. Her Majesty came to a stop, her skirt settling at her feet. Aimery stopped as well, but Sybil continued forward to place herself at Her Majesty’s side, taking care not to favor her uninjured leg. She may have been forced to tell the queen about her failure in capturing Linh Cinder, but she’d so far managed to avoid the embarrassing fact that she was shot during the fight. By her own guard, no less.
“My sincerest apologies, Your Majesty,” the Earthen guard began with a quick bow.
Sybil glowered, and with a twitch of her fingers, the guard dropped to one knee. He grunted.
“You will show my queen proper respect when addressing her,” Sybil said, slipping her hands into her sleeves.
It took a moment for the guard to recover from his shock. She did not allow him to stand or even raise his head from its lowered, respectful position, and finally he cleared his throat and proceeded, his voice more strained than before. “Your Majesty, we are experiencing an unanticipated malfunction of our security systems. We’ve determined that for your safety, and the safety of Emperor Kaito, we must delay the ceremony.” He paused to inhale. “We’re optimistic that the delay will be short. However, I’m afraid I must ask you to return to your quarters. We will inform you immediately once this matter is cleared and we can proceed with the ceremony.” A drop of sweat traced down his neck. “Your escorts will happily return you to—”
“What sort of malfunction?” asked the queen.
“I’m afraid I can’t divulge any details at this point, but we are working to correct the—”
“That is not an acceptable answer to my queen’s reasonable question,” said Sybil. “You have suggested that my queen may be in danger. I demand to know what details you have of the situation, so that I may personally see to her safety. We will not be kept ignorant on these matters. Now, what sort of malfunction are you experiencing?”
She could see his jaw flexing, his eyes fixed on the ground before the queen’s feet. Sybil doubted he was high ranking enough to answer the question, but his fear was working against his resolve. The two lower-ranked guards that had accompanied him didn’t move or fidget, and yet their rigid posture hinted at their own discomfort. Perhaps she should prostrate them all.
“A manual one,” the guard said finally. “Our security system has been shut down, which can only be done at the central control room.”
“And that is within the palace?”
“Yes, Thaumaturge Mira.”
“You’re telling me that your malfunction is truly a security breach.”
“It is a possibility we are considering. Our number one priority is the safety of our guests. Again, I must ask that you return to your quarters, Your Majesty.”
Sybil laughed. “The palace may have been infiltrated. You can’t keep someone away from your own security mainframe, and yet you think we’ll be safe in the guest quarters?”
“That’s enough, Sybil.”
Sybil froze and glanced at her queen. Her long, pale fingers were interlaced over her skirt, but Sybil guessed that beneath the veil, her eyes would be sharp as needles.
“My Queen?”
“I am sure these men are well aware of the importance of this wedding ceremony, and the global repercussions that could follow should anything prevent this marriage from taking place. Aren’t you, gentlemen?”
The guards said nothing. The kneeling man was beginning to tremble. Sybil could guess that his neck was aching from holding his head at such an awkward position.
Two steps clicked on the floor to Her Majesty’s other side. “My queen asked you a question,” said Aimery, his voice both calm and menacing, like the roll of distant thunder.
The guard cleared his throat. “We have no desire to delay or prevent this wedding, Your Majesty. We only wish to resolve the problems swiftly so that the ceremony can continue as soon as possible.”
“See that you do,” said the queen. “Sybil, Aimery, let us return to our chambers and allow these men to fulfill their responsibilities without toiling over us.” She began to turn, before pausing. Her veil swished past her elbows. “Please, do send word immediately as to the safety of my groom. I will be in fits until I know he is well.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” said the guard. “We will be instating extra protection outside your chambers, as well as His Majesty’s, until this is resolved.”
Sybil waited until they were pacing away, following behind their escorts and guards, before she released her hold on the man. She wondered if those guards had any imagination for the wrath they would incur if this interruption wasn’t resolved.
The delay itself, though, was not what made Sybil anxious. It was what—or who—could have caused such a delay.
Though Levana refused to even speak about the escaped cyborg, other than to rail about the inadequacy of the Earthen military, Sybil had deduced what her queen would not say outright.
It had been easy to extract her hostage’s implications during the interrogation, and the redheaded girl had not been lying. Linh Cinder, the cyborg, was truly Princess Selene.
Sybil had seen the girl’s glamour at the ball. More telling, she had seen Her Majesty’s reaction to it. Her lost niece was the only person in the galaxy who could have caused such an uproar, and the idea that Princess Selene was out there, evading her, taunting her, would be driving the queen mad.
So far, the girl had proven herself to be remarkably resourceful. Escaping from New Beijing. Evading authorities in both Paris and that little African village. Even managing to get away from her.
Could it be that she was behind this? Would she be so reckless as to try to stop the queen’s wedding?
If so, perhaps Sybil had not been giving her enough credit. A palace breach. A security malfunction. A disabled syst—
She almost missed a step. She was not one for clumsiness, and Aimery noticed. She didn’t return his stare. Her thoughts were already racing.
It was not possible. She was jumping to conclusions.
She reached into her sleeve for the miniature portscreen that lived in its own small pocket and pulled up the surveillance feed for New Beijing Palace. All the cameras and trackers she’d painstakingly installed throughout the palace over countless dreary diplomatic meetings and discussions …