But nobody seemed to notice her fear, or if they did, they ignored it.

“Meanwhile,” Cinder continued, “Iko and I will track down Kai and get him to come back with us. We meet on one of the rooftops and Jacin picks us up and flies us out before they realize what’s going on. At least, that’s the idea.” She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “It does leave one more major problem though. I won’t be able to sneak in as a guest, or even a member of the staff. I’m too recognizable. So, how do I get into the palace without being noticed?”

“I could go without you?” suggested Iko.

Cinder shook her head. “Kai doesn’t know you. If we’re going to get him to trust us, I think … I think it has to be me.”

Jacin scoffed, the first sound he’d made, but Cinder ignored him.

Cress bit her lip as the others started making suggestions. She could disguise herself as a member of the media? Scale the back walls? Hide in an enormous bouquet of flowers?

Already red with embarrassment, Cress forced her mouth to open. “What about…” She trailed off as everyone turned to her. “Um.”

“What?” said Cinder.

“What about … the escape tunnels?”

“Escape tunnels?”

She pulled on her hair, wishing there was more of it to toy with, to twist and knot and take out her fluttering nerves on. But it was short now. Short and light and freeing, and everyone was still staring at her. Goose bumps raced down her arms.

“The ones that run beneath the palace. When they built it after the war, they had the tunnels put in to connect with fallout shelters and safe houses. In case of another attack.”

Cinder glanced at the netscreen. “None of the blueprints I’ve seen have said anything about escape tunnels.”

“They wouldn’t be very safe if everyone knew about them.”

“But how did you—” Cinder paused. “Never mind. Are you sure they’re still there?”

“Of course they are.”

“I don’t suppose you remember where any of them go?”

“Of course I do.” She wiped her clammy palms on her sides.

“Excellent.” Cinder looked on the verge of relaxing. “So, before we get into the details … are there any questio—”

“How long before we’re on Luna?” said Wolf, his voice gruff from misuse.

Cress gulped. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he could tear them all to pieces without a second thought.

Then she realized that there was a subtext to his question, one that everyone else had probably picked up on immediately. Scarlet. He really wanted to know, how long before he could go after Scarlet?

“A couple weeks, at least,” said Cinder. Her voice had gone quiet, apologetic. “Maybe as many as three…”

Jaw tightening, Wolf turned his head away. Otherwise, he remained motionless, a brooding shadow in the corner.

Thorne raised a finger and Cinder went rigid again. “Yes?”

“Doesn’t New Beijing Palace have its own medical labs? Say, medical labs that might have magical blindness-curing machines in them?”

Cinder narrowed her eyes. “You’re not coming. It’s too risky, and you would just be in the way.”

Thorne grinned, unperturbed. “Think about it, Cinder. When Cress takes out that security system, every guard in that palace is going to run to one of two places. To the security control center to see what’s going on, or to wherever their precious emperor is, to make sure he’s safe and sound. Unless there was another, even more obvious disturbance happening somewhere else in the palace.” He cupped his chin. “A big disturbance. Far, far away from you guys. Like, say, in the medical labs.”

Knotting her hands in her lap, Cress swiveled her attention between Thorne and Cinder, wondering what sort of disturbance he had in mind. For her part, Cinder looked torn. She kept opening her mouth, before slamming it shut again. She did not seem happy to be contemplating Thorne’s idea.

“I have a question too.”

Cress jumped and turned to peer over her shoulder at Jacin. He looked supremely bored, one elbow propped against the wall and his hand buried in his hair, as if he were about to fall asleep standing up. But his blue eyes were sharp as he stared at Cinder.

“Let’s say you manage to pull this off, not that I really think you will.”

Cinder folded her arms.

“You do understand that once Levana realizes what you’ve done, she’s not going to sit around waiting to see what you do next, right? The cease-fire will be over.”

“I do understand that,” said Cinder, her tone heavy as she pulled her gaze away from Jacin, meeting each of the others’ in turn. “If we succeed, we’ll be starting a war.”

Forty-Four

The morning of the wedding arrived. Cinder was a wreck of frazzled thoughts and skittish nerves, but at the center of it was a strange sense of calm. Before the sun set again, she would know the outcome of all their planning and preparations. Either they would succeed today, or they would all become prisoners of Queen Levana.

Or they’d be dead.

She tried not to think of that as she showered and dressed and ate a meager breakfast of stale crackers and almond butter. It was all her churning stomach could handle.

The sun had just showed itself over the frosted Siberian tundra when they piled into the remaining podship—seven people crammed into a space meant for five—to embark on the forty-minute low-elevation flight to New Beijing. No one complained. The Rampion was far too large to hide. At least the podship would be able to blend in with all the other podships in a city suddenly swarming with foreign spacecraft.

The ride was torturous and mostly silent, punctuated only by Iko’s and Thorne’s occasional chatter. Cinder spent the ride switching between newsfeeds covering the royal wedding and the ongoing coverage of the rebellion in Farafrah.

The townspeople had given up their control of the military personnel as soon as reinforcements arrived. Rather than attempt to arrest and transport hundreds of civilians, the Commonwealth military, with permission from the African government, put the entire city into armed lockdown until they could all be thoroughly questioned and charged. The citizens were being treated as traitors to the Earthen Union for helping Linh Cinder, Dmitri Erland, and Carswell Thorne, although the news kept reporting that the government was willing to be lenient with anyone who came forward with information about the fugitives, their allies, and their ship.

So far, not one of the citizens of Farafrah seemed to be cooperating.

Cinder wondered if the Lunar townspeople were being treated the same as the Earthens, or if they were just waiting to be sent back to Luna for their real trial. To date, no journalists had mentioned that many of the rebels were Lunar. Cinder suspected the government was trying to keep that little fact quiet, to avoid mass panic in neighboring towns—or even all over the world—which would surely come once Earthens realized how easy it was for Lunars to blend in with them. Cinder could still remember when she’d believed there weren’t any Lunars on Earth and how horrified she’d been when Dr. Erland had told her she was wrong. Her reaction seemed ridiculously naïve now.

As New Beijing came into view, Cinder sent the newsfeeds away. The buildings at the city’s center were grand and imposing, like willowy sculptures of chrome and glass reaching toward the sky. Cinder was caught off guard by the sudden ache that hit her—homesickness. A homesickness she’d been too busy to recognize until that moment.

The palace stood regally beneath the morning sun, high on its watchful cliff, but they veered away from it. Jacin followed Cinder’s directions toward downtown, eventually mixing with clusters of hovers and, she was glad to see, multiple podships as well. Cinder’s stop was first, two blocks away from the Phoenix Tower Apartments.

She took in a deep breath as she disembarked. Though autumn would be sweeping in fast over the next few weeks, New Beijing was still in summer’s grip, and the day was starting off cloudless and warm. The temperature was just a click above comfortable, but not stifling with humidity as it had been the last time Cinder was in the city.

“If you don’t see me at the checkpoint in ten minutes,” she said, “loop the block a few times and come back.”

Jacin nodded without looking at her.

“If you get the chance,” said Iko, “give Adri a big kick in the rump for me. With the metal foot.”

Cinder laughed, though the sound was awkward. Then they were gone, leaving her alone on a street she’d walked a thousand times.

She’d already called up her glamour, but it was difficult to focus, so she kept her head down anyway as she made her way to the apartments she had once called home.

It was strange to be alone, after weeks of being surrounded by friends and allies, but she was glad that no one else was joining her for this stage of the plan. It seemed weirdly important to distance herself from the girl she’d been when she lived in this apartment, and the idea of her new friends meeting her ex-stepfamily made her cringe.

Her shirt was already sticking to her back as she approached the apartment’s main entrance. She waited until another resident came through, unlocking the doors with their embedded ID chip, and slipped in behind them. A familiar dread settled over her as she crossed the small lobby, a feeling that had once seemed normal. But this time, she also felt a sense of purpose as she entered the elevator. She was no longer the unwanted cyborg orphan who did as she was told and skittered off to her basement workroom to avoid Adri’s bitter glares.

She was free. She was in control. She didn’t belong to Adri anymore.

For perhaps the first time, she stepped out of the elevator with her head high.

The hallway was empty except for a mangy gray cat cleaning himself.

Cinder came to apartment 1820, squared her shoulders, and knocked.

Footsteps padded on the other side of the door, and she focused on her glamour. Cinder had chosen to take on the appearance of one of the officials she’d seen standing behind Kai at the last press conference. Middle-aged, slightly pudgy, with gray-flecked black hair and a too-small-for-her-face nose. She mimicked her exactly, down to the blue-gray business suit and sensible tan shoes.

The door opened and a cloud of stale hot air swept into the hallway.

Adri stood before her, tying the belt around her silk bathrobe. She almost always wore her bathrobe when she was at home, but this was not the same one Cinder was familiar with. Her hair was pulled back, and she wasn’t yet wearing any makeup. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her face.

Cinder expected her body to recoil under her stepmother’s inspection, but it didn’t. Rather, as she looked at Adri, she felt only a detached coldness.

This was just a woman with an invitation to the royal wedding. This was just another task to cross off the list.

“Yes?” said Adri, skeptical gaze swooping over her.

Cinder-the-Palace-Official bowed. “Good morning. Is Linh Adri-jiĕ at home?”

“I am Linh Adri.”

“A pleasure. I apologize for disturbing you at such an early hour,” said Cinder, launching into her practiced speech. “I am a member of the royal wedding planning committee, and I understand you were promised two invitations to the nuptials between His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Kaito, and Her Lunar Majesty, Queen Levana. As you are one of our distinguished civilian guests, I am honored to personally deliver your invitations for tonight’s ceremony.”

She held out two pieces of paper—in reality, disposable napkin scraps, but to Adri’s eye, two finely crafted, hand-pressed paper envelopes.

At least, she hoped that’s what Adri was seeing. The closest Cinder had yet to come to changing the perception of an inanimate object was her own prosthetic hand, and she wasn’t sure if that counted.