Dr. Erland screwed up his lips, but didn’t correct her again. “Yes. It will take some time, but you will eventually have all the use of your natural gift that you were born with.” He spun his fingers in the air. “Would you like to try and use it now? You may be able to. I’m not sure.”
Cinder imagined a spark in her wires, something crackling at the base of her spine. She knew it was probably in her head, self-induced panic, but she couldn’t be sure. What did it feel like to be Lunar? To have that kind of power?
She shook her head. “No, that’s all right. I’m not ready for that.”
A thin smile stretched across the doctor’s lips, as if he were faintly disappointed. “Of course. When you’re ready.”
Hugging her arms around her waist, she inhaled a shaky breath. “Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“Are you immune to letumosis, like me?”
Dr. Erland’s held her focus, unflinching. “Yes. I am.”
“Then why haven’t you just used your own blood samples to find a cure? So many people have died…. And the cyborg draft…”
The wrinkles on his face softened. “I have been, Miss Linh. Where do you think the twenty-seven antidotes we’ve already been through came from?”
“And none of them worked.” She tucked her feet beneath her chair, feeling small. Insignificant—again. “So my immunity isn’t the miracle you made it out to be.” Her eyes fell on the vial. The queen’s antidote.
“Miss Linh.”
Meeting the doctor’s gaze, Cinder found a glint there. Barely contained giddiness, like the first time she’d met him.
“You are the miracle I was looking for,” he said. “But you are right. It was not because of your immunity.”
Cinder stared at him, waiting for him to explain. What else could be special about her? Had he actually been searching for the ingenious lock on her magic—Linh Garan’s prototype?
Her internal comm pinged before he could continue. She jolted, turning away from the doctor as green text skittered across her eyesight.
COMM RECEIVED FROM NEW BEIJING DISTRICT 29, LETUMOSIS QUARANTINE. LINH PEONY ENTERED FOURTH STAGE OF LETUMOSIS AT 17:24 ON 18 AUG 126 T.E.
“Miss Linh?”
Her fingers trembled. “My sister’s entered the fourth stage.” Her gaze settled on the vial atop Dr. Erland’s desk.
He followed the look. “I see,” he said. “The fourth stage works quickly. There isn’t much time to lose.” Reaching forward, he grasped the vial between his forefingers. “A promise is a promise.”
Cinder’s heart thumped against her ribs. “But don’t you need it? To duplicate?”
Standing, the doctor paced to the bookshelf and pulled a beaker stand toward him. “How old is she?”
“Fourteen.”
“Then I think this will be sufficient.” He poured a quarter of the antidote into the beaker. Corking the vial, he turned back to Cinder. “You do realize it came from Queen Levana. I do not know what her plan could be, but I know it will not be for the greater good of Earth. This could very well be a trick.”
“My sister is already dying.”
He nodded and held it out to her. “That is what I thought.”
Cinder’s stood up and took the vial, cradling it in her palm. “You’re sure?”
“On one condition, Miss Linh.”
Gulping, she clutched the vial against her chest.
“You must promise me not to come near this palace again so long as Queen Levana is here.”