Scarlet (The Lunar Chronicles #2) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,105
We just need to figure out a way—I can carry you.” Tears dripped off Scarlet’s chin.
“Come here, my love. Come closer.” Scarlet swiped at her nose and buried her face against her grandma’s neck. Arms tried to encircle her, but served to only beat weakly against her sides. “I didn’t want to involve you in this. I’m so sorry.”
“Grand-mère.”
“Hush. Listen. I need you to do something for me. Something important.”
She shook her head. “Stop it. You’re going to be all right.”
“Listen to me, Scarlet.” Even her grandmother’s faint voice seemed to drop. “Princess Selene is alive.”
Scarlet squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop talking, please. Save your strength.”
“She went to live in the Eastern Commonwealth with a family by the name of Linh. A man named Linh Garan.”
A sad, frustrated sigh. “I know, Grand-mère. I know you kept her, and I know you gave her to a man in the Commonwealth. But it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not your problem anymore. I’m going to get you out of here, and I’ll keep you safe.”
“No, darling, you must find her. She’ll be a teenager now … a cyborg.”
Scarlet blinked, wishing she could see her grandmother in the blackness. “A cyborg?”
“Unless she changed her name, she’s called Cinder now.”
The name struck a chord of familiarity in the back of Scarlet’s mind, but her brain was too clouded to pinpoint it. “Grand-mère, please stop talking. I have to—”
“You must find her. Logan and Garan are the only ones who know, and if the queen found me, she could find them. Someone must tell the girl who she is. Someone must find her. You must find her.”
Scarlet shook her head. “I don’t care about the stupid princess. I care about you. I’m going to protect you.”
“I can’t go with you.” Her padded hands rubbed against Scarlet’s arms. “Please, Scarlet. She could make all the difference.”
Scarlet shrank down. “She’ll just be a teenager,” she managed between her renewed sobs. “What can she do?”
She remembered then, the name. The newsfeeds flashed through her thoughts—a girl running down palace steps, falling, landing in a heap on a gravel path.
Linh Cinder.
A teenager. A cyborg. A Lunar.
She gulped. So Levana had already found the girl. Found, but lost her again.
“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured, laying her head against her grandma’s chest. “It’s not our problem. I’m going to get you out of here. We’re going to get away.”
Her mind desperately searched for a way they could escape together. Something to use as a stretcher or a wheelchair or—
But there was nothing.
Nothing that could make it up the stairs. Nothing she could carry. Nothing her grandma could endure.
Her heart broke, the pain of it pushing a wail out of her throat.
She couldn’t leave her like this. She couldn’t let them hurt her anymore.
“My sweet girl.”
She clamped her eyes shut, pushing out two more hot tears. “Grand-mère, who is Logan Tanner?”
Her grandma brushed a light kiss against Scarlet’s forehead. “He’s a good man, Scarlet. He would have loved you. I hope you’ll meet him someday. Tell him hello for me. Tell him good-bye.”
A sob cut through Scarlet’s heart. Her grandma’s shirt was soaked through with her tears.
She couldn’t bring herself to tell her that Logan Tanner was dead. Had gone crazy. Had killed himself.
Her grandfather.
“I love you, Grand-mère. You’re everything to me.”
The heavy bandaged limbs stroked her knees. “I love you too. My brave, stubborn girl.”
She sniffed, and vowed to herself that she would stay until morning. She would stay forever. She wouldn’t abandon her. If her captors came back, they would find them together—kill them together if they must.
She would never leave her again.
The vow was made, the promise determined, when she heard footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Thirty-Nine
Hunkering down over her grandmother, Scarlet turned toward the hallway. Old wires hummed overhead and pale light flooded the cell. The door still stood open, the bars casting skeletal shadows along the floor.
Her eyes adjusted slowly. She held her breath, listening, but the footsteps had stopped. Still, someone was there. Someone was coming.
Her grandmother’s bandaged hand slipped into hers and she turned back. Her gut clamped. Streaks of dried blood were on the weathered face, her hair was tangled and matted. She was little more than a wasted skeleton now, though her brown eyes were still strong, still vibrant. Still filled with more love than was kept in all the rest of the world.