but they were still shut.
Cinder’s stomach dropped.
They were supposed to open automatically.
But—no. Levana had been expecting them. Of course she had taken precautions to ensure they wouldn’t be able to escape.
Her face contorted, desperation crashing into her. She struggled to come up with another way out. Would Wolf be strong enough to pry open the doors? Could they fire their way through?
As she racked her brain, a new expression came over Cress, replacing her wide-eyed terror with resolve. Cinder followed her gaze to a circular control booth that stood between the maglev and palace entrances. Before Cinder could guess her plan, Cress had dropped to her hands and knees and started crawling along the wall.
A gun fired. Cress flinched but kept going.
It was followed by another shot, and another, each making Cinder duck down farther. With the third shot there was a shatter of glass.
Cinder spun around, her heart in her throat, and sought out Thorne. He hadn’t moved, but now he was holding a handgun, and had it aimed behind him. He’d shot out a window on Kai’s ship.
He was causing another distraction, trying to draw more attention to himself, to keep it away from Cress.
Throat dry as desert sand, Cinder looked back to see that Cress had made it to the booth. She was clutching her portscreen, the fingers of her other hand dancing over an invisi-screen. Iko was still by the doors, crouched into a ball, ready to spring up and run at the slightest provocation.
Beside Cinder, Wolf was focused on Thorne, ready to rush into the fight the second one broke out.
Footsteps came pounding down the ramp of Kai’s ship and additional Lunar guards swarmed the aisles. It wasn’t the guards that concerned Cinder, though. They wouldn’t be skilled enough to detect Thorne in their midst. It was their thaumaturges that worried her, but she couldn’t find them.
Doors whistled. Wolf grabbed Cinder’s elbow before she could turn around and dragged her up to the platform.
Cress had gotten the doors open.
Iko was already on the other side, her back against a corridor wall, waving them on. She had drawn her own gun for the first time and was searching for a target.
“There!”
Wolf and Cinder pounded up the stairs. A bullet pinged against the wall, and she ducked and stumbled through the doors. They slammed into the wall beside Iko.
Cinder looked back, panting. Their pursuers had given up trying to catch them off guard and were now running toward them at full speed. But Thorne had a head start, and he, too, had given up secrecy for speed. Cinder fed images into his mind—his legs running fast as a gazelle’s, his feet barely touching the ground. She was too afraid that to turn him into a puppet would only slow him down, but the mental encouragement seemed to work. His speed increased. He bounded up the stairs in two steps.
Over his shoulder, Cinder finally saw the thaumaturge, a woman with short black hair and a red coat.
Gritting her teeth, she raised her arm and fired. She didn’t know where she’d hit her, but the woman cried out and fell.
Thorne threw himself across the threshold as the guards reached the base of the platform steps. The doors slammed shut behind him.
Thorne collapsed against the wall, holding his chest. His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were bright with adrenaline as he looked around at the group. At Cinder, at Iko, at Wolf.
The growing smile vanished. “Cress?”
Cinder, still gasping for her own breath, shook her head.
His jaw fell slack with horror. He pushed himself off the wall and lunged for the doors, but Wolf jumped in front of him, pinning Thorne’s arms to his sides.
“Let me go,” Thorne growled.
“We can’t go back,” said Wolf. “It’s suicide.”
To punctuate his words, a volley of bullets struck the doors, their loud clangs echoing down the corridor they were now trapped in.
“We’re not leaving her.”
“Thorne—” started Cinder.
“No!” Wriggling one arm free, Thorne swung, but Wolf ducked. In half a heartbeat, Wolf had spun around and pinned Thorne to the wall, one enormous hand at Thorne’s throat.
“She gave us this chance,” Wolf said. “Don’t waste it.”
Thorne’s jaw flexed. His body was taut as a cable, ready to fight, though he was no match for Wolf. Panic was etched into every line of his face, but slowly, slowly, his erratic breaths started to even.
“We have to go,” said Cinder, almost afraid to suggest it.
Thorne’s focus shifted to the closed doors.
“I could stay?” suggested Iko, her tone