Winter (The Lunar Chronicles #4) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,125

wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She was not pretty when she cried, and Winter liked this about her.

Tipping forward, she rested her hand on Scarlet’s shoulder. Scarlet didn’t shake her away.

“I do understand,” she said. “It would not be safe for me to return to Artemisia, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help Selene and my people. I, too, have a not-really-a-plan.”

Scarlet peered up at her with bloodshot eyes. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Thorne and Iko will go to Artemisia and try to save Selene and Wolf and Jacin and Cress, while you and I disappear underground, into the lava tubes and the shadows, and there we shall raise an army of our own.”

“Oh, we’re going to go underground and raise an army, are we?” Scarlet sniffed and threw her hands into the air. “Why do I even bother talking to you? You are not helping. You are the capital U of Unhelpful.”

“I am serious. There are killers and there are animals and there are predators yearning to be free. You know this, Scarlet-friend. You have already freed one.” Winter stood and placed a hand on the wall for balance, then skirted around the small table.

Scarlet rolled her eyes, but it was Iko who spoke. “The barracks,” she said. “The barracks where Levana keeps her soldiers are in the lava tubes.”

Thorne’s gaze swiveled from Iko to Winter. “Her soldiers? You mean, her mutant wolf soldiers? Are you insane?”

Winter started to giggle. “I might as well be,” she said, placing a hand on Thorne’s cheek. “For everyone tells me so.”

Forty-Four

“The queen’s on edge,” Jacin said as he strapped his gun holster on over his uniform. “She’s keeping quiet about it, trying to pretend like nothing’s happening so the families won’t panic. But you can tell something’s changed.”

Cross-legged on the cot, Cress was cradling her portscreen against her chest. The temptation grew by the hour to send a comm to Thorne and the others. Her curiosity was killing her, and the separation from them had left her anxious and lonely. But she wouldn’t risk the signal being traced. She wouldn’t put them in any more danger than they already were—or herself, for that matter.

Still. Being so disconnected was agony.

“You don’t know if the video played?” she asked.

Jacin shrugged and went through a process of checking the gun’s ammunition and safety with practiced movements. He tucked it into the holster.

“I know the queen recorded an impromptu broadcast of her own. I guess she dragged the emperor out for it too, but it didn’t broadcast in Artemisia, so I don’t know what it said. It could have just been wedding announcement garbage.”

Cress licked her lips. “If I could have access to the security center again, I could find out—”

“No.”

She glared at him, and was met with a finger jutting toward her nose. “We already risked enough. You’re staying here.” Turning away, he adjusted his shoulder armor, looking once again like the queen’s loyal servant. “Long shift tonight—I’m on duty for the entire wedding and celebratory feast. But most of us are, so it should be quiet around here at least.”

Cress sighed. There had been a time when the quiet and solitude would have been comforting. That was what she’d been accustomed to aboard the satellite, after all. But now it made her feel even more like a prisoner.

“Bye,” she muttered, before adding half-jokingly, “Bring me back some cake.”

Jacin paused with his hand on the door. His face softened. “I’ll do my best.”

He pulled open the door, and froze.

Cress’s heart leaped into her throat.

Another guard stood in the hall, his hand raised to knock. His attention flitted from Jacin to Cress.

Recovering faster than Cress, Jacin crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, blocking the guard’s view of her. “What do you want?”

“Who’s she?” the guard asked.

“That’s my business.”

“Oh, please.” The guard shoved aside Jacin’s arm, forcing his way into the small room. Cress pushed her back against the wall, squeezing the portscreen so hard she heard the plastic creak in protest. “Lots of guards might take mistresses, but not you.”

The door shut behind him.

Cress was watching the stranger when she heard the click of a gun’s safety releasing.

The guard froze, his back to Jacin. His gaze turned surprised as he raised both hands to the side of his head.

“Who said anything about a mistress?” Jacin growled.

Cress swallowed. This guard was unfamiliar, with dark eyes and wavy hair cut above his ears. She didn’t remember him from the ambush at the docks,