Winter (The Lunar Chronicles #4) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,75

cage, sunshine.”

The corner of his mouth crinkled with restrained amusement, but it vanished just as fast. Unnerving. He nudged his chin toward her hand. “When was the last time someone checked that for infection?”

“I know what infection looks like.” She resisted the urge to hide her wounded finger, but there was no way she was showing this guy her finger stub. “It’s fine.”

He made a noncommittal sound. “They say you’re a decent pilot.”

She scowled. “What is this, a job interview?”

“Have you ever flown a Lunar ship before?”

For the first time, he had her full attention, but her curiosity was crowded with suspicion.

“Why?”

“They’re not much different from Earthen ships. Little different layout of the flight controls, smoother liftoff generally. I think you could figure it out.”

“And why would it matter if I can fly a Lunar ship?”

His gaze cut through her, saying more than his words. He stood. “Just be ready.”

“Be ready for what? And why do you care about me, anyway?”

“I don’t,” he said, so casual Scarlet had to believe him. “But I do care about the princess, and she could use an ally.” He looked away. “A better ally than me.”

Twenty-Eight

Winter’s heart fluttered as she pushed open the massive glass door to the menagerie. Sounds of wildlife spilled into the corridor—squawking birds in their palatial cages, monkeys chattering from overhead vines, white stallions neighing in distant stables.

She shut the door before the heat could escape and scanned the forked pathways, but there was no sign of Jacin. The menagerie took up several acres of this wing of the palace, a labyrinth of barred cages and glass enclosures. It was always humid and perfumed with exotic flowers, an aroma that barely covered up the animal scent.

It was her favorite place—had been even before Scarlet had lived there. She always felt at home with the animals, who knew nothing of mind control and manipulation. They didn’t care if she was beautiful or if she was the queen’s stepdaughter or if she was going mad. She could not remember ever having an episode of madness inside these walls, surrounded by her friends. Here, she was calmer. Here, she could pretend that she was in control of her own senses.

She tucked an unruly curl behind her ear and moved away from the door. She passed the chilled home of the arctic fox, who was curled atop a birch log, hiding his face behind a bristled tail. The next cage held a mother snow leopard and her litter of three prancing cubs. On the opposite side of the mossy path was a sleeping white owl. It peeped its huge eyes open as Winter passed.

She spotted Ryu’s enclosure ahead, but he must have been sleeping in his den, as the wolf was nowhere to be seen. Then there was Scarlet, the one creature in the menagerie that was not made up of all-white fur or feathers, and she wore the distinction with defiance in her red hair and the hooded sweatshirt she never took off despite the humidity. She was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, staring at the flowering moss outside her cage.

She startled as Winter came closer.

“Hello, friend.” Winter knelt in front of Scarlet’s cage.

“Hello, crazy,” said Scarlet. It sounded like an endearment. “How are the castle walls today?”

Winter hummed thoughtfully. She’d been so distracted she’d hardly been paying attention to the walls. “Not as bloody as usual,” she determined.

“That’s something.” Scarlet pulled her curls to one side. Her hair was dark with grease and grime, extinguishing the fiery redness that had once reminded Winter of a comet’s tail. She’d also lost too much weight since her captivity. Winter felt a pang of guilt. She should have brought a snack.

Scarlet’s gaze raked over Winter with a tinge of suspicion, taking in the fluttery dress that sparkled a bit more than usual. “You look…” She paused. “Never mind. What’s the occasion?”

Winter knotted her hands together. “Jacin asked me to meet him here.”

Scarlet nodded, unsurprised. “Yeah, he came by a bit ago.” She tilted her chin toward the path. “He went that way.”

Winter stood again, knees shaking. Why was she nervous? This was Jacin, who had seen her covered in mud and scratches when they were children, who had bandaged her wounds when she got a scrape, who had held her when the visions were closing in, his whispers dragging her back to reality.

But something had been different when he asked her to meet him here.

For once, he seemed anxious.

She spent half