“A liability! You’re a liability!” He pointed at Wolf. “He’s a liability. Cress is a liability. We’re all liabilities!”
“Am I one too?” asked Iko. “I don’t want to be left out.”
Thorne rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. “Whatever. It’s fine. Not like it’s my ship anyway, is it?” Growling, he dragged a hand through his hair. “I do wish you would have said something before I had a heart attack thinking I’d just hailed the wrong ship.”
“You’re right. Won’t happen again.” Cinder attempted a nervous smile. “So … how did it go?”
“Fine, fine.” Thorne waved the question away. “Despite my inherent distrust of authority figures, I’m starting to like this emperor of yours.”
Cinder raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I should be relieved or worried.”
Cress bit her cheek, burying an amused smile. She’d sensed some discomfort from Thorne when Kai had come aboard—after all, “Emperor” outranked “Captain” by just about anyone’s standards—but she’d also noticed how Thorne stood a little straighter in Kai’s presence, like he wanted the emperor to be impressed by him and his ship and his crew … just a little.
Shrugging off his jacket, Thorne draped it over the nearest crate. “Anything exciting happen while I was away?” For the first time, his gaze darted past Cinder and Iko to land on Cress, and the look was so sudden and focused she became instantly flustered. Tearing her gaze away, she set to inspecting the metal wall plating.
“The wedding is back on,” said Cinder. “It will take place in Artemisia on the eighth, with the coronation to follow two days later at Lunar sunrise.”
Thorne’s eyebrows jumped upward. “Not wasting any time. Anything else?”
“Levana agreed to a cease-fire,” said Wolf, “but we’re waiting to hear if it’s been implemented.”
“Also, Cress destroyed me in a game of Mountain Miners,” said Iko.
Thorne nodded, as if these two announcements carried the same weight. “She is a genius.”
Cress’s blush deepened, frustratingly. It had been easier to pretend she wasn’t in love with him when he couldn’t tell how often her gaze attached to him, how she blushed at every stray compliment.
“Yeah, but I’m an android.”
Thorne laughed, all anger over the painted ship gone. “Why don’t you play Android Assault then? Maybe that’ll give you an upper hand.”
“Or Robot Resistance,” suggested Cinder.
Thorne snapped his fingers. “Yes. Vintage quality.” His eyes were twinkling, all calm and confident in that way that always made Cress feel more calm and confident too, just from being near him and knowing he was brave and capable and—
And he was looking at her. Again.
She looked away. Again.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Mortified, she found herself fantasizing about crawling down to the podship dock and getting sucked out into space.
“We should get started,” Cinder said. “Pack what supplies we think we’ll need, prepare the ship for extended neutral orbit.”
“You mean abandonment,” said Thorne, the lightness fading from his tone.
“I’ve already adjusted the wiring for the most efficient settings. It will be fine.”
“You know that’s not true. Without Cress disrupting the signals, it won’t be long before the ship is found and confiscated.”
Cinder sighed. “It’s a risk we have to take. How about, once I’m queen, I’ll use my royal coffers or whatever to buy you a new ship?”
Thorne glowered. “I don’t want a new ship.”
Cress felt a pang of sympathy. They were all sad to be leaving the Rampion. It had been a good home for the short time it sheltered them.
“You know, Thorne,” said Cinder, speaking softly, like she didn’t want to say what she was about to say, “you don’t have to come with us. You could take us to Kai, then come back to the Rampion and … you know we would never give you away.” She took in a deep breath. “I mean it. For all of you. You don’t have to go with me. I know the danger I’m putting you in, and that you didn’t know what you were signing up for when you joined me. You could go on with your lives, and I wouldn’t stop you. Wolf, Cress, returning to Luna must feel like a death sentence to you both. And, Iko—”
Iko held up a hand. “You need a system debug if you’re suggesting that I would abandon you now.”
Thorne grinned. His self-assured, one-sided grin. “She’s right. It’s sweet of you to worry, but there’s no way you can pull this off without us.”
Pressing her lips, Cinder didn’t argue.
Cress stayed silent, wondering if she was the only one who was briefly tempted by Cinder’s offer. Returning to Luna was like sentencing themselves to death—especially a shell like her, who should have been killed years ago. Undermining Levana from the safety of space was one thing. But walking right into Artemisia … it was almost like asking to be killed.
But Thorne was right. Cinder needed them. All of them.
She shut her eyes and reminded herself to be brave.
“Besides,” added Iko, breaking the tension, “our captain is still holding out for that reward money.”
The others laughed and a smile fluttered over Cress’s lips, but when she opened her eyes, Thorne wasn’t laughing with the rest of them.
In fact, he looked suddenly uncomfortable, his shoulders tense. “Well, you know, some people might say that doing the right thing is a reward in itself.”
The cargo bay fell still. Cress blinked.
Uncertainty stretched between them.
With a nervous chuckle, Thorne added, “But those people die poor and destitute, so who cares what they think?” He brushed away his own words. “Come on, freeloaders. Let’s get to work.”
Seventeen
Kai stared out the window, watching the clouds swirl over the continent below. He sought out the Great Wall snaking across the Commonwealth and smiled to think his ancestors had built something even the Fourth World War couldn’t destroy.
He hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he saw his beautiful country.
He knew the danger he was putting himself in, along with countless representatives from the rest of the Union. He hoped Levana had been truthful when she said she meant them no harm. He hoped this wasn’t about to turn into a bloodbath in which the naïve Earthens made for easy prey.
He hoped, but hoping did little to comfort him. He didn’t trust Levana. Not for a moment.
But this was the only way to give Cinder the chance she needed to face Levana and start her rebellion. Cinder’s success would rid them all of Levana and her tyranny. No more plague. No more war.
Stars, he hoped this worked.
Burying a sigh, he cast his restless gaze around the sitting room of his royal ship. If it weren’t for the breathtaking view of Earth, Kai would have had no idea he was aboard a spaceship at all. The décor held all the old-world decadence of the palace: ornate lanterns and gilt wallpapers and a theme of flying bats carved into the crown moldings. Long ago, bats had been a symbol of good luck, but over the years they had come to symbolize safe travels through the darkness of space.
Torin caught his eye from an upholstered chair on the other side of the room, where he was busy reading his portscreen. He had insisted on coming to Luna, asserting that the Chair of National Security, Deshal Huy, would be capable of acting as head of the Commonwealth in their absence. Torin’s place was beside Kai—for whatever it was worth.
“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?”
“Not so far.” He rubbed his palms on his thighs. “You told the pilots I want to be informed if any ships hail us?”
“Of course. I wish I could tell you they found it to be a reasonable request, but they seemed understandably suspicious.”
“Just as long as they do it.”
“And you’re sure this is a good idea?”
“Not in the slightest.” The ship
turned and Earth was no longer visible through the window. Kai turned away. “But I trust her.”
Torin set down his port. “Then I have no choice but to trust her as well.”
“Hey, you’re the one who told her about my second tracking chip.”
“Yes, and I have since wondered if that was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
“It wasn’t.” Kai rolled his shoulders, trying to relax. “Cinder can do this.”
“You mean, Selene can do this.”
“Selene. Cinder. She’s the same person, Torin.”
“I must disagree. To the world, Linh Cinder is a dangerous felon who kidnapped a world leader and instigated a war, while Princess Selene could be the solution to all our problems with Luna. By helping Linh Cinder, the world will think you’re nothing but an infatuated teenager. By helping Selene, you’re making a brave stand against our country’s enemies and doing what you believe is best for the Commonwealth’s future.”
A wisp of a smile jotted across Kai’s lips. “Whatever the world thinks, they are the same person. I want what’s best for Cinder, and I want what’s best for my country. Conveniently, I believe those are the same thing.”
It had been a relief to tell Torin everything—the only person he trusted to keep his secrets. Cinder’s identity, the real reason they were going to Luna, the revolution she planned to start there, and Kai’s role in it all. Though Torin expressed concern that Kai was risking far too much, he hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. In fact, Kai wondered if Torin wasn’t developing a little bit of faith in Cinder as well, even if he tried to hide it behind cold cynicism.
Torin returned his attention to his portscreen, and Kai sat watching through the window, his heart skipping every time he spotted another ship against the backdrop of space.
Hours passed like days. Kai tried to take a nap, to no avail. He read over his wedding vows without comprehending a word. He paced back and forth, and drank half a cup of tea that someone brought him—except it wasn’t as good as Nainsi would have made, which made him miss his trusted android assistant. He’d come to rely on her practical, no-nonsense conversation, but Levana was adamant that no androids would be allowed on Luna, so he was forced to leave Nainsi behind.
He set the tea aside, his stomach writhing with nerves. He should have heard from Cinder by now. Something had gone wrong, and here he was flying an entire fleet of Earth’s most powerful people right into Levana’s clutches and it would all be for nothing and—
“Your Majesty?”
His head snapped up. The ship’s first mate stood in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“We’ve been hailed by the American Republic’s secretary of defense. It seems they’re having technical issues with their ship’s computer mainframe and have requested permission to board and complete the trip to Artemisia with us.”
Kai exhaled.
“The captain suggests we send one of the military escorts to assist them. I’m happy to put them in touch—”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Kai. “We have the room. Let them board.” Though a dozen province representatives and some journalists from the Commonwealth media were already aboard, the ship was nowhere near capacity.
The officer frowned. “I do believe it’s a matter of security, not space. Due to their technical difficulties, we’ve been unable to obtain a proper ID on the ship or its officers. Their vid-comm is also malfunctioning. Our visual of the ship does confirm it as a Republic military ship, Rampion class, but beyond that we’re forced to take them at their word, and I’m sure I don’t need to remind Your Majesty that … your kidnappers were also in a Rampion.”
Kai pretended to consider his point. “The Rampion I was held hostage aboard had the silhouette of a lady painted on its port side. Is there such a marking on the secretary’s ship?”
The officer relayed the question into a comm-chip on his collar, and a moment later confirmed that no such lady was visible. Only black paneling on the boarding ramp.
“There you have it,” said Kai, attempting nonchalance. “We will accept our American allies on board, assuming their podships are in working order. In fact, why don’t I come down to the dock to greet them, as a show of political goodwill?”
“I’ll come as well,” said Torin, setting his port aside.
The first mate looked like he wanted to object but, after an uncertain moment, clicked his heels together and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
* * *
Even the waiting room outside the podship dock was luxurious and Kai found himself tapping his foot on thick carpet while machinery hummed in the surrounding walls. The ship’s captain had joined them, waiting to greet their guests before returning to the bridge, and he and the first mate stood with impeccable posture in their unwrinkled uniforms.
The screen beside the sealed doors announced that the dock was safe to enter.
The captain went first, Kai right behind him. There were six of their own podships waiting, and empty spaces for three more. The Rampion’s shuttle had taken the farthest spot and sat with its engines powering down.
The two doors rose simultaneously and five people emerged—America’s secretary of defense, one assistant, one intern, and two security agents.
The captain shook the secretary’s hand, welcoming the newcomers aboard, followed by a series of diplomatic bows.
“Thank you for your hospitality. We do apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused,” said the secretary, as Kai tried to figure out who this was beneath the illusion. He guessed Thorne and Wolf were the security agents, but the glamour being cast for the Republic’s secretary was perfect, straight down to the mole on the right side of her chin. The assistant and intern were equally convincing. It was impossible to distinguish them from Cinder, Iko, and Cress.
“Evidently,” added the assistant, gaze flashing in Kai’s direction, “this all could have been avoided if the ship’s mechanic had remembered to bring a pair of wire cutters.”
Kai’s mouth twitched. That one, then, was Cinder. He tried to imagine her beneath the glamour, smug over her use of their new “code word.” He refrained from rolling his eyes at her.
“It’s no inconvenience at all,” said Kai, focusing on the secretary. “We’re glad we could be of assistance. Do you need us to send anyone to retrieve your ship?”
“No, thank you. The Republic has already sent a maintenance crew, but we didn’t want to be delayed longer than necessary. We do have a party to get to, you know.”
The secretary winked, very un-diplomat-like. Iko, then.
Remembering Cinder’s warning—that it would be tiring for her to not only glamour herself but also manipulate the perception of her four comrades, and she didn’t know how long she’d be able to maintain it—Kai gestured toward the exit. “Come with me. We have a sitting room where we’ll all be comfortable. Can I offer you some tea?”
“I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks,” said one of the security personnel.
Cinder-the-assistant cast a cold glare at the man. Thorne.
“We’re fine,” said Cinder. “Thank you.”
“Right this way.” Kai and Torin led their guests away from the docking bay, dismissing the captain and first mate. No one spoke until they’d made their way back to his private rooms.
When Kai faced his guests again, the disguises were gone and the reality of seeing five known criminals in his sitting room reminded him that he’d just put everyone aboard this ship in a great amount of danger.
“Is this room secure?” asked Thorne.
“It should be,” said Kai. “We use it for international conferencing and—”
“Cress?”
“On it, Captain.” Cress pulled a portscreen from her back pocket and went to the control panel built into the wall, running whatever system check she’d devised.
“This is Konn Torin, my head adviser. Torin, you remember Cin—”
“Wait,” said Cinder, holding up
a hand.
Kai paused.
Nine long, silent seconds passed between them, before finally Cress unplugged her portscreen. “All clear.”
“Thank you, Cress,” said Thorne.
Cinder lowered her hand. “Now we can talk.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “Right. Torin, you remember Cinder and Iko.”
Torin nodded at them, his arms crossed, and Cinder returned the nod, laced with an equal amount of tension. “I told you I’d return him safely,” she said.
A flicker of irony passed over Torin’s face. “You promised no harm would come to him. In my opinion, that includes physical injury.”
“It was just one punch, Torin.” Kai shrugged at Cinder. “I tried to explain it was all a part of the charade.”
“I understand perfectly, but forgive me for being defensive.” Torin scrutinized their new guests. “Though I’m grateful Kai has been returned, it seems this ordeal is hardly over. I hope you know what you’re doing, Linh Cinder.”
Kai expected her to make some self-deprecating remark about how Torin wasn’t the only one, but instead, after a long silence, Cinder asked, “How much does he know?”
“Everything,” said Kai.
She turned back to Torin. “In that case, thank you for your help. May I introduce you to the rest of our team: Iko you’ve met, and this is our ship’s captain, Carswell Thorne, our software engineer, Cress Darnel, and my security officer … Wolf.”
As Torin greeted their guests with more respect than was required, given the circumstances, Kai’s attention lingered on Cinder. She stood ten full paces away from him, and as much as Kai wanted to cross the room and kiss her, he couldn’t. Maybe it was Torin’s presence. Maybe it was knowing they were on their way to Luna, where he would be married. Maybe he was afraid their time spent on the Rampion had been a dream, too fragile to survive in reality.
Though he’d seen her three days ago, it felt like a lifetime. A wall had been erected between them during that absence, though he wasn’t sure what had changed. Their relationship was precarious. Kai felt like if he breathed the wrong way, he might destroy everything, and he could see the same uncertainty mirrored in Cinder’s face.