Scarlet’s body shook as the memory of her grandmother’s death hit her like a hammer to her skull. The despair that had engulfed her. All the fury and hatred and the certainty thumping into her again and again that she should have been able to stop it.
But she couldn’t have stopped it.
Just like Wolf couldn’t have protected Maha. Just like he wouldn’t be able to protect her.
She couldn’t do that to him.
Scarlet scrunched up her face, choking back a violent scream.
Don’t react, Scarlet, she told herself. Don’t react.
She lowered the gun and stepped back. She looked up at Thorne, and though there was pain etched into his brow, too, he nodded in understanding.
Aimery’s calm voice drifted toward them. “Linh Cinder will be tried and no doubt executed for her crimes against the crown. It is by the queen’s mercy alone that I will spare the rest of your lives. But take note that anyone caught speaking of the cyborg and her treasonous plots or conducting any sort of rebellious activity will receive a swift punishment.”
Scarlet glanced back in time to see a guard shove Wolf hard between the shoulder blades, and he and Cinder were led away.
* * *
“Princess!” Iko said, keeping her volume as loud as she dared, which wasn’t all that loud considering. “Princess, where are you?” She backtracked through the house, scouring each room for the third time. Winter was not in any cabinets or closets. She was not under Maha’s bed. She was not in the tiny shower or …
Well, that was it. Those were the only hiding places.
It was a really small house and Winter wasn’t there.
Iko returned to the living room, feeling the rumble of her fan in her chest, air escaping through the porous fibers in her back. She was still overheated from the run through the sector, dodging in and out of abandoned homes in an attempt to be discreet.
Had Winter already been found? Was she too late?
She didn’t have the answers. She forced herself to pause and organize the information she did have.
Levana’s minions were in RM-9. They had rounded up every citizen and she was relatively certain it wasn’t to throw them a party.
Cinder and the others were still in that factory, as far as she knew, and she would have no way of knowing if they were safe until she saw them again.
She did not know where Princess Winter was.
She considered her options. Sneaking back to the factory to rejoin Cinder seemed like a logical next step, but she would be endangering herself by doing so. This didn’t bother her so much as her fear of falling into enemy hands. Lunars didn’t seem to know much about android data systems, but if they managed to dissect her programming they would find a lot of confidential information about Cinder and her strategies.
She could wait for her friends to return, safe and unharmed, but this option went against her most basic programming. She despised being useless.
She was still debating when she heard heavy footsteps outside the front door. Iko startled and ran into the kitchen, tucking herself beneath a counter.
The door banged open. Someone entered and Iko picked out the slight auditory differences in the footsteps. Three intruders were inside the house.
They stopped in the main room.
A male voice said, “The database confirms this as the residence of Maha Kesley.”
A short silence was followed by a female voice. “I sense someone, but their energy is faint. Perhaps m.u.f.fled behind a barrier of some sort.”
Iko frowned. Surely they couldn’t sense her? Cinder had always insisted that Iko could not be detected by the Lunar gift, given that she didn’t produce bioelectricity.
“In my experience with the cyborg,” said a third voice, also male, “she does not always react as one would expect to mind control and manipulation. Perhaps she is capable of disguising her energy as well?”
“Perhaps,” said the woman, though she sounded doubtful. “Kinney, search the perimeter and neighboring homes. Jerrico, check the bedrooms.”
“Yes, Mistress Pereira.”
The footsteps scattered. The front door shut again.
It was a small house. Only moments had pa.s.sed before the woman entered the tiny kitchen and Iko saw the fluttering sleeves of a red thaumaturge coat. She came to stand in the center of the closet-size kitchen, so close Iko could have touched her. But she didn’t look down or bother to open any of the cupboards.
From her crouched position, Iko stared up at the woman’s profile. Her gray hair was cut in a bob, and though she was one of the older thaumaturges Iko had seen, she was still beautiful, with sharp cheekbones and full lips. Her hands were tucked into her sleeves.
She stood still for a long moment, her brow drawn. Iko suspected she was searching for more traces of bioelectricity, and it became clear she was not about to notice Iko beside her.
Iko held still, glad she didn’t have to stifle her breathing—good stars above, when she’d been trapped in the s.p.a.ceship closet with Cinder and the others, the noise of their combined breaths had been earsplitting.
But then her fan kicked in again.
The woman glanced down and started.
Iko raised a hand in greeting. “h.e.l.lo.”
The thaumaturge studied her for a long, long moment, before she stammered, “A sh.e.l.l?”
“Close.” Iko s.n.a.t.c.hed a dish towel off the counter and lunged for the woman. A yelp escaped before Iko pressed the towel against her face, stifling the scream. The thaumaturge thrashed, but Iko held her firm against the wall, biting back her instinctive apology as she watched the woman’s face pale, her eyes widen in panic.