Winter

Sixteen

The audio feed disconnected with a soft click, leaving the cargo bay in silence. Sitting atop one of the now-empty storage crates, Cress glanced around, taking in Cinder’s tense shoulders as she stared at the blank netscreen, the way Wolf was tapping his fingers against his elbows, and Iko, who was still focused on the portscreen on her lap, trying to figure out her next move in the game she and Cress had been playing for the last hour.

“He did it,” mumbled Cinder.

“Of course he did,” said Iko, without looking up. “We knew he would.”

Turning her back on the screen, Cinder scratched idly at her wrist. “The eighth is a lot sooner than I’d expected. I bet Earthen leaders will start departing within the next forty-eight hours.”

“Good,” said Wolf. “The wait is driving me crazy.”

No, the separation from Scarlet was driving him crazy, Cress knew, but no one said anything. Maybe the wait was driving them all a little crazy.

“Jester to A1!” Iko finally announced. Beaming, she held the port out to Cress.

“King to C4, and I claim all rubies,” said Cress, without hesitation.

Iko paused, looked down at the screen, and deflated. “How are you so good at this?”

Cress felt a rush of pride behind her sternum, although she wasn’t sure if such a talent was impressive or embarrassing. “I played this a lot when I was bored on the satellite. And I got bored a lot.”

“But my brain is supposed to be superior.”

“I’ve only ever played against a computer if that makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t.” Iko crinkled her nose. “I want that diamond.” Setting the port back into her lap, she fisted her hand around a ponytail of braids, once again deep in concentration.

Cinder cleared her throat, drawing Cress’s focus, but not Iko’s. “Kai will have a fleet with him. It’s imperative we know which ship he’s on.”

Cress nodded. “I can find out.”

“This plan will work,” said Wolf forcefully, like he was threatening the plan itself. He started to pace between the cockpit and medbay. His and Cinder’s anxiety made Cress more nervous than anything.

This was it, their only chance. Either it worked, or they failed.

“Crown-maker to A12.”

It took Cress a moment to switch her thoughts back to the game. Iko had made the move she expected her to, the same move her computer aboard the satellite would have made.

Cress sacrificed her Jester, then proceeded to sneak her Thief across the board, snatching up every loose emerald, until even Iko’s coveted diamond wouldn’t win her the game.

“Ah! Why didn’t I see that?” Growling, Iko pushed the portscreen away. “I never liked this game anyway.”

“Podship detected,” said the Rampion’s monotone voice. Cress jumped, every muscle in her body tightening. “Captain Thorne is requesting permission to dock. Submitted code word: Captain is King.”

She exhaled, relieved not only that they hadn’t been spotted by an enemy ship, but that Thorne was back. All the worry she’d been harboring since he and Kai had left rose to the surface of her skin and evaporated with a single breath.

“Permission granted,” said Cinder, a fair amount of relief in her tone as well. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Step one complete. Kai is back on Earth, the wedding is rescheduled to take place on Luna, and Thorne has returned safely.” She rocked back on her heels, a crease between her eyebrows. “I can’t believe nothing went wrong.”

“I would wait until you’re sitting on a throne before making statements like that,” said Wolf.

Cinder twisted her lips. “Good point. All right, everyone.” She slapped her hands together. “Let’s get started on any last-minute preparations. Cress and Iko, you’re in charge of making final edits to the video. Wolf, I need you to—”

The door to the sublevel hatch burst open, crashing against the wall. Thorne heaved himself up the ladder and immediately rounded on Cinder, who took a startled step back.

“You painted my ship?” he yelled. “Why—what—why would you do that?”

Cinder opened her mouth, but hesitated. She had clearly expected a different sort of greeting. “Oh. That.” She glanced around at Cress, Wolf, and Iko, like asking for backup. “I thought—wow, that was a long time ago. I guess I should have mentioned it.”

“Mentioned it? You shouldn’t have—! You can’t go around painting someone else’s ship! Do you know how long it took me to paint that girl in the first place?”

Cinder squinted one eye shut. “Judging from how precise and detailed it was, I’m going to guess … ten minutes? Fifteen?”

Thorne scowled.

“All right, I’m sorry. But the silhouette was too recognizable. It was a liability.”

“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.”