Winter

Fifty-Nine

Scarlet waited until this new round of howls abated, echoing off the cave walls, before throwing herself in front of Winter. “You understand,” she said, shoving a finger at Strom, “that by agreeing to help us, you can only attack Queen Levana and the people who serve her. No civilians whatsoever, not even those obnoxious aristocrats, unless they pose a threat. Our goal is to dethrone Levana, not slaughter the whole city. And we’re not giving you all a free meal ticket, either. We expect you to follow orders and make yourselves useful. That could mean training some of the people from the sectors in how to fight or use weapons, or it could mean carrying injured people out of the line of fire … I don’t know. But it does not mean you get to run rampant through the streets of Artemisia destroying everything in sight. Can you agree to that?”

Strom held her gaze, his ferocity once again turning to amusement. “I understand why your mate chose you.”

“I’m not looking for personal commentary,” she spat.

Strom nodded. “We agree to your demands. And when Levana is gone, we will be free men, able to pursue a life of our choosing.”

“So long as that life follows the laws of society—yes. That’s right.”

Strom surveyed the crowd. If it wasn’t for all the blood, it would look as if the killings of the thaumaturges had never happened. “Alpha Perry? Alpha Xu?”

One by one, he counted off the remaining Alphas, and one by one they accepted Scarlet and Winter’s terms. When it was done, Winter turned to Scarlet with a weary yet endearing smile. “I told you they would join us.”

Scarlet inhaled sharply. “We need to find out what’s happening on the surface. Is there some way to communicate with the sectors? To tell them the revolution is going to happen, even if Cinder…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. She had no idea what had become of Cinder, or Wolf.

Wolf. Ze’ev. Her alpha mate.

Thinking of him cut a hole in her chest, so she wouldn’t. She would believe he was alive, because he had to be alive.

“We have to head to the surface anyway,” said Strom. “These lava tubes don’t connect to the maglev tracks. Or—they do, but it will take us too far out of the way. Better to head up to the nearest sector and infiltrate the tunnels that way.”

“Which sector is that?” asked Scarlet.

“LW-12,” someone said. “Lumber and wood production. Dangerous work, lots of injuries. Doubt they’d be too sympathetic to Her Majesty.”

“We might have luck obtaining weaponry there too,” said another.

“How far is it?” asked Scarlet.

“This used to be the storeroom for LW-12.” Strom pointed at the ceiling. “It’s right over our heads.”

* * *

Once they were back in the caves, it took fewer than ten minutes before a man was prying open a metal door that led to a thin stairwell. It seemed like an endless amount of stairs. The confined space quickly become stifling and hot.

“Scarlet-friend?”

Winter’s fragile voice set Scarlet on edge. Pausing, she glanced down the steps and saw the princess using the ancient rail on the wall to pull herself forward as much as her legs were pushing her. Her breathing was labored, and not from the climb.

“What’s wrong?”

“I am a girl made up of ice and snow,” whispered the princess. Her eyes unfocused.

Cursing, Scarlet scrambled around a group of soldiers to get to the princess. Everyone came to a stop, and Scarlet felt oddly touched at the concern she saw in a few of the soldiers’ eyes.

Leave it to Winter to make a bunch of sadistic, hot-headed predators get all swoony over her. Though Scarlet didn’t like to think that what she and Wolf had was built on Wolf’s animal instincts, she couldn’t help but wonder if the same sort of instincts were at play here. Now that they’d persuaded these men to join their cause, were they shifting away from predator-killers to predator-protectors? Perhaps they’d lived with violence and darkness for so long, a single crack in their armor was all it took to have them craving something more meaningful.

Or maybe it was just Winter, who could make a rock fall in love with her if she smiled at it the right way.

“Are you hallucinating?” Scarlet asked, pressing a hand to Winter’s brow, although she wasn’t sure what she was looking to find there. “You don’t feel cold. Can you walk? Are you still breathing?”

Winter’s gaze dropped downward. “My feet are encased in ice cubes.”

“Your feet are fine. Try to walk.”

With an absurd amount of effort, Winter hauled herself onto the next step. She paused again, gasping for breath.

Scarlet sighed. “Fine. You’re a girl of ice and snow. Can somebody help her?”

The nearest soldier took Winter’s wrist and pulled her arm across his shoulders, so she could use his body as a support to climb the stairs. Soon, he was carrying her.

They made it to the top, emerging into a steel holding tank that would have been used to keep in the artificial atmosphere while the domes were under construction. Then they were outside.

Or, as outside as one could ever be on Luna, which Scarlet felt was a sad representation.

“Is this supposed to be a forest?” she muttered, taking in the short, skinny trees in their perfect rows. Through the trunks in the distance she could see a vast area that had been recently cleared for timber, and to the other side, acres of young saplings.

Straight ahead, in the direct center of the dome, she could make out the shape of a water fountain, identical to the one from the mining sector, situated in a clearing among the trees. The grass looked untended around it.

Alpha Strom took the lead, heading away from the fountain and toward the residences on the perimeter. They could hear people. A lot of people. When they reached the main residential street, Scarlet saw dozens of civilians holding an assortment of weapons (mostly wooden sticks), standing in neat rows and being guided through a series of attack maneuvers. A barrel-chested, bearded man was walking through the rows, yelling things like, “Parry! Jab! There’s someone behind you!”

Even Scarlet’s untrained eye could see that the people’s movements were jerky and uncoordinated, and the people were a sad lot—most as gaunt and hungry looking as those in the mining sector. Still, it was heartening to know the people were heeding Cinder’s call.

Scarlet had the gut-wrenching thought that they could be sending these people to their deaths, but she shook it off.

A bewildered scream interrupted the training. They’d been spotted.

Scarlet and a hundred mutants emerged from the forest’s shadows. The scream turned into a dozen more and the rows broke apart, pulled back. But the people didn’t run. Instead, as Scarlet and the mountainous soldiers came nearer, the people lifted their weapons, trying to disguise their terror behind feigned courage. Or perhaps this was the truest courage there was.

The people had probably expected something like this. It would not be a surprise that Levana would punish them for this blatant show of rebellion. But a hundred soldiers must have been far beyond their expectations.

True to their word, the soldiers did not attack, just lumbered forward until they stood twenty paces from the first row of citizens.

Scarlet kept going, separating herself from the crowd.

“I know they’re scary looking,” she said, “but we’re not here to hurt you. We’re friends of Princess Selene’s. And you might recognize Her Highness, Princess Winter.”

Winter’s head rolled against the shoulder of the man who was holding her. “It is a most profound pleasure to meet you all,” she murmured, sounding half-drunk. Scarlet was proud of her for making the effort.

The people tightened their grips around their staffs, or spears, or whatever those were supposed to be.

The bearded man pushed his way to the front of the crowd, looking both tough and anxious at once. “Princess Winter is dead.”

“No, she’s not,” said Scarlet. “The queen tried to have her killed, but she failed. Everything she’s told you has been a lie.”

The man stared at Winter for a long time, his face contorted with suspicion.

“It’s not a glamour,” said Scarlet. “It really is her.” She hesitated, rolling her eyes. “Not that I have any way to prove that. But if we wanted to kill you, why bother with this charade? Look, we’re here to join you in your siege on Artemisia. These men have agreed to fight on our behalf.”

The man studied her. “Who are you?”

“My name is Scarlet Benoit. I’m—” She struggled to think of what to call herself. The pilot? The alpha female?

“She’s an Earthen,” someone said. It annoyed her that they could tell so easily, like she was branded somehow.

“I’m a friend of Princess Selene’s,” she said. “And I’m a friend of Princess Winter’s. And not very long ago I was a prisoner of Queen Levana. She took my finger”—she held up her hand—“and she took my grandmother, and now I intend to help Selene take everything from her.” She gestured at the soldiers. “These men have chosen our side over Levana’s, just like you have, and they’re the best assets we’ve got. Maybe they can help with your combat training.” She turned to Strom. “Right?”

Strom’s expression, though, was not appeasing as he stepped up beside her. “We said we would help and we will, but we’re not going to stand out here all night listening to negotiations with a bunch of lumberjacks. If they don’t want us here, we’ll find a sector that does.”

Scarlet snorted. “Good luck.”

He growled at her. Scarlet growled back.

Lips pressed into a thin line, the bearded man glanced from the nervous civilians with their sharpened sticks, to the brawny, fur-covered soldiers. “We’ve been sending messengers to the nearest sectors when we can, but it’s difficult trying to coordinate the attack. The shuttles are all down. And we aren’t warriors.”

“Clearly,” one of the soldiers grumbled.

Someone in the crowd hissed, “Tell them about the guards.”

Scarlet raised her eyebrows as the crowd’s fear was replaced with puffing chests and straightened spines. “Guards?”

“We’ve had a regiment of armed guards stationed here for years, and we’ve talked about trying to overwhelm them, even made plans for it before, but it always seemed pointless when Levana would just send more. But as soon as Selene’s message came through…” He grinned back at his peers. “Our plan worked. We had them disarmed within minutes, and now they’re locked up in one of the storerooms in the mill.” He crossed his arms. “There were fatalities, but we knew there would be. We’re willing to do what must be done, just like the people in RM-9. I believe Selene has given us what might be our only chance.”

Scarlet blinked. “What about the people in RM-9?”

“They say Selene was there, and there was a woman housing her. She was just a miner, no one special, like us, but she proved how brave we can be.”

“Maha Kesley,” whispered Scarlet.

The man jolted in surprise. “That’s right.” He glanced back at the gathered people, his jaw set. “She was killed for offering her home to our true queen, but her death won’t be in vain, just like the deaths of all those who stood up to Levana in the past.”

Scarlet nodded, though she was still reeling. Aimery had intended for Maha’s death to act as a warning to anyone who sided with Cinder, but here, at least, it had the opposite effect.

Maha Kesley had become a martyr.

“You’re right,” she said. “Selene doesn’t need you to be warriors. Maha Kesley certainly wasn’t, but she was brave and believed in our cause. That resolve is what this revolution needs.”

“A few more warriors wouldn’t hurt,” Strom muttered, grabbing a stick away from the nearest civilian, who shrank away. “Everyone—back in formation! Let’s see if we can’t make you look a little less pathetic.”