Winter

Seventy-Nine

Cinder stayed at the front of their small army, along with Alpha Strom. The subway tunnels were wide enough to walk in rows of five and Strom had made sure everyone knew this was to be their formation—to deviate in such confined quarters could lead to panic and confusion. They tried to be quiet, but it was impossible. They progressed like a roll of thunder. Thousands of feet pounding against the rocky terrain inside the lava tubes.

The mutant soldiers stayed near the front, the first line of defense, while the people from the outer sectors followed behind.

It had become a numbers game, and their numbers were growing. Every sector they passed through had new civilians joining their cause, many who had been preparing from the moment Cinder’s first message had broadcast.

Cinder kept running the calculations over and over in her head, but there were still too many variables to factor. They needed enough civilians to overthrow the queen and her thaumaturges, and enough un-manipulated fighters left to take on the guards and any wolf soldiers Levana brought to her defense. She was relying on Jacin and Winter to spread the word, and fast. If they failed, it would become a massacre, and not in their favor. If they succeeded …

The tunnels were pitch-black but for the lanterns scavenged by the people in the outer sectors and a handful of flashlights. Cinder wished she had a map in her head telling her how far they’d gone and how much farther they had to go. She’d become accustomed to having infinite data within her grasp, and it was disconcerting now to be without it. After five years of wishing she was like everyone else, now she missed all those conveniences that had come with being cyborg.

Four times they came across stalled trains and shuttles that filled up the confined space of the tunnel. These had at first seemed like insurmountable obstacles, but the soldiers went forward with zeal, prying off the panels, tearing up the interior seats, trampling their way through the other side. They made for an efficient, destructive machine, and their makeshift army was given passage through.

Although the maglev system had been shut down, power was still being sent out on the grid and the platforms they passed were well lit with a holograph of the mandatory-viewing video feed of the coronation. Unable to record the ceremony itself, as the queen would not be donning her veil, a broadcaster was relaying a moment-by-moment breakdown of the event.

As they entered into AR-4, one of the sectors adjacent to Artemisia Central, Cinder heard Kai’s voice and paused. He was reciting the vows to become the king consort of Luna.

Their army divided into four regiments. Each would enter the capital through a different tunnel. As the alphas led their packs and the civilians in opposite directions, Cinder caught sight of Strom, watching her.

“We should keep moving,” he said. “My men are hungry and restless, and you’ve put us in a confined space with a lot of sweet-smelling flesh.”

Cinder raised an eyebrow. “If they need a snack, tell them to chew on each other for a while. I just want to make sure Jacin has enough time to reach as many sectors as possible.”

Strom smirked, as if impressed at Cinder’s inability to be bullied. “It’s time to move,” he repeated. “Our people are almost in position. The queen and her entourage are all in one place. We may be sitting down here for weeks waiting for more civilians that never show up.”

Cinder believed they would come. They had to come. But she also knew he was right.

The coronation was almost over.

They started creeping through the tunnels again. Hands tightened on their weapons. Paces slowed with mounting anxiety. They hadn’t gone much farther when Cinder’s flashlight caught on iron bars in the distance. Strom held up a hand, signaling for everyone to stop.

“The barricade.” Cinder sent her flashlight beam into the wall around the iron grate. It would take weeks to dig around it.

“There’s no way through,” said Strom. He was snarling as he looked at Cinder, as if this were her fault. “If this is a trap, it’s a good one. They could kill us all in a heartbeat while we’re stuffed like sausages in these tunnels.”

“Cress was supposed to open them,” she said. “They should have been down by now. Unless…” Unless Cress and Thorne had failed. Unless they’d been caught. “What time is it?”

She looked at Strom, but he had no idea. He didn’t have a clock in his head, either.

Cress was supposed to set all of the barricades surrounding the city to open at once, to keep enthusiastic revolutionaries from sneaking into the city too soon and winding up dead or giving away their surprise. Had Cress failed, or were they early? Kai was still reciting his vows. Cinder shoved down her rising panic.

Strom started to growl. “I smell something.”

The surrounding soldiers turned their noses up, sniffing the air.

“Something synthetic,” said Strom. “Something Earthen. A machine.”

Cinder pressed a hand against the bars, but the soldiers pulled her away, forming a protective wall between her and the barricade. As if she was worth protecting.

Cinder tried not to be annoyed.

Footsteps thumped in the tunnel beyond the gate, growing louder. A kicked pebble skittered along the ground. A flashlight came into view, though the carrier was still cast in shadow.

The beam darted over the gathered soldiers and the figure froze.

The soldiers snarled.

“Well,” she said. “What a menacing bunch you are.”

Cinder’s heart sputtered. “Iko!” she cried, trying to shove her way through, but the bodies blocking her were unshovable.

Iko moved closer and Cinder was able to catch her in the beam of her own light. She gasped and stopped struggling. Iko’s right arm was hanging limp again and there were bullet holes and ripped synthetic tissue and dead wires all over her body. Her left ear was missing.

“Oh, Iko … what happened?”

“More stupid Lunar guards, that’s what happened. He cornered me in the basement of the med-clinic and did this. I had to play dead until he left me alone. Good thing they have no idea how to kill an android here.”

“Iko. I’m so sorry.”

Iko waved her away with her good arm. “I don’t feel like talking about it. Are you being held prisoner right now, or are these bullies on our side?”

“They’re on our side.”

Iko’s attention swooped over the wolves again. “Are you sure?”

“Not entirely,” said Cinder. “But they’re the army Scarlet and Winter recruited and they’re the best we’ve got. They haven’t eaten anybody yet.”

Strom smirked at her around his protruding fangs.

“Iko, what time is it? Shouldn’t the gates be open by now?”

“We’re right on schedule. T minus seventeen seconds, by my—”

The sound of machinery groaned and creaked inside the stone walls. The grate began to descend into the rocky ground.

Iko’s lips puckered. “Cress’s timing is off, not mine.”

Cinder exhaled with relief.

While the grate disappeared, the wolves returned to formation, hands locked behind their backs, chins lifted. It was the most professional Cinder had seen them, making them look more like men than monsters. And very, very much like soldiers.

As soon as the grate was low enough, Iko hurled herself over it and fell into Cinder’s arms, her good hand flopping against Cinder’s back. “You will fix me again, won’t you?”

Cinder squeezed her back. “Of course I will. Broken isn’t the same as unfixable.”

Pulling away, Iko beamed, and the smile was punctuated by a spark flying out of her empty ear cavity. “I love you, Cinder.”

Cinder grinned. “I love you too.”

“Why are we not moving?” said Strom, his voice rumbling through the tunnel. “We grow impatient to shred Levana and her court into tiny, bite-size pieces. We will suck the marrow from their bones and drink their blood as if it were fine wine.”

Iko fixed an uncomfortable look on Cinder. “Good thing they’re on our side.”