This was different. The people weren’t blinded by Cinder’s glamour or being manipulated into seeing her as their rightful queen. They were seeing her as she truly was.
“Alpha Strom, the map,” said Cinder, with an excited gesture.
Strom handed her a holograph node and Cinder pulled up an image that everyone could see, outlining the path they would take into the capital.
“We’re going to divide into two groups to allow for faster passage through the tunnels,” she said, indicating the routes on the map. “When we reach AR-4 and AR-6, we’ll divide our numbers further to disperse between the eight entrances into Artemisia. At every sector we pass, we’ll need volunteers to rally as many people to our cause as possible. Gather weapons and supplies, then keep moving. Remember, our safety lies in numbers. She keeps the sectors divided for a reason. She knows that she’s powerless if we all stand together, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”
Another roar from the crowd, but Cinder—wild-eyed and exhilarated—had already turned toward the steps.
Winter straightened, for once proud to be standing before her queen.
“We’ve seen evidence that at least eighty-seven other sectors have joined our cause, and I have every reason to believe that number has continued to increase. With the shuttles down, that terrain-speeder is the best method we have for spreading our news quickly and ensuring that all civilians are joined into one solid force moving into Artemisia. Jacin, I’ve made a list of sectors I want you to go to—those that showed evidence of rebellion already and should have access to weapons. Also those closest to Artemisia that offer a solid hope for increasing our numbers fast. Hit as many as you can in the next two hours, then meet us in the tunnels beneath AR-4 at—”
“No.”
Cinder blinked. Her lips stayed half-wrapped around an unspoken word. She blinked again. “Excuse me?”
“I won’t leave Winter.”
A shiver coursed over Winter’s skin, but Jacin didn’t look at her.
Mouth still open, Cinder looked at Winter, then Scarlet, then back at Jacin. She shut her mouth with a scowl and turned to Scarlet again. “Can you fly it?”
“I’ve never even seen one of those things before. Does it fly like a spaceship?”
Cinder’s withering glare returned to Jacin. “I need you to do it. I trust you, and—”
“I said no.”
She shook her head, disbelieving. Then angry. “What do you think is going to happen to Winter, to any of us, if we lose?”
Jacin crossed his arms, ready to argue again, when Winter placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll go with him,” she said lightly, so her words might defuse some of the tension.
It didn’t work. Jacin’s glower turned on her. “No, you will stay here and recover from almost dying. Besides, Levana’s been given enough chances to kill you. You’re not going anywhere near Artemisia.”
She fixed her eyes on him, feeling the stir of determination she’d had when she decided to find her stepmother’s army and bring them to her side. “I may not be able to fight, but I can be useful. I’ll come with you and talk to the people. They’ll listen to me.”
“Princess, we don’t have to—”
“I’ve already made my decision. I have as much to lose as any of them.”
“She makes some good points,” said Cinder.
“Surprisingly,” added Scarlet.
Jacin pushed Winter out of their little circle, into a semblance of privacy. “Look,” he whispered, gripping her elbows. She could feel the calluses on his hands, more poignant than she’d ever felt them before. Her pulse galloped at the unexpected intimacy. “If you want me to do this thing for Cinder, then I’ll do it. For you. But I won’t—I can’t lose you again.”
Winter smiled and pressed her palms against his cheeks. “There is no safer place for me than at your side.”
His jaw tightened. She could see the war in his thoughts, but she was already resolved.
“I have lived in fear of her my entire life,” she continued. “If this is the only chance I’m given to stand against her, then I have to take it. I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to be afraid. And I don’t want to be separated from you, ever again.”
His shoulders started to droop, the first indication she’d won. He raised a finger between them. “Fine. We’ll go together. But you are not to touch any weapons, understand?”
“What would I do with a weapon?”
“Exactly.”
“Jacin, Winter.” Cinder was tapping her foot, her eyes wild with growing impatience. “We’re sort of on a tight—”
As if the sky itself were listening, the dome overhead darkened, and three enormous screens lit up against the black backdrop.
“People of Luna,” said a feminine voice, “please give your full attention now to this mandatory broadcast, live from Artemisia Palace. The royal coronation ceremony is about to begin.”
A wicked grin pulled at Winter’s lips. She stepped away from Jacin, faced the people, and raised her arms to her sides. “People of Luna,” she said, echoing the broadcast and pulling the crowd’s attention away from the dome, “please give your full attention now to the true heir to the Lunar throne, Princess Selene, live from your very own sector.” Her eyes flashed as she swooped an arm toward Cinder. “Our revolution is about to begin.”
BOOK
Five
The mirror answered: “You, my queen, are fair; it’s true.
But the young queen is far more fair than you.”
Seventy-Eight
Kai barreled down the hallway, glad no one was around to see him sprinting in his coronation finery, though his thoughts were too full to worry about appearances. Cinder was alive. Thorne was captured. Cinder was going to invade Artemisia.
Today. Now.
He still felt guilty for leaving Cress alone. He should have done more. He shouldn’t have cared how late he was to this coronation, a ceremony he had no desire to be a part of to begin with. He should have taken more pleasure in making Levana wait. He should have faked another kidnapping.
He cursed inside, wishing he would have thought of that sooner.
But, no—his going missing would set off alarms and the last thing Cress and the others needed were alarms. The best thing he could do to quell Levana’s suspicions was to go forward as if nothing had changed.
The best thing he could do was crown her empress of his country.
It made him sick to think it, but he would stick to the plan. He would play his part.
He spun around a corner, nearly toppling a statue of some chisel-muscled moon god. Kai grabbed the statue, righting it while his heart launched into his throat. When both he and the statue had calmed, he shoved his way through the double doors that led into a series of private waiting chambers.
Two guards flanked the doorway into the great hall. Torin was seated on a cushioned bench beside a woman with gold, poufed hair, who gasped with such fervor Kai thought she might pass out.
“Oh, thank you, Artemis!” she said, pressing a cloth to her brow. “Where have you been?”
“I told you he was on his way,” said Torin.