Cress (45 page)

At least, until it was time to draw some attention away from Cinder and Cress.

The surface of the wall changed beneath his fingers, from a warm, papery texture, to something cool and smooth. He heard a door open.

“Here,” said the doctor. “More stairs.”

“Why not take the elevator?”

“It’s android operated. Would require an authorized ID chip.”

Thorne gripped the handrail and followed the doctor up, and up. The doctor had to stop twice to catch his breath, and Thorne waited, trying to be patient, all the while wondering what Cress was doing. If she would be ready when the time came.

He didn’t dwell on it. She was with Wolf. She would be fine.

Finally, the doctor pushed open another door. A short distance across hard, slick floors. The new hum of lights overhead.

“Cozy Lab 6D. This is where I met the princess, you know.”

“Lab 6D. Right. I’ve had good success meeting princesses in research labs myself.” His nose wrinkled. The room smelled of hospitals, sterile and cold and medicinal.

“There’s a lab table about four steps ahead of you. Lie down.”

“Really? You don’t want to take a break, catch your breath…?”

“We don’t have
time.
”

Gulping, Thorne inched forward until his hand smacked a padded table. He sought out the edge before lifting himself onto it. Tissue paper crinkled beneath him. “But isn’t this the part where you shove sharp objects into my pelvic bone? Maybe we don’t want to rush.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes. Terribly so, yes.”

The doctor snorted. “Just like you. To finally show a bit of humanity beneath the arrogance, and of course it’s only a concern for yourself. I’m hardly surprised.”

“Wouldn’t
you
be a little concerned in this situation? My eyesight. My pelvis.”

“My country. My princess. My daughter.”

“What
daughter
? What are you even talking about?”

The doctor harrumphed and Thorne could hear him banging through drawers. “I suppose your eyesight
was
lost while attempting to rescue Crescent from that satellite. For that alone, I suppose I do owe you.”

Thorne scratched his cheek. “I suppose you do?”

“Did she tell you, by chance, how long she’d been imprisoned?”

“Cress? Seven years, in the satellite.”

“Seven years!”

“Yeah. Before that I guess she was kept with a bunch of other shells in some volcanic dormitories or something. I don’t remember. That thaumaturge had been collecting blood samples from them, but Cress didn’t seem to know why.”

A cabinet door slammed shut, followed by silence.

“Doctor?”

“Collecting blood samples? From shells?”

“Weird, right? But at least she wasn’t subjected to any bizarre genetic tampering like Wolf.” Thorne shook his head. “I’m not sure about those Lunar scientists. They seem to be doing a lot of crazy stuff up there.”

Another silence, before more rustling. Thorne heard a chair or a table being wheeled toward him.

“They must have been using shell blood to develop the antidote,” the doctor mused. “But the timing doesn’t make sense. She was taken before letumosis even broke out, here on Earth. Before it was known to exist.”

Thorne tilted his ear toward the doctor as his rambling faded off. “What now?”

“Unless …
Unless.
”

“Unless … what now?”

“Oh, stars. That’s why they wanted them. The poor children. My poor, sweet Crescent Moon…”

Thorne settled his chin on his palm. “Never mind. You finish your nonsensical ramblings and let me know when you’re ready to proceed.”

Another rumble of wheels on the hard floor. “You do not deserve her, you know,” the doctor said, with a new edge to his tone.

“I’m sure I—wait, what?”

“I hope she comes to her senses soon, because I see how she looks at you and I do not care for it, not one bit.”

“Who are we talking about?”

Something clattered as the doctor dropped what Thorne assumed were medical tools onto a metal tray. “It doesn’t matter now. Lie down.”

“Pause one second. And be honest.” Thorne held up a finger. “Are you having a mental breakdown right now?”

The doctor huffed. “Carswell Thorne. I may have just made a very important discovery that must be shared with Emperor Kaito and the other Earthen leaders immediately. But that cannot happen until we have finished with this whole charade. Now, by my estimation, we have fewer than five minutes to extract the needed stem cells and divide them for the regenerating solution. I may not like you, but I am aware that we are on the same side, and we are both invested in seeing Cress and Cinder leave this palace today, alive. Now, are you going to trust me or not?”

Thorne considered the question for probably longer than the doctor wanted him to, before he sighed and lay back on the table. “Ready when you are. But first, don’t forget to—”

“I haven’t forgotten. Activating letumosis outbreak alarm—now.”

Thorne heard the soft pad of fingertips on a netscreen, and then a blaring siren screamed through the halls.

Forty-Nine

Cress was getting antsy. The royal nuptials were slated to begin in a mere twenty-seven minutes, and as far as she could tell, all guards and security personnel were still very much at their stations. On top of that, she and Wolf were running out of ways to make themselves inconspicuous without having to relocate to their seats. So far they’d each nibbled at the prawn hors d’oeuvres being waiter-passed (Cress: one, Wolf: six), taken turns excusing themselves to pretend to use the washroom while really trying to discern if any of the guards appeared concerned about a potential security breach, and three times Cress had had to laugh dreamily and hold Wolf’s hand in order to get some loitering female admirer to mosey on. It was the most impressive acting she’d ever done, because touching Wolf made her uneasy and it was difficult to imagine him making any jokes.

“Maybe we should start thinking of a Plan B,” Cress murmured when she noticed that the symphony had begun replaying their set.

“Already done,” said Wolf.

She peered up at him. “Really? What is it?”

“We continue on to the security center as planned. I just have to knock out a lot more guards between here and there.”

She chewed on her lip, not terribly enthusiastic with Plan B.

Then— “There. Look.”

She followed his gesture. Two guards were speaking with their heads lowered. One had badges indicating a significantly higher rank. He pointed down a corridor, in the direction of the research wing.

Well, it was really in the direction of just about anything, but Cress hoped he was talking about a disturbance in the research wing. That would mean that the others had made it inside and raised the alarms.

A second later, the two guards left the ballroom.

“Do you think they’ve done it?” Cress said.

“Time to find out.”

Wolf offered her his elbow and together they meandered out into the main corridor. The remaining guards paid them no attention as they turned down a connecting hallway. Cress kept repeating the instructions that she’d memorized—take the fourth hallway on the right, past the courtyard with the tortoise fountain, then the second left. Her heart began to pound fervently in her chest.

Twice they were stopped by palace staff, and twice they asked for directions like confused, slightly drunk wedding guests and had to backtrack to a safe hiding place before Wolf deemed it safe to move again. But no alarm was raised and no guards came for them. Cress knew they had already been captured on countless cameras set throughout the palace, but she and Wolf wouldn’t be recognizable like Cinder or Thorne or Dr. Erland, and even if they did raise suspicions, she hoped everyone would be too distracted by the emergency in the research labs to care. Still, the farther they got from the ballroom, the less likely it was that anyone would buy their innocence act.

She was grateful when Wolf’s pace picked up. Cinder and Iko would be waiting on them now, and they were running out of time.

They reached a skybridge that locked together two of the palace’s towers. The glass floor showed a peaceful stream bubbling underneath, amid lush grasses and heavy-headed chrysanthemums. Past the bridge, they found themselves in a circular lobby, with empty seating arrangements carved from dark wood, statues of mythical creatures circling the perimeter, and a jungle of potted bamboos and orchids giving the room a heady scent.

Recognizing the space, Cress marched to a three-foot carving of a luck dragon and spun it around on its pedestal to face the wall. “Lunar camera in the left eye,” she explained, then hurried toward the elevators.

A white android stood in the center of the elevator bank with its pronged grippers folded in front of its abdomen. It flashed a blue sensor over them.

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” it said, in a perfect monotone meant to convey a diplomatic lack of bias. “We are experiencing a level-one security breach and all elevators have been temporarily shut down. Please enjoy a hot cup of tea while we wait for clearance.” One of its prongs gestured to an alcove where a machine held a fine porcelain teapot, steaming at its spout, and an assortment of leaves and spices.

“Do you have security override capabilities?” Cress asked the android.

“I do, but only an official code or—”

Cress crouched down and swiveled the android away from her. “Don’t suppose you have a screwdriver or something we can use to open the control panel?”

“—a palace official with sufficient clearance—”

Wolf stooped over her, dug his fingernails into the groove, and snapped the whole panel off in his fist.

“—could override a level-one security breach. I apologize for the continued inconvenience, but I have to ask that you—”

Wolf pulled the portscreen that the doctor had given him out of his pocket and passed it to Cress. She yanked out a connector cable and plugged it into the android, stopping the automatic diagnostics scan before it could begin. She began a manual search for the security override settings.

“—stop tampering with official government property. Tampering with a royal android could result in a fine of up to 5,000 univs and six months of— Identity confirmed: Royal Adviser Konn Torin. Security override complete. Awaiting instructions.”

“Elevator to main floor,” said Cress.

“Proceed to Elevator A.”

Cress ejected the cable. Wolf pulled her to her feet as the nearest doors opened and tugged her inside.

Her heart was thumping as the elevator descended. She imagined those doors opening again onto an army of guards, their guns aimed and ready. She figured that by now they were no doubt being watched. Thorne’s distraction could only count for so much, and there were two cameras in each elevator in the palace. The only question was how long it would take any guards to reach them once they figured out where they were heading.

The elevator came to a stop. The doors hesitated for too long, and her pulse fluttered wildly, until they opened onto an empty hallway. She released a long-held breath.

This floor of the palace was mostly business space, used for diplomatic meetings and the offices of a multitude of government officials. She recognized bits and pieces of it. The name plaque on that desk. The painting on that wall. In her head, Cress was back in her satellite, even as she and Wolf jogged through the carpeted corridor. She was seeing Wolf and herself through the cameras along the ceilings. She was picturing how the two of them would have looked to her from up there, always disconnected and uninvolved and watching, watching. As they rounded a corner, she imagined herself clicking to another feed. As they passed one camera, she pictured it changing from their front view to their backs.

They reached the next elevator bank without issue, though this one had no watchful android.

She tapped the elevator key, but it remained blank. The words
ELEVATORS TEMPORARILY DOWN DUE TO LV. 1 BREACH
were scrolled across its screen in red text. Cress scowled and dug her fingernails around the frame. Surely there was a way to get clearance in the event that someone important enough needed to get past, but without a designated android—

She was grabbed by the elbow and hauled back. She yelped, thinking for a moment a guard had captured her, but it was only Wolf pulling her toward an alcove.

“Stairs,” he said, yanking open a door. As it shut behind them, Cress heard the sounds of boots clomping in the distance.

Her heart leaped into her throat and she glanced at Wolf to see if he’d heard, but before she could speak, he swept her over one shoulder and was jumping over the stairs, leaping down to the landing in a single bound. She squealed, but then clamped her hand over her mouth to rein in her sudden terror.

Down, down, down. Finally they passed a plaque labeled
SUBLEVEL D: MAINTENANCE / SECURITY
.

This time, when Wolf set her down and pushed open the door, it felt as if they were no longer inside the palace at all. The walls were plain white, the floors dull concrete gray. The stairwell had spilled them into a small lobby, with the elevator off to their left and a cluttered desk in front of them. Behind the desk was a room fully enclosed in tinted glass, where an empty chair sat before a bank of three dozen screens showing security footage within the palace and the surrounding property. Four of the screens were flashing security-breach warnings.

And then there was the guard, aiming a gun at them.

“Stay where you are! Put your hands where I can see them!”

Cress shakily moved to follow his command, but before her fingertips could even brush her hair, Wolf had shoved her out of the way. She cried out and fell to the ground. Her dress ripped somewhere in the lining and a gunshot echoed off the concrete. She screamed and covered her head.

“Cress, get up. Now.”

Pulling her arms away, she saw that the guard was unconscious and slumped against his desk. Bending down, Wolf kicked the gun away, then slid the guard toward the glass door and held his wrist over the ID scanner. A light flickered green.