Winter

by Marissa Meyer

  Before she could speak, the triumphant cheers were interrupted by a shrill screech, the sound stabbing at Wolf’s ears like needles burrowing into his brain. He crouched down, snarling. The audience cowered. The noise erupted from everywhere at once.

  Wolf lifted his head. This was his chance. Though the sound had turned his vision white, his oversensitive ears making him want to fall to the ground in convulsions, his hatred for the queen was stronger than the pain.

  He lunged forward, his vision full of her and her most fragile spots. Her throat. Her stomach.

  He heard a war cry. A guard dove in front of him, blocking his path. Wolf slashed at him with his newly sharpened nails and grabbed the guard’s knife from the scabbard at his side. He raised the knife over his shoulder.

  The guard’s yell had drawn attention, even over the screeching. The queen spun as Wolf’s hand whipped forward.

  Agony locked down on him all at once, like searing metal vises clamping around his fingers, his wrist, his arm. He released the knife half a moment too soon, knowing it was wrong the second his frozen fingers were empty. The blade grazed the queen’s neck when it should have lodged into her heart, and buried itself in the heavy draperies behind the altar.

  Wolf crumpled to the ground, blinded by the torrent of pain that cut through his flesh, ripping his mind apart.

  The noise stopped and, with it, the torment.

  The sudden absence was like a vacuum sucking out every other sound from the great hall. They were left in crystallized silence, hundreds of bodies paralyzed from shock.

  Wolf lay gasping on the ground, wishing he were dead.

  He knew the chance would not come again. He knew his punishment had only begun.

  Levana was also panting, her eyes ablaze. Her lips looked more red than usual, matched by the blood that was beading up on the side of her neck. “Control him!”

  “Yes, My Queen,” said Mistress Bement. “It won’t happen again, My Queen.”

  Then, cutting through the heady silence, came a voice. The palace paused to listen. Wolf focused on the ceiling, wondering if the pain had made him delirious.

  It was Cinder’s voice.

  “Hello, dearest Aunt Levana,” she said, her tone light and taunting. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to make sure I had your full attention. First, allow me to congratulate you. It seems you finally have everything you’ve always wanted. Now, it’s my turn.”

  There was a long pause. The speakers crackled.

  Cinder’s voice was no longer jovial when she said, “You have ten minutes to come to the front gates of your palace and surrender.”

  That was all.

  The people waited for more. More taunting. More threats. More explanation. But the message was over.

  Levana looked visibly shaken, while the emperor looked ready to burst out laughing.

  Then Kai’s gaze landed on Wolf and the grin fell. His brow twitched with concern.

  Wolf glowered and moved to stand on his weak legs, glad when the thaumaturge didn’t prevent it.

  “It’s a trick!” Levana screamed, her voice fragmented. “She can do nothing to me!”

  A patter of hurried footsteps broke through the queen’s outrage. They came through one of the side entrances, Head Thaumaturge Aimery Park flanked by two guards.

  A snarl tried to rip out of Wolf’s throat and he barely slammed it down again. This man had killed his mother.

  “What?” snapped the queen.

  “We’ve been informed that since the security breach occurred, our system has been neglecting to relay information from the tunnels—”

  “Quickly, Aimery.”

  His mouth turned down. “They are inside the city, My Queen. All eight of our barricades are down.”

  “Who is inside the city?”

  “The cyborg. Civilians from the outer sectors. Even some of our own soldiers have joined them.”

  Levana was hyperventilating, burning with rage. “The next person who uses the word cyborg in my presence will be losing a limb.” She took in a sharp breath. “Why haven’t they been stopped?”

  “Our resources are thin, Your Majesty. So many of our men were sent to the outer sectors to tame the uprisings. We cannot send reinforcements to meet these rebels without weakening our position here in the palace.”

  Gathering her skirt in her hands, Levana drew her shoulders so close to her neck that a spot of blood was left in the crease. “Fine,” she hissed. “This little rebellion will end here.”

  “Also, My Queen, we found this in the system control center after we discovered that our security had been tampered with.” Aimery held up a portscreen. “It would appear that it belongs to none other than our honored king consort.”

  Levana’s gaze spoke of murder as she turned to Emperor Kaito.

  “I was wondering where that had gotten off to,” he said, his mouth twitching with a challenge. “And here I spent all morning looking for it.”

  Levana’s nostrils flared, her expression vicious and calculating. She grabbed the portscreen from Aimery and threw it at the altar. The plastic casing shattered.

  “This celebration is over,” she said, her voice amplified by speakers around the great hall as she faced the audience. “It appears that some of my subordinates have chosen this night to incite what they see as a rebellion. But do not be alarmed—I am sure it’s little more than a silly demonstration.” She was slowly claiming control over her emotions again. “For your safety, I must ask that all of you, as my distinguished guests, remain seated while I see to the disturbance.”

  A rustle passed through the crowd.

  “Wait,” said a man’s voice, speaking from the rows of Earthens. “You can’t expect us to stay in this room while the palace is under attack. This is your war, not ours. I demand to be allowed to return to my ship at once.”

  The man had an Earthen-European accent, and a vision of the red-haired girl flashed through Wolf’s thoughts. He frowned, searching for the man in the crowd as a thrum of agreement rose up from the other Earthens.

  Levana’s lips drew back. “You will stay here,” she said, each word hard and cold as an ice cube, “until I give you permission to leave.”

  All at once, the Earthen dissent hushed. Levana directed her attention to the guards. “Bar all the doors. No one is to leave this room until I allow it.” She glanced at Wolf and snapped her fingers. “That one stays at my side. He will make the perfect shield should I need one.”

  “My Queen,” said one of the guards, “we must insist that you allow us to escort you to safety. The lava tubes beneath the city—”

  “Absolutely not,” Levana seethed. “These are my people. This is my kingdom. I will not abandon them now.”

  She started marching toward the main exit, but Kai followed beside her. “These Earthens aren’t yours to lock up. We aren’t hostages.”

  “Are you sure about that, Husband?” Levana snapped her fingers at two of the nearest guards. “Take him back to the others.”

  They hastened to obey, dragging Kai away from the queen and toward the group of brainwashed Earthens. “Release me!” Kai yelled. “I have as much right to give orders now as you do, to any Lunar guard or soldier.”

  Levana laughed, and she would have sounded entertained if it hadn’t been borderline hysterical. “I hope you don’t believe that.”

  Wolf was standing right next to Kai as he was pulled away from the queen, but the knowledge of the thaumaturge watching his movements kept him from stepping forward in the emperor’s defense. A shudder rumbled through him at the mere thought of earning her disapproval again.

  When the queen beckoned him to follow, he did.

  Eighty-One

  They sent scouts ahead to confirm there wasn’t an ambush waiting for them at the maglev’s platform. It was Strom’s idea, and while Cinder was a little annoyed to see someone else taking charge, it also felt nice to have another leader considering strategy and making sure Cinder wasn’t about
to make a stupid tactical error. It was the sort of thing Wolf would have done, if he’d been there.

  No, she didn’t want to think about Wolf. She’d had to tell Scarlet about how they were separated as soon as they were brought back to Artemisia and how she didn’t have any idea what had become of him. The memory opened up a wound that was still too fresh, one she didn’t have time to let heal.

  She tried to still her thrumming pulse, focusing on the allies she still had. Iko was by her side again. Scarlet was off in one of the other tunnels along with another group of soldiers and civilians. Thorne and Cress were in the palace and, if the removal of the barricades was an indication, they were still safe. Winter and Jacin were making their way through the nearby sectors, recruiting as many reinforcements as they could.

  She felt like she was playing one of Cress’s strategy games. All her pawns were in place and her final attack was about to begin.

  A hand slipped into hers. Iko, offering one last moment of comfort.

  A low howl echoed down the stifling tunnel.

  The signal.

  Cinder gave Iko’s hand a squeeze, then waved her arm. Time to move.

  They slipped forward onto the empty platform, where the netscreens were announcing that the coronation had ended. Levana was empress.

  They entered the stairwell, pushing toward the daylight. Though manufactured evening would soon be forced upon the domes, real daylight could be seen off the horizon, a faint sliver of their burning sun.

  Sunrise.

  It was beautiful.

  Their footsteps pounded against the stone streets of Artemisia. She had expected the streets to be as empty as they had been before, but as the sound of their march echoed off the mansion walls and through the manicured gardens, silhouettes were drawn to the windows.

  She tensed, readying for a surprise attack. But one of the wolves muttered, “Servants.”

  Looking closer, she saw that he was right. Dressed in simple clothing, eyes overflowing with fear, these were the lower classes who lived in the shadows of the white city and attended to the needs and whims of their masters.

  Cinder hoped some of them might be brave enough to fight. After all, now was the time to show it. But to her disappointment, most of the servants disappeared back into seclusion. She tried not to be resentful. No doubt they’d suffered from years of punishments and brainwashing.

  It occurred to her that this might be the first they’d heard of the insurgence at all.

  The palace came into view, shimmering and majestic.

  “Alphas!” yelled Strom, his voice carrying over the clomping footsteps. “Spread out and surround the palace. We’ll come at it from every open street.”

  They were a well-oiled machine, and watching the certainty with which the packs divided, each leading their regiment of civilians down various side streets, gave Cinder a chill. Though the people looked afraid, they also took confidence from the beastly men leading them. It was the type of confidence she wasn’t sure she could have inspired on her own.

  As they reached the gates of the palace, the clomp of their footsteps halted.

  No one was in sight. Even the guard tower was empty. The heavy iron gates were wide open, beckoning them forward. It was as if Levana had no idea she was under siege—or like she was too confident to heed Cinder’s threats.

  Or maybe it was a trap.

  The gilded doors of the castle were shut tight.

  Cinder emerged from the front line of her army, stepping before the open gates. There was an energy coursing through her, an impatience humming across her skin. Strom and Iko stayed at her side, ready to protect her if an attack came from one of the palace windows.

  Cinder scanned the sparkling windows but saw no sign of life. Anticipation wrapped around her body like a rope, growing tighter by the moment. She felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a cliff, waiting to be pushed off.

  Glancing down the front line, she watched as the groups that had split off emerged, filling up the intersections of every city street. The soldiers waited in perfect military formation. Training and willpower turned them into ferocious statues, but she noticed the twitch of a muscle, the flexing of a fist, eagerness sizzling beneath their skin.

  Behind them, thousands of civilians waited. Less intimidating, less prepared, but no less determined. She saw Scarlet’s red hair in the crowd.

  Not everyone who had joined them had come from LW-12. Some had come on faith, because of a couple videos and a promise that their true queen had returned. Some had been encouraged by the messengers Cinder had sent. Some, she hoped, were still coming.

  Inhaling deeply, Cinder stretched her thoughts thin, reaching for all the electrical pulses within her reach, and slipped her will into her allies. It was what she should have done in RM-9, before Aimery had seized control. She told herself it was a protection against Levana and her thaumaturges. So long as a civilian was under her control, then the queen could not have them.

  But she also knew that she would use them, if she had to.

  She would sacrifice them, even. If she had to.

  She had ordered the strongest of her allies to do the same thing—to seize control of their comrades now, before Levana and her court had the chance. They couldn’t control everyone, but she had to believe that neither could Levana. Cinder needed enough people to overwhelm her defenses. It had to be enough. They had to be enough.

  “If Levana does not surrender,” Cinder yelled into the eerie silence, “we will take the palace by force. There are multiple entrances on this main floor. Take them all. Break the windows. But do not forget that the queen and her entourage are inside.” She scanned the windows again, unnerved that there was still no sign of opposition. A feeling of dread stirred in the pit of her stomach.

  She was confident in their plan, but not that confident. They had made it to the queen’s doorstep without a hint of resistance beyond the barricaded tunnels. Something should have happened by now.

  “Thaumaturges will try to manipulate you,” she continued. “Kill them if you have the chance, as they will not hesitate to kill you, or use you to kill your own friends and neighbors. The queen’s guards are trained soldiers, but their minds are weak. Use that to your advantage. Above all else, remember why you are here today. By this night, I will be your queen, and you will no longer be slaves!”

  A cheer pulsed through the courtyard, coupled with a bone-chilling howl that coursed through Cinder’s body. She raised an arm, telling her allies to hold. She prepared herself to let it fall—the signal to charge. She watched Iko from the corner of her eye, waiting for her to say that the ten minutes were up.

  Her eye caught on movement.

  The palace doors were opening.

  The soldiers dropped into fighting stances. A low growl rumbled through the ground, shaking the soles of Cinder’s stolen boots. As the doors spread, they revealed a glowing silhouette. Not a long-coated thaumaturge or even the slender figure of the queen.

  A mutant. One of the queen’s soldiers.

  A hand grabbed Cinder’s elbow and hauled her back behind the front line.

  The soldier stepped onto the palace steps. His movements were graceful and precise. There was a familiarity to him that Cinder struggled to place, something different from the soldiers surrounding her now. The same malformed face. The same protruding teeth. Angry eyes flashing at the crowd. He was dressed not in the drab, utilitarian uniforms of the regiment, but in a uniform more fitting to the royal guard—all decorum.

  Her breath caught.

  It was Wolf. Wolf, repugnant and beastly, who stopped at the edge of the steps.

  Her thoughts darted to Scarlet, but she dared not turn to see Scarlet’s reaction.

  Another form emerged from the castle. Queen Levana herself. Thaumaturge Aimery followed and, spilling out behind them, thaumaturges in red and black, forming a line of haughty expressions and amused sneers, hands tucked into their belled sleeves. The embroidered runes glinted in th
e first natural daylight they had seen in weeks.

  For the first time, Cinder had no lie detector to tell her that the queen’s glamour was an illusion. She had no evidence that this was really Wolf, either, and not someone glamoured to look like him.

  But she also had no reason to doubt it.

  She felt again for the strings of power connecting her to the men and women she had taken control of. She had never controlled so many at once, and her grip felt delicate and weak.

  “‘By this night, I will be your queen,’” Levana quoted, smiling her wicked smile, “‘and you will no longer be slaves.’ What spirited words from the girl who causes death and chaos everywhere she goes.” Levana held out her hands, like a peace offering that meant nothing. “Here I am, girl who claims to be Princess Selene. I will not make you go in search of me. Go ahead. Try to take my crown.”

  Cinder’s eye twitched. Her pulse was racing beneath the surface, but there was calmness at the center of her mind. Maybe because, for the first time, her cyborg brain wasn’t breaking down the statistics of the world around her. She could guess that her adrenaline levels were spiking and her blood pressure was worrisome, but without the red stream of warning text, she didn’t care.

  Arm still raised, she spread her fingers, indicating that her people should hold their attack.

  Levana was betting on Cinder’s loyalty to Wolf. She must believe that Cinder would not attack so long as he could get caught in the crossfire. That she would not dare to put her friend in danger.

  But she couldn’t even be sure he was her friend anymore. Was he still Wolf, or was he something else now? A monster, a predator?

  She clenched her jaw, recognizing the hypocrisy of her thoughts. He was the same now as the soldiers who stood beside her, ready to fight and die for their freedoms. Whatever Wolf had become, she had to believe he was still her ally.

  The true question was whether or not Wolf, her friend, her ally, her teacher, was a worthwhile sacrifice to win this war.

  “Princess,” Strom growled, “she’s brought reinforcements.”

  Cinder dared not take her gaze from Levana, though curiosity twitched inside her.