Flushing, Cress inspected her bare legs.
Cinder rolled her eyes. “Here, Cress, try these on.”
“Hm? Oh, right.” She removed the torture devices and tossed them to Iko, who was all too thrilled to slip them onto her feet.
Within seconds, Iko was waltzing around the room’s perimeter as if she’d been designed with those exact shoes in mind. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I’m keeping these.”
When Cress had fitted the replacement shoes onto her feet, Thorne flicked one of her antenna puff balls and draped an arm over her shoulders. “How do we look?”
Cinder scratched the back of her neck. Iko tilted her head from one side to the other, as if their appearance might improve from a different angle.
“I guess you look Lunar?” Cinder ventured.
“Nice.” Thorne held up a hand for a high five. Cress awkwardly complied.
Cinder adjusted her ponytail. “Of course, any Lunar who’s paying attention will be able to tell you’re an Earthen and she’s a shell. So be careful.”
Thorne scoffed. “Careful is my middle name. Right after Suave and Daring.”
“Do you even know what you’re saying half the time?” asked Cinder.
Thorne picked up the chip that they’d transferred Cinder’s video onto and handed it to Cress. “Put this somewhere safe.”
She stared, not sure what constituted safe. She had no pockets, no bag, and very little clothing in which to hide anything. Finally she tucked it inside her bodice.
Grabbing Cress’s portscreen off the vanity, Thorne slid it into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, where she could also see the outline of his handgun. A small knife they’d taken from the kitchen vanished in his hands, so quick she wasn’t sure where he’d put it.
“I guess that’s it,” said Cinder, scanning over Thorne’s and Cress’s outfits again. “Are we ready?”
“If anyone answers no to that question,” said Jacin, appearing in the hallway with a scowl and tapping fingers, “I’m leaving without you.”
Cress cast her gaze over her friends, realizing they were about to be separated. Again. Trepidation curled in the pit of her stomach.
She and Thorne would go off to the palace, while Cinder, Iko, and Jacin tried to save Winter and Scarlet and organize the people who would soon be infiltrating Artemisia.
She didn’t want to leave them. She didn’t want to say good-bye.
But Thorne’s arm was over her shoulders, comfortable and solid. When he tugged on his lapel with his free hand and told the others, “We’re ready,” Cress didn’t argue.
* * *
“There’s the back entrance,” said Jacin, pointing at a near-invisible door in the back of the medical and research clinic, half-hidden behind overgrown shrubberies. Iko popped up beside him in an attempt to see, but he flattened a hand on her head and forced her to duck down as two men in lab coats strolled by, both of them with their attention stuck to their portscreens.
Jacin scanned the yard one more time before darting out from their cover and ducking into the building’s shadow. Through the dome’s wall he could see the desolate landscape of Luna stretching into the distance.
He waved his arm, and Cinder and Iko scurried after him, crowding together in the shadows.
The door opened easily—no reason to lock doors in a building that was open to the public—but Jacin refused to feel relieved. There would be no relief for him until he knew Winter was safe.
They scurried into a dim corridor, the walls in need of a coat of paint. Jacin listened, but all he heard was a squeaky wheel and a clattering cart in some distant hallway.
“There’s a maintenance room down there,” he said, pointing, “and a janitorial closet on each floor. That door takes you to the main part of the building.”
“How do you know all this?” Cinder whispered.
“I interned here for a few months before the queen decided I would make a decent guard.”
He felt Cinder peering up at him, but he didn’t meet the look.
“That’s right,” she murmured. “You wanted to be a doctor.”
“Whatever.” He paced to the screen beside the maintenance room and pulled up a mapped diagram of the clinic. A few red exclamation points glowed in different areas, with inserted notes. PATIENT RM 8: NON-TOXIC SPILL ON FLOOR. LAB 13: FAULTY LIGHT SWITCH.
“Here,” said Cinder, pointing at the fourth floor of the diagram. DISEASE RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT.
There was a back staircase on the opposite side of the building—it would get them to the right floor, at least. Jacin hoped the research team had taken the day off to enjoy the coronation festivities. He didn’t want any more complications, and he’d like to avoid killing anyone else if he could.
That didn’t stop him from loosening his gun, though.
The climb to the fourth floor came with no surprises. Jacin cracked open the door and scanned the well-lit corridor. He could hear the gurgle of water tanks and the hum of computers and the constant growl of machinery, but no people.
Indicating for the others to stay close, he slipped out of the stairwell. Their shoes squeaked and thumped on the hard floors. Beside each door a screen lit up as they passed, indicating the purpose for each room.
AGRICULTURE: GEN MOD DEVELOPMENT AND TESTING
BIOELECTRICAL MANIPULATION: STUDY #17 (CONTROL AND GROUPS 1–3)
GENETIC ENGINEERING: CANIS LUPUS SUBJECTS #16–20
GENETIC ENGINEERING: CANIS LUPUS SUBJECTS #21–23
GENETIC ENGINEERING: SURGICAL ALTERATION