“What?”
“Our best chance for the tampering to go unnoticed will be if I operate the system failure manually. I can turn the cameras off for short bursts, make them look like random power outages. A full blackout would draw too much attention, and blacking out just a portion of them would give the queen a clue as to which way Winter and Scarlet went. But if I disable and restart random sections of the surveillance system at the same time … I can make it look like a coincidence.” She tapped a finger against her lower lip. “I could set up a distraction too. Maybe an alarm in another part of the palace, to draw people away from them. And all the door locks in the major thoroughfares can be altered remotely too.”
She was growing confident in her decision. She would stay behind to give Winter and Scarlet the best chance for escape.
“You’re insane,” said Jacin. “Do you want to die in this palace?”
She stiffened. “Levana doesn’t know I’m here. As long as you keep me hidden…”
“As soon as Levana learns I let Winter go, she’ll kill me.”
She clenched her fists, annoyed that he was punching holes in her newfound courage. “Scarlet was captured during an attempt to rescue me. And Winter protected me, even though she didn’t have to, and I know it put her in a lot of danger. This is how I can repay them both.”
Jacin stared and she could see the moment he accepted her decision. It was their best chance and he had to know it. He turned away, his shoulders starting to fall. “I was Sybil’s pilot for over a year,” he said. “I knew about you for over a year, and I did nothing to help you.”
His confession stabbed her in the chest. She’d always thought Sybil had come alone, never realizing she had a pilot with her until it was too late. Maybe Jacin could have helped her, even rescued her.
They would never know.
He didn’t apologize. Instead, he set his jaw and met her eye again. “I will protect Winter with my life. Second only to her, I promise to protect you too.”
Twenty-Seven
Scarlet was working on this new thing she liked to call not reacting.
It was a skill that by no means came to her naturally. But when she was the one locked inside a cage and her enemy was the one on the outside, jabbering and giggling and generally being buffoons, not reacting seemed like a better habit than screaming obscenities and trying to smack them through the bars.
At least it carried a bit more dignity.
“Can’t you get her to do a trick?” asked the Lunar woman, holding an umbrella of owl feathers over one shoulder, though Scarlet couldn’t guess what she was protecting herself from. According to Winter, they had another six days to go before they saw real sunshine again, and there was no rain on Luna at all.
The woman’s companion leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, and peered at Scarlet through the bars. He was wearing orange sunglasses. Again, Scarlet didn’t know why.
Scarlet, cross-legged on the ground, her hands folded and her hood pulled up past her ears, peered back.
I am a vision of tranquility and indifference.
“Do something,” he ordered.
Scarlet blinked.
He glared at her. “Everyone says Earthens are supposed to be cute and amusing. Why don’t you do a dance for us?”
Her insides writhed, wanting more than anything to show this man how cute and amusing she could be. Outside, however, she was statuesque.
“Are you mute, or just stupid? Don’t they teach you how to address your betters down on that rock?”
I am the essence of peace and calm.
“What’s wrong with her hand?” said the woman.
The man glanced down. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
Her fingers didn’t so much as twitch. Not even the half-missing one.
The woman yawned. “I’m bored and Earthens smell bad. Let’s go look at the lions.”
The man straightened, arms akimbo. Scarlet could see him calculating something in his tiny head. She didn’t think he would try to use his gift on her—no one had manipulated her since she’d been brought to the menagerie and she was beginning to suspect her status as one of the princess’s pets was protecting her from that torture, at least.
He took a step forward. Behind him, Ryu growled.
It was a test of willpower for Scarlet to smother a grin. That wolf had really grown on her lately.
Though the woman glanced back at the wolf’s enclosure, the man kept his attention pinned on Scarlet. “You’re here to entertain us,” he said, “so do something. Sing a song. Tell a joke. Something.”
For my next trick, I will win a staring contest with the moron in orange sunglasses.
Snarling, the man grabbed the umbrella from his girlfriend and closed it. Holding on to the curved handle, he pushed the pointy end through the bars and jabbed Scarlet in the shoulder.
Ryu barked.
Scarlet’s hand whipped upward, her fist wrapping around the feathered fabric. She yanked it toward her and the man stumbled against the cage. She shoved the umbrella’s handle up toward his face. He screamed and reeled back, his glasses clattering to the ground. Blood spurted from his nose.
Scarlet smirked long enough to shove the umbrella out onto the path—there was no point keeping it, as the guards would just take it away. She stifled her smug expression and returned her face to neutral.
This not-reacting thing was working out better than she’d expected.
After cursing and screaming and getting blood all over his shirt, the man grabbed his girlfriend and the umbrella and stormed away, back toward the menagerie’s entrance. They were probably going to rat her out to the guards. She would probably miss a meal or two for her misbehavior.