Cinder was more angry than afraid, feeding on Wolf’s devastation and the horror of all the blank faces around her, all these people used like marionettes.
She believed what she’d said before. Levana could kill her, but Cinder had to believe her death wouldn’t be the end. This revolution no longer belonged to her.
Forty-One
“They’re coming,” said Scarlet, snarling as she backed away from the window. Her first shot had been low, hitting Aimery’s thigh when she’d been aiming for his head. Her second shot had hit the fountain, useless, before the crowd had been too thick to keep firing. She had heard at least three shots coming from Thorne but didn’t know if he’d had any more success.
Cinder and Wolf were like hogs in a slaughterhouse down there, and she and Thorne would be close behind if they didn’t get out, now.
Thorne grabbed the helmet he’d stolen from the guard and pulled it over his head, transforming from her friend to her enemy. She hoped the transformation was as convincing to the Lunars. “Give me your gun,” he said. She hesitated only briefly before handing it over. Thorne pocketed it and grabbed her elbow, dragging her toward the staircase.
They were on the first landing when footsteps stampeded through the bottom level.
“Found one!” Thorne yelled, making her jump. He held his gun to Scarlet’s head as he dragged her to the bottom of the stairs. Four guards surrounded them. “There were two gunmen. The other might have run, but check the top floors to be sure. I’ve got this one.”
Scarlet pretended to thrash against his hold as Thorne dragged her past the guards, oozing authority. The guards charged up the stairs. The second they were gone, Thorne swiveled around and released her. They ran for the back exit, dashing into the alley behind the factory.
Already the brawl was over, judging from the dreadful silence that filled the dome.
Thorne turned away from the factory, but Scarlet grabbed his arm. “Wait.”
He looked back, his gaze harsh, but maybe that was the effect of the face mask.
“We have to try to help them,” she said.
His brow wrinkled. “You saw how easily they took down Cinder and Wolf, and you think we can do something to help them?”
She didn’t. She honestly didn’t.
But if she didn’t even try …
“Give me my gun,” she said, holding out her hand.
Thorne stared at her.
“Give me my gun.”
With a huff, he pulled the gun from his waistband and shoved it into her palm. Scarlet spun away, not sure if he would follow. He did.
When they turned the first corner she could see the square. The citizens who had risen up to attack Cinder and Wolf were all kneeling again, placid, as if the fight hadn’t even happened.
Scarlet wondered how long it would take those guards to search the factory. She wondered if she was crazy not to turn and run.
The gun was warm in her hand, the handle leaving imprints in her skin. There had been a time when holding a weapon had offered a sense of protection, but that comfort was compromised knowing how easily Lunars could turn the weapon against her.
Still, if she could get close enough she could get off a shot or two, and this time she wouldn’t miss.
How close could she get before they detected her? Would the size of the crowd help to hide her, or would she be caught up in the same brainwashing trick as soon as she got too close? She didn’t know how it worked or how vulnerable she would be. She was wishing now that she had asked Cinder more about it when she’d had the chance.
They moved stealthily, Thorne silent behind her.
She stopped when she could pick out Wolf and Cinder among their enemies. They both had their hands bound behind them now. Wolf’s shoulders were hunched. He was looking at the ground.
No, she realized with a shudder. He was looking at Maha.
Fury ignited in her gut. They had taken everything from Wolf. His freedom, his childhood, his entire family, and he had done nothing, nothing, to deserve it.
She wanted to avenge him. To take him away from this horrible dust-mottled place. To offer him a life of blue skies and tomatoes and peace.
Scarlet tightened her grip on the gun, feeling the familiar press of the trigger.
But she was too far away. She had a better chance of hitting an ally than an enemy from here.
Heart thumping, Scarlet scrutinized the narrow alley, estimating how many steps she could take and still stay hidden. There was a doorway set into the factory wall she could duck into, but being seen wasn’t her biggest concern, not when Lunars could sense her.
Letting out a slow breath, she raised the gun and lined up the sights, targeting Aimery’s heart. She held her aim for three breaths before she huffed and lowered the weapon again. She’d been right before. Too far away.
Again, she considered moving closer. Again, she hesitated.
Then she noticed a shift in Wolf’s posture. His head turned in her direction.
It was a subtle change, almost unremarkable. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t make any move to suggest he had picked out her scent among all these people, but Scarlet knew he had. There was a tension to his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments before.
Her heart somersaulted. She imagined being caught. Wolf, watching, as they put a gun to her head. Wolf, powerless, as she was handed another hatchet. Wolf, whose mother had just been killed in front of him while he could do nothing to stop it.
Scarlet’s body shook as the memory of her grandmother’s death hit her like a hammer to her skull. The despair that had engulfed her. All the fury and hatred and the certainty thumping into her again and again that she should have been able to stop it.