In his hands was a tray of flatbread that smelled thickly of garlic.
“Heard you talking. I thought your surgery might be finished,” he said. “How’s your friend?”
Cinder glanced at Wolf. He, too, would be vulnerable.
Everyone in this room was Lunar, she realized with a jolt. If Dr. Erland was right, then they were all vulnerable now.
Cinder had to swallow to unclog her voice. “He’s still alive.” Leaving Wolf’s side, she held a hand toward the guard. “I’m Cinder, by the way.”
He squinted. “I know who you are.”
“Yeah, but I figured a formal introduction would be nice, now that we’re on the same side.”
“Is that what you’ve decided?”
Cinder frowned, but before she could respond, he’d shifted the flatbread to his other hand and grasped hers.
“Jacin Clay. Honored.”
Not knowing how to read his tone, which sounded almost mocking, Cinder pulled away and glanced at the doctor, who had his fingers pressed against Wolf’s wrist. Evidently, he had no intention of joining the introductions.
Cinder wiped her palms on her pants and eyed the tray. “So, what? You can shoot a gun, fly a spaceship, and bake?”
“This was brought by some kids.” He pushed the tray toward Cinder. “They said it was for you, but I told them you couldn’t be bothered.”
She took it awkwardly. “For me?”
“‘The cyborg,’ to be specific. Seemed unlikely there would be two of you around.”
“Huh. I wonder why.”
“I suspect it will not be the first gift you receive from the citizens of Farafrah,” said Dr. Erland.
“What for? These people don’t know me.”
“Of course they do—or at least, they know of you. We are not so cut off from the world here as you might think. Even I had a reputation when I first arrived.”
She set the tray down on the desk. “And they haven’t turned you in? What about the reward money? And the fact that you’re Lunar? Don’t they care?”
Instead of answering, Dr. Erland slid his gaze toward Jacin, who was now leaning statue-like beside the door. It was easy to forget his presence in a room when he stood so still and said so little. No doubt his training as a guard had taught him that. No doubt he was used to going unnoticed.
But while Cinder had made the choice to trust him, it was obvious from the doctor’s expression that she was so far alone in that decision.
“Right,” said Jacin, pushing himself off the wall. “I’ll go check on your ship. Make sure no one’s backing out screws and calling them souvenirs.” He left the hotel room without looking back, his limp almost passing for a swagger.
“I know, he seems a little … abrasive,” Cinder said once he was gone. “But he knows who I am, and he saved my life, and Wolf’s. We should treat him as an ally.”
“You may choose to reveal all your secrets, Miss Linh, but it does not mean I must reveal mine, or those of the people in this town.”
“What do you mean?”
“The people here do not care that we are Lunar, because we are not the only ones. I estimate fifteen percent of the population of Farafrah, and other neighboring oases, is made up of Lunars, or those of Lunar descent. This is where many of our people choose to come after they escape, and they have been immigrating here since the time of Queen Channary. Perhaps even earlier.”
“Fifteen percent?” she asked. “And the Earthens know?”
“It is not widely discussed, but it seems to be common knowledge. They have come to live in harmony together. Once the plague struck, many Lunars took to nursing the sick and burying the dead, as they themselves did not catch the sickness. Of course, no one knew they were the original carriers. By the time that theory was posed, the two races had become too intermingled. They work together now, helping each other survive.”
“But it’s illegal to harbor Lunar fugitives. Levana would be furious.”
“Yes, but who would tell her? No one cares about a poor, diseased town in the Sahara.”
Thoughts swarming, she picked up a piece of the bread, glistening with golden oil and speckled with herbs. The soft inside was still steaming when she pulled it apart.
It was a gift … from Lunars. From her own people.
Her eyes widened and she gaped up at the doctor again. “Do they know? About … me?”
He sniffed. “They know that you stood up against the queen. They know that you continue to defy her.” For the first time since she’d arrived, Cinder thought she detected a smile beneath the doctor’s annoyed expression. “And I may have led them to believe that, one of these days, you intend to assassinate her.”
“Wha—assassinate her?”
“It worked,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “These people will follow you anywhere.”
Twenty-Two
“Lunar Thaumaturge Aimery Park, Your Majesty.”
Kai and Torin stood as the thaumaturge glided past Nainsi into Kai’s office. Although Aimery bowed respectfully to Kai as he came to stand on the opposite side of his desk, so low that the long sleeves of his maroon jacket nearly brushed the carpet, there was something supremely disrespectful in his air that always set Kai on edge. He had never quite been able to pinpoint what it was about this man—maybe it was the way he always wore a faint smile at the corners of his lips, or perhaps how that smile only reached his eyes when he was using his gift to manipulate someone.
“Thank you for joining us,” said Kai, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
“My pleasure,” said Aimery, settling gracefully into the offered chair. “Anything for Luna’s future king.”
The designation made Kai squirm. It was easy to forget that he would be taking on a new title as much as Levana was, but the difference was that Luna had very strict laws governing who could be put into positions of power, and Earthens certainly did not make the cut. He would be crowned King Consort, meaning he would be a pretty figurehead with virtually no power whatsoever.
Unfortunately, the Commonwealth did not have the same fail-safes put in place. Kai’s great-great-great-grandfather, the country’s first emperor, must have trusted his descendants to make sound decisions on their spouses.
“I wanted to discuss with you a discovery recently made by the Earthen Union,” Kai said, nodding at Torin.
His adviser stepped closer to the desk and set a portscreen in its center. With a click, the holograph of Earth with 327 Lunar spaceships surrounding it flickered to life above the desk.
Kai watched the thaumaturge closely, but the man did not show an iota of a reaction to the holograph, even with hundreds of yellow dots reflected like fireflies in his dark eyes.
“This is real-time imagery of Earth and its surrounding space,” said Kai. “The markers have all been confirmed to be Lunar spacecrafts.”
Aimery’s cheek seemed to twitch, as though he was on the verge of laughing, yet his voice remained as smooth as caramel when he spoke. “It is a very striking picture indeed, Your Majesty. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
Clenching his teeth, Kai lowered himself into his own chair. He was tempted to keep standing, as a show of power, but he’d been around Lunars enough to know that such mind games rarely had any effect, and at least when he was sitting he could pretend to be comfortable. Pretend that he hadn’t been dreading this conversation all day.
“You’re very welcome,” Kai deadpanned. “Now perhaps you can explain to me what they’re all doing up there.”
“Recreation.” Aimery leaned back, leisurely crossing his legs. “We have many wealthy families on Luna who enjoy the occasional holiday cruise through our galaxy. I’m told it can be very relaxing.”
Kai narrowed his eyes. “And these holiday cruises routinely bring them to within ten thousand kilometers of Earth? Where they remain anchored for days?”
“I am sure the view afforded them by such a location must be quite lovely.” One side of Aimery’s mouth quirked. “Breathtaking sunrises, I’m told.”
“Interesting. Because all three hundred twenty-seven of these ships bear the insignia of the Lunar Crown. It seems to me that these are actually crown-sanctioned ships either conducting some sort of surveillance on the Earthen Union, or preparing an attack should war be declared.”