“I agree, it’s sickening and perhaps even unforgivable,” said Torin, “but we should consider that they have been kept in ignorance as much as those in the outer sectors have.”
Kai snarled. He was not in the mood to feel sympathetic toward these people. “It would appear the honeymoon is over.”
“I must say, the queen does have a flair for the dramatic.” Torin cast a sly grin toward Kai. “So, it seems, does her niece.”
He smothered a twitch of pride. Cinder did have a knack for making an entrance. “What have we learned?”
“All of the exits have been bolted shut from the outside, and if the Lunars are to be believed, there are two guards posted at each exit.”
“Guards are easily manipulated, aren’t they?” Kai gestured toward the audience. “These Lunars—do you think they could control the guards through the doors? Cinder always said she could detect people through doors, but I don’t know if she could also manipulate them. But if we could get some of these Lunars to manipulate the guards into unlatching the doors, then clear a path down to the docks … maybe we could get everyone to safety.”
“The docks would offer shelter and the potential for escape should Linh-dàren fail,” said Torin, “but I can’t imagine these Lunars choosing to help us anytime soon.”
Kai blinked. It was the first time he’d heard anyone refer to Cinder as Linh-dàren—a title of high honor.
“You’re right,” he said. “They won’t help us, and they’re idiots for it. Have they even stopped to think why Levana locked them in here too? They think they’re invincible because they’re under her protection, but Levana doesn’t care about them. She’ll use them as quickly as anyone if she thinks it will further her cause.”
A distant rumble shook the palace, followed by yelling, throaty and furious, from what could have been thousands of voices. Then there was a rain of gunfire.
Kai shuddered. Even knowing Levana had gone to meet Cinder and whatever allies she’d persuaded to join her, it hadn’t seemed real. A revolution, a battle … it was incomprehensible. But now there were guns and people were dying and they were trapped.
“That was a bomb!” screamed a representative from Eastern Europe. “They’re bombing the palace! They’re going to kill us all!”
A group of nearby Lunars started to titter and cry out in mocking fear, “A bomb, oh stars, not a bomb!”
Kai narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know if the sound had been caused by an explosive or not, but his companion’s fear had given him an idea.
The portscreen Levana had thrown was still on the floor beside the altar. He marched toward it and gathered together the pieces. A couple plastic panels had snapped off and there was a permanent dent in the corner, but it hummed to life when he turned it on.
As the screen brightened, though, it was jumbled and pixilated, full of black spots and broken icons. He cursed, sweeping his fingers over the screen, jabbing at the controls. Nothing changed.
“Your Majesty?” Torin crouched beside him.
Kai held up the broken portscreen. “What would Cinder do? How would she fix it?”
A crease formed across Torin’s brow. “You want to comm for help?”
“Sort of.” He buried a hand in his hair, thinking, thinking. He pictured Cinder at her booth at the market. She would have been surrounded by tools and spare parts. She would have known what to do. She would have—
He hopped to his feet, his pulse racing, and whapped the corner of the portscreen hard on the top of the altar. Torin jerked back.
Kai looked again and let out an excited whoop. Half the screen had cleared.
He opened a comm.
“How did you do that?” said Torin.
“I don’t know,” he said, typing in a hasty message, “but you’d be surprised how often that works.”
A bout of laughter pulled his attention back to the audience. A group of Lunars had formed a circle around one of the servants who had been locked inside with them. The servant girl was dancing, but with jerky, uncomfortable movements. There were tears on her face, even though her eyes were shut and her expression was twisted in an attempt to imagine herself elsewhere. The look made Kai’s heart shrivel in his chest.
Somehow he knew this was not an unusual occurrence for the girl. He wondered if she had ever gone an entire day without someone else’s will being forced upon her limbs.
“That’s not a waltz at all!” a Lunar cried, smacking his companion on a shoulder. “Let me have a try at it. I can make her much more graceful than that.”
“She needs a partner, doesn’t she?” someone else said. “Let’s get one of those Earthens up here and have ourselves a bit of puppet theater while we wait.”
“Hey—how about that sweet young girl from the Commonwealth, the one that’s related to the cyborg? Remember her from the trial? Where is she?”
Kai heard a whimper. Cinder’s stepmother and stepsister were kneeling on the floor between two rows of chairs, clutching each other in an attempt to go unnoticed.
He ripped his gaze away and clipped the port back to his belt. “That’s enough,” he said, stalking toward the group. “Release the servant at once!”
“Ah, it looks as though the pretty emperor wants to dance too.”
The cheers that greeted Kai sounded cruel, but to his relief, no one took control of his body, even as he put an arm around the servant girl and hugged her against his side. She stopped dancing at once and slumped against his body, exhausted.