She took in a shaky breath and said the words that seemed impossibly simple for all that they meant.
“The helmet isn’t destroyed.”
The words echoed in the chamber and though it was an almost imperceptible change, she could have sworn that some of the skulls turned to look at her with increased interest.
“The Renegades have it. They keep it locked up because … because it’s still intact, and they’re worried that someone will try to use it again. But I think…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I think I can get it back.”
The wall of bones began to tremble. Softly at first, enough to dislodge bits of dust. To send a couple of those tiny digits rolling across the floor toward Nova’s knees.
As one, the bones pulled back, like the curtains framing the stage of a grand production. They moved quietly, languidly.
The chamber beyond had little in it, but what it did have was luxurious. A four-poster bed draped in velvet. A writing desk stocked with linen paper and the finest pens. And books. So many books, the Librarian would have wept with joy to have seen them.
Though Ace had loved the cathedral, he had always felt happiest when he was down here. It was not so macabre as people liked to believe, he said. He liked the peace of it. The solitude and the quiet. He had told her once, his eyes twinkling, that being here kept him grounded.
And so, it was with some irony that Nova looked into the small chamber and saw Uncle Ace levitating three feet in the air, legs crossed and face serene. He reminded her of a monk in the middle of a meditation, except that his eyes were open, gazing at her with the same softness and warmth that had always served to remind her of her father.
“I knew you would do well,” he said, his lips curling into a smile, “my little nightmare.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
WRITING THIS BOOK turned out to be a much more treacherous journey than I expected when I first set out to write about superheroes and supervillains, and I am so grateful to have had the support of so many remarkable people to guide me and cheer me on.
To my agent, Jill Grinberg, who really saved me (and Nova and Adrian!) by shedding light on the heart of their story when I had lost sight of it. And also for all the excellent visualizations. They totally worked! In truth, you don’t know what your steadiness and reassurance has meant to me over the years. And of course to Cheryl, Katelyn, and Denise, for being such incredible rock stars, all day, every day.
To everyone—and I do mean everyone!—at Macmillan Children’s. First and foremost, my outstanding editor, Liz Szabla, for your guidance, serenity, cheerleading (we’ve got this!), and mostly for all the chocolate. Seriously, thank you for all the chocolate. Thank you to Jean Feiwel, who always puts her authors first. To “Clever Master” Mary, along with Jo, Caitlin, and the entire publicity and marketing team, who consistently blow me away with their genius ideas. To Rich, for yet another jaw-dropping cover (I love it so much!). To Mariel, for everything you do, but mostly for my banner. Great skies, that banner! And to Jon, Allison, Angus, and countless, countless others who work so hard to make wonderful, beautiful books and put them into the hands of readers, which might just be the world’s most effective way of fighting against evil.
To my amazing, brilliant, dedicated, and oh-so-patient beta readers, Tamara, Meghan, and Jojo, who had to suffer through an absurdly rough early draft (Tamara actually suffered through two of them … sorry!), yet their support and encouragement never wavered. Thank you for believing in me and always helping me see the story and characters in ways I never would have considered.
To my fellow writers who kept me sane through a number of long café writing dates and writing retreats (we have really got to do more of those): Anna Banks, Kendare Blake, Jennifer Chushcoff, Kimberly Derting, Corry Lee, Lish McBride, Ayesha Patel, Rori Shay, and Breeana Shields. And also to Leilani and Emily, who always seem to have a word of kindness just when I need it most.
To my parents, who always remind me to take a moment for self-care, and to my big brother, Jeff, who introduced me to superheroes via X-Men comics when we were kids, and who was able to describe for me exactly what it’s like to be stabbed through the hand with a semi-blunt object. Who knew that accident would someday have a silver lining? Yay, research!
And in the name of the Moon, I have to thank all the (Sailor) Moonies and the Lunartics! I couldn’t possibly express how much your enthusiasm has meant to me over the years.
Finally, to my own little Renegades, Sloane and Delaney, who have brought more joy into my life than I ever thought possible. And also thanks to Sarah and all the grandparents who were willing to take on last-minute childcare duties as my deadlines crept ever closer.
And—always, always—to my amazing husband, Jesse, who is as gallant as they come. (Truly, if you ever meet him, ask him about the time he chased down that purse snatcher in London. He would love to tell you the story.) Beyond literal heroics, though, he has rescued me countless times in the writing of this book. I can’t even begin to list all the ways I’m grateful for you and everything you do—as a man, a husband, and a father.
Praise for The Lunar Chronicles
#1 New York Times–Bestselling Series USA Today Bestseller Publishers Weekly Bestseller “A mash-up of fairy tales and science fiction … a cross between Cinderella, Terminator, and Star Wars.”
—Entertainment Weekly “Prince Charming among the cyborgs.”
—The Wall Street Journal “Terrific.”
—Los Angeles Times “Marissa Meyer rocks the fractured fairy tale genre.”
—The Seattle Times “Epic awesome.”
—Bustle
“A binge-reading treat.”
—MTV
“Takes the classic to a whole new level.”
—NPR
“In HEARTLESS, the nonsense that is Wonderland gets a reverential makeover, full of heart and its own idiosyncratic character.”
—GREGORY MAGUIRE, AUTHOR OF Wicked AND After Alice
Praise for
HEARTLESS