Cress found herself in a small round room. A desk circled the space, and the walls above it were covered in invisi-screens, angled to be seen from anywhere in the room. Only one wall was empty—noticeably empty.
A sense of dread settled in Cress’s stomach, but she couldn’t tell what it meant. Sybil had stepped aside and was watching Cress, waiting, but Cress didn’t know what she was waiting for.
There was a second door identical to the one they had just entered through—perhaps another hatch for a second ship, she thought. And a third door led to …
She stepped forward uncertainly.
It was a bathroom. A sink. A toilet. A tiny shower.
She turned back. Goose bumps covered her skin.
“There is a recirculating water system,” said Sybil, speaking as if they’d been in the middle of a conversation. She opened a tall cabinet. “And enough nonperishable food to last for six to eight weeks, though I will replenish your supplies every two to three weeks, or as needed, as I come to check on your progress. Her Majesty is hopeful that you’ll be making great forward strides in our Earthen surveillance now that you’ve been so meticulously outfitted with the exact requirements you specified. If you find you need anything more for your work, I will obtain it for you.”
Cress’s stomach was knotting itself now, her breaths coming in shorter gasps as she took in the invisi-screens again. The holograph nodes. The processors and receivers and data boards.
State-of-the-art. All of it.
It was exactly what she needed to spy on Earth.
“I’m … to live here?” she squeaked. “Alone?”
“For a time, yes. You said you needed to be closer to Earth, Crescent. I’ve given you what you requested in order to serve Her Majesty. That is what you want, isn’t it?”
She started nodding without realizing it. Tears were gathering in her eyes, but she brushed them away with the palm of her hand. “But where will I sleep?”
Sybil paced to the too-empty wall and hit a switch. A bed lowered out of the wall. It was larger than the bunk Cress had in the dormitories, but that did little to cheer her.
Alone. She was being left here, alone.
“You have your first orders,” said Sybil. “Is there anything else you require?”
Cress couldn’t remember what her first orders had been. She’d been so focused on going to Earth. So excited about trees and oceans and cities …
And now she didn’t have any of that. She didn’t even have the dormitory or the other shells anymore.
“How long?” she asked, her voice wavering. “How long do I have to stay here?”
When Sybil was silent, Cress forced herself to look up and meet her gaze. She hoped for sympathy, kindness, anything.
She shouldn’t have hoped. If anything, Sybil looked only irritated at Cress’s weakness.
“You will stay here until your work is done.” Then, after a moment, her features softened. “Of course, if your work is satisfactory, then perhaps when you are finished we can discuss your return to Artemisia … as a true citizen of Luna.”
Cress sniffed loudly and tilted her head back as much as she dared to hold in the tears.
A true citizen of Luna. Not just a shell. Not a prisoner. Not a secret.
She looked around the room again. She was still horrified, but also more determined than she had ever been.
“All right, Mistress. I will do my best to please Her Majesty.”
A glimmer of approval shone in Sybil’s eyes. She nodded and gestured at the guard, who turned without ceremony and marched back toward the podship.
“I know you will, Crescent.” She turned to follow him out the door. There were no parting words, no reassuring smile, no comforting embrace.
The door slammed and Mistress Sybil was gone and that was that.
Cress was alone.
She gasped and exhaled and moved toward one of the small windows, intending to watch them debark from the satellite and return to Luna.
A glow in the opposite window caught her eye. She turned and drifted to the other side of the tiny room instead.
Earth was so big it nearly filled up the entire frame.
Her whole body was trembling as she crawled up onto the desk and curled against the cabinet, staring at the blue planet. Blue and green and gold. She would sing for a while before she began her work. It would calm her. Singing always made her feel better.
Sweet Crescent Moon, up in the sky …
That was all she could get through before the tears came in earnest, drowning out everything else.
The Princess and the Guard
“Help me, Sir Clay! Save me!” Winter cowered behind the fort of pillows. Though their fortress was strong, she knew it would not keep out the villains forever.
Luckily, at the most opportune of moments, Sir Jacin Clay leaped to her defense, brandishing the legendary Earthlight Saber—in reality, a wooden training sword he’d gotten from his father for his seventh birthday.
“You’ll never have the princess!” Jacin yelled. “I’ll protect her with my life, you Earthen fiend!” He swung and jabbed at the air, while Winter abandoned the wall of pillows and scurried beneath the bed.
“Sir Clay! Behind you!”