Cinder: Book One in the Lunar Chronicles

by Marissa Meyer

  “Aha!” Cinder beamed. “Magbelt.”

  Peony cupped her cheek in her palm, raising her voice. “And then he’ll recognize me at the ball, and I’ll dance with him and—Pearl will be livid!” She laughed, as if angering her older sister were life’s greatest accomplishment.

  “If the android’s even done before the ball.” Cinder selected a wrench from the tool belt slung around her hips. She didn’t want to inform Peony that Prince Kai probably wouldn’t be the one signing for deliveries at the palace.

  Peony whisked her hand through the air. “Well, or whenever.”

  “I want to go to the ball,” said Iko, gazing up at the horizon. “It’s prejudice not to let androids attend.”

  “Petition the government then. I’m sure Peony will be happy to take your cause direct to the prince himself.” Cinder clamped onto Iko’s spherical head and forced her to aim the light back into the hood. “Now hold still. I’ve just about got this end detached.”

  Cinder stuck the wrench to Iko, then pried the magbelt from its bracket, letting it clatter to the ground below. “One side down, one to go.” She led the way around the hover, clearing a path through the garbage so Iko’s treads wouldn’t get stuck.

  Peony followed and climbed on top of the hover’s trunk, folding her legs beneath her. “You know, some people are saying he’s going to be looking for a bride at the ball.”

  “A bride!” said Iko. “How romantic.”

  Cinder lowered herself onto her side behind the hover’s back bumper and took a small flashlight from her tool belt. “Hand me that wrench again?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? A bride, Cinder. As in, a princess.”

  “As in, not going to happen. He’s only, what? Nineteen?” Tucking the flashlight between her teeth, Cinder took the wrench from Iko. The bolts in the back had less rust on them, better protected from the overhanging trunk, and took only a few quick turns to loosen.

  “Eighteen and a half,” said Peony. “And it’s true. All the gossip links are saying so.”

  Cinder grunted.

  “I would marry Prince Kai in a heartbeat.”

  “Me too,” said Iko.

  Cinder spit out the flashlight and shuffled to the fourth corner. “You and every other girl in the Commonwealth.”

  “Like you wouldn’t,” said Peony.

  Cinder didn’t answer as she loosened the final bolt gripping the magbelt. It released and fell to the ground with a clang. “There we go.” She slid out from beneath the car and tucked the wrench and flashlight into her calf compartment before standing. “See any other hovers worth scavenging while we’re here?” Pulling the magbelt out from beneath the hover, she folded it at its hinges, forming a less cumbersome metal rod.

  “I did see something over there.” Iko swished the light around the stacks. “Not sure what model.”

  “Great. Lead the way.” Cinder nudged the android with the belt. Iko took off, muttering about being stuck in junkyards while Adri was all clean and cozy at home.

  “Besides,” said Peony, hopping off the trunk, “the rumor that he’s looking for a bride at the ball is a lot better than what the other rumors are saying.”

  “Let me guess. Prince Kai is actually a martian? Or no, no—he had an illegitimate child with an escort, didn’t he?”

  “Escort-droids can have children?”

  “No.”

  Peony huffed, blowing a curl off her brow. “Well, this is even worse. They say there’s been talk of him marrying…” She dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. “Queen Levana.”

  “Queen—” Cinder froze and clamped a gloved hand over her mouth, glancing around as if someone could be lurking in the piles of garbage, listening. She pulled her hand away but kept her voice down. “Honestly, Peony. Those tabloids are going to rot your brain.”

  “I don’t want to believe it either, but they’re all saying it. That’s why the queen’s witchy ambassador has been staying at the palace, so she can secure an alliance. It’s all very political.”

  “I don’t think so. Prince Kai would never marry her.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  But she did know. Cinder may not know much about inter-galactic politics, but she knew Prince Kai would be a fool to marry Queen Levana.

  The lingering moon caught Cinder’s attention, and a shock of goose bumps covered her arms. The moon had always given her a sense of paranoia, like the people who lived up there could be watching her, and if she stared for too long, she might draw their attention. Superstitious nonsense, but then everything about Lunars was eerie and superstitious.

  Lunars were a society that had evolved from an Earthen moon colony centuries ago, but they weren’t human anymore. People said Lunars could alter a person’s brain—make you see things you shouldn’t see, feel things you shouldn’t feel, do things you didn’t want to do. Their unnatural power had made them a greedy and violent race, and Queen Levana was the worst of all of them.

  They said she knew when people were talking about her even thousands of miles away. Even down on Earth.

  They said she’d murdered her older sister, Queen Channary, so she could take the throne from her. They said she’d had her own husband killed too so she would be free to make a more advantageous match. They said she had forced her stepdaughter to mutilate her own face because, at the sweet age of thirteen, she had become more beautiful than the jealous queen could stand.

  They said she’d killed her niece, her only threat to the throne. Princess Selene had only been three years old when a fire caught in her nursery, killing her and her nanny.

  Some conspiracy theorists thought the princess had survived and was still alive somewhere, waiting for the right time to reclaim her crown and end Levana’s rule of tyranny, but Cinder knew it was only desperation that fueled these rumors. After all, they’d found traces of the child’s flesh in the ashes.

  “Here.” Iko raised her hand and knocked on a slab of metal jutting from a huge mound of junk, startling Cinder.

  She shoved the thoughts aside. Prince Kai would never marry that witch. He could never marry a Lunar.

  Cinder pushed a few rusted aerosol cans and an old mattress aside before she was able to clearly make out the hover’s nose. “Good eye.”

  Together they shuffled enough junk out of the way so that the full front of the vehicle could be seen. “I’ve never seen one like this,” Cinder said, running a hand over the pitted chrome insignia.

  “It’s hideous,” said Peony with a sneer. “What an awful color.”

  “It must be really old.” Cinder found the latch and pulled open the hood. She drew back, blinking at the mess of metal and plastic that greeted her. “Really old.” She squinted into the front corner of the engine, but the undercarriage hid the magbelt clamps from view. “Huh. Point the light over there, would you?”

  Cinder lowered herself to the dirt. She tightened her ponytail before squirming under the hover, shoving aside the jumble of old parts that had been left to rust in the weeds beneath it.

  “Stars,” she muttered when she was able to look up into its belly. Iko’s light filtered down from above, through cables and wires, ducts and manifolds, nuts and bolts. “This thing is ancient.”

  “It is in a junkyard,” said Peony.

  “I’m serious. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Cinder ran a hand along a rubber cable.

  The light flashed back and forth as Iko’s sensor scanned the engine from above. “Any useful parts?”

  “Good question.” Cinder’s vision tinted blue as she connected to her netlink. “Could you read me the VIN by the windshield?” She searched the number as Peony read it to her and had the hover’s blueprint downloaded in minutes, the display creating an overlaid image on top of the engine above her. “Seems to be fairly intact,” she murmured, running her fingertips along a cluster of wires over her head. She followed them with her eyes, tilting her head to trace the path from hoses to pulleys to axles, trying to decipher how it a
ll fit together. How it all worked.

  “This is so cool.”

  “I’m bored,” said Peony.

  Sighing, Cinder searched for the magbelt on the blueprint, but a green error message flashed in her vision. She tried just magnet, and then just belt, finally receiving a hit. The blueprint lit up a rubber band wrapped around a series of gears, encapsulated by a metal cover—something called a timing belt. Frowning, Cinder reached up and felt for the bolts and lock washers that attached the cover to the engine block.

  She thought timing belts hadn’t been used since internal combustion had become obsolete.

  Gasping, she craned her neck to the side. In the deep shadows beneath the vehicle, she could make out something round beside her, connected to the bars overhead. A wheel.

  “It’s not a hover. It’s a car. A gasoline car.”

  “Seriously?” said Peony. “I thought real cars were supposed to be…I don’t know. Classy.”

  Indignation flared in Cinder’s chest. “It has character,” she said, feeling for the tire’s treads.

  “So,” said Iko a second later, “does this mean we can’t use any of its parts?”

  Ignoring her, Cinder hungrily scanned the blueprint before her. Oil pan, fuel injectors, exhaust pipes. “It’s from the second era.”

  “Fascinating. Not,” said Peony. She suddenly screeched, launching herself back from the car.

  Cinder started so fast she whapped her head on the front suspension. “Peony, what?”

  “A rat just came out of the window! A big hairy fat one. Oh, gross.”

  Groaning, Cinder settled her head back into the dirt, massaging her forehead. That made two head injuries in one day. At that rate, she was going to have to buy a new control panel too. “It must have been nesting in the upholstery. We probably scared it.”

  “We scared it?” Peony’s voice carried a shudder with it. “Can we go now, please?”

  Cinder sighed. “Fine.” Dismissing the blueprint, she squirmed out from beneath the car, accepting Iko’s offered grippers to stand. “I thought all the surviving gasoline cars were in museums,” she said, brushing the cobwebs from her hair.

  “I’m not sure I would label it a ‘survivor,’” said Iko, her sensor darkening with disgust. “It looks more like a rotting pumpkin.”

  Cinder shut the hood with a bang, sending an impressive dust cloud over the android. “What was that about having a fantastic imagination? With some attention and a good cleaning, it could be restored to its former glory.”

  She caressed the hood. The car’s dome-shaped body was a yellow-orange shade that looked sickly under Iko’s light—a color that no one in modern times would choose—but with the antique style of the vehicle it bordered on charming. Rust was creeping up from the hollow beneath the shattered headlights, arching along the dented fender. One of the back windows was missing, but the seats were intact, albeit mildew covered and torn and probably home to more than just rodents. The steering wheel and dash seemed to have suffered only minor damage over the years.

  “Maybe it could be our escape car.”

  Peony peered into the passenger’s side window. “Escape from what?”

  “Adri. New Beijing. We could get out of the Commonwealth altogether. We could go to Europe!” Cinder rounded the driver’s side and scrubbed the dirt from the window with her glove. On the floor inside, three pedals winked up at her. Though hovers were all controlled by computer, she had read enough about old technology to know what a clutch was and even had a basic idea of how to operate one.

  “This hunk of metal wouldn’t get us to the city limits,” said Peony.

  Stepping back, Cinder dusted off her hands. They were probably right. Maybe this wasn’t a fantasy vehicle, maybe it wasn’t their key to salvation, but somehow, someday, she would leave New Beijing. She would find a place where no one knew who she was—or what she was.

  “Plus, we couldn’t afford the gasoline,” continued Iko. “We could trade in your new foot and still not be able to afford enough fuel to get out of here. Plus, the pollution fines. Plus, I’m not getting in this thing. There’s probably decades’ worth of rat droppings under those seats.”

  Peony cringed. “Ew.”

  Cinder laughed. “All right, I get it. I won’t make you guys push the car home.”

  “Whew, you had me worried,” said Peony. She smiled because she hadn’t really been worried and flipped her hair off her shoulder.

  Cinder’s eye caught on something—a dark spot below Peony’s collarbone, visible just above the collar of her shirt. “Hold still,” she said, reaching forward.

  Peony did the opposite, panicking and swiping at phantoms on her chest. “What? What is it? A bug? A spider?”

  “I said, hold still!” Cinder grabbed Peony by the wrist, swiped at the spot—and froze.

  Dropping Peony’s arm, she stumbled back.

  “What? What is it?” Peony tugged on her shirt, trying to see, but then spotted another spot on the back of her hand.

  She looked up at Cinder, blood draining from her face. “A…a rash?” she said. “From the car?”

  Cinder gulped and neared her with hesitant footsteps, holding her breath. She reached again for Peony’s collarbone and pulled the fabric of her shirt down, revealing the entire spot in the moonlight. A splotch of red, rimmed with bruise purple.

  Her fingers trembled. She pulled away, meeting Peony’s gaze.

  Peony screamed.

  Chapter Five

  PEONY’S SHRIEKS FILLED THE JUNKYARD, SEEPING INTO THE cracks of broken machinery and outdated computers. Cinder’s auditory interface couldn’t protect her from the shrill memory, even as Peony’s voice cracked and she dissolved into hysteria.

  Cinder stood trembling, unable to move. Wanting to comfort Peony. Wanting to run away.

  How was this possible?

  Peony was young, healthy. She couldn’t be sick.

  Peony cried, brushing repeatedly at her skin, the spots.

  Cinder’s netlink took over, as it did in moments when she couldn’t think for herself. Searching, connecting, feeding information to her she didn’t want.

  Letumosis. The blue fever. Worldwide pandemic. Hundreds of thousands dead. Unknown cause, unknown cure.

  “Peony—”

  She tentatively reached forward, but Peony stumbled back, swiping at her wet cheeks and nose. “Don’t come near me! You’ll get it. You’ll all get it.”

  Cinder retracted her hand. She heard Iko at her side, fan whirring. Saw the blue light darting over Peony, around the junkyard, flickering. She was scared.

  “I said, get back!” Peony collapsed to her knees, hunching over her stomach.

  Cinder took two steps away, then lingered, watching Peony rock herself back and forth in Iko’s spotlight.

  “I…I need to call an emergency hover. To—”

  To come and take you away.

  Peony didn’t respond. Her whole body was rattling. Cinder could hear her teeth chattering in between the wails.

  Cinder shivered. She rubbed at her arms, inspecting them for spots. She couldn’t see any, but she eyed her right glove with distrust, not wanting to remove it, not wanting to check.

  She stepped back again. The junkyard shadows loomed toward her. The plague. It was here. In the air. In the garbage. How long did it take for the first symptoms of the plague to show up?

  Or…

  She thought of Chang Sacha at the market. The terrified mob running from her booth. The blare of the sirens.

  Her stomach plummeted.

  Was this her fault? Had she brought the plague home from the market?

  She checked her arms again, swiping at invisible bugs that crawled over her skin. Stumbled back. Peony’s sobs filled her head, suffocating her.

  A red warning flashed across her retina display, informing her that she was experiencing elevated levels of adrenaline. She blinked it away, then called up her comm link with a writhing gut and sent a simple message before sh
e could question it.

  EMERGENCY, TAIHANG DISTRICT JUNKYARD.

  LETUMOSIS.

  She clenched her jaw, feeling the painful dryness of her eyes. A throbbing headache told her that she should be crying, that her sobs should match her sister’s.

  “Why?” Peony said, her voice stammering. “What did I do?”

  “You didn’t do anything,” said Cinder. “This isn’t your fault.”

  But it might be mine.

  “What should I do?” Iko asked, almost too quiet to be heard.

  “I don’t know,” said Cinder. “A hover is on its way.”

  Peony rubbed her nose with her forearm. Her eyes were rimmed in red. “You n-need to go. You’ll catch it.”

  Feeling dizzy, Cinder realized she’d been breathing too shallowly. She took another step away before filling her lungs. “Maybe I already have it. Maybe it’s my fault you caught it. The outbreak at the market today…I-I didn’t think I was close enough, but…Peony, I’m so sorry.”

  Peony squeezed her eyes and buried her face again. Her brown hair was a mess of tangles hanging across her shoulders, stark against her pale skin. A hiccup, followed by another sob. “I don’t want to go.”

  “I know.”

  It was all Cinder could think to say. Don’t be scared? It will be all right? She couldn’t lie, not when it would be so obvious.

  “I wish there was something…” She stopped herself. She heard the sirens before Peony did. “I’m so sorry.”

  Peony swiped at her nose with her sleeve, leaving a trail of mucus. Then kept crying. She didn’t respond until the wails of the sirens reached her ears and her head snapped up. She stared into the distance, the entrance of the junkyard somewhere beyond the trash heaps. Eyes rounded. Lips trembling. Face blotchy red.

  Cinder’s heart shriveled in on itself.

  She couldn’t help herself. If she was going to catch it, she already had.

  She fell to her knees, wrapping Peony up in both arms. Her tool belt dug into her hip, but she ignored it as Peony grasped at her T-shirt, sobs renewed.