Scarlet

it idle in that warehouse.”
    “There may not be any trackers,” said Iko, making Cinder and Thorne both jump. They still weren’t used to their invisible, omnipresent companion. “But we can still be detected on radar. I’m doing my best to keep us out of the path of any satellites or ships, but it’s surprisingly crowded up here.”
    Thorne unrolled his sleeves. “And it’s next to impossible to re-enter Earth’s atmosphere without detection. That’s how they nabbed me last time.”
    “I thought there was a trick to it,” said Cinder. “I’m sure I heard once about a way people could sneak into Earth’s atmosphere without notice. Where did I hear that?”
    “News to me. I got pretty good at sweet-talking my way into public hangars, but I don’t think that’s going to work with such a high-profile convict on the loose.”
    Having found an old rubber band in the galley, Cinder fished it from her pocket and tossed her hair up in a ponytail. Her brain ticked through her memories until, with a snap, it came to her. Dr. Erland had told her that there were more Lunars on Earth than people suspected, and that they had a way of getting to Earth without the government taking notice.
    “Lunars know how to cloak their spacecrafts.”
    “Huh?”
    She pulled herself from the daze, blinking at Thorne. “Lunars can cloak their spacecrafts. Keep Earthen radars from picking up on them. That’s how so many are able to make it to Earth, if they manage to get away from Luna in the first place.”
    “That’s terrifying,” said Iko, who had acknowledged the truth of Cinder’s race much as she’d acknowledged Thorne’s convict status: with loyalty and acceptance, but without changing her opinion that Lunars and convicts remained untrustworthy and unredeemable as a general rule.
    Cinder had not yet figured out how to tell her that she also happened to be the missing Princess Selene.
    “I know it is,” said Cinder, “but it would be awfully convenient if I knew how they did it.”
    “Do you think it’s with their”—Thorne rolled his wrist toward her—“crazy Lunar magic stuff?”
    “Bioelectricity,” she said, quoting Dr. Erland. “Calling it magic only empowers them.”
    “Whatever.”
    “I don’t know. It could be some special technology they install on their ships.”
    “Optimistically hoping it’s magic, maybe you should start practicing?”
    Cinder bit the inside of her cheek. Start practicing what ?
    “I guess I can try.” Turning her attention back to the crate, she pulled up the lid and was met with a box of packing chips. She stuffed her metal hand into it and emerged with a skinny wooden doll bedecked in feathers and painted with six eyes. “What is this?”
    “Venezuelan dream doll.”
    “It’s hideous.”
    “It’s worth about twelve thousand univs.”
    Heart skipping, Cinder lowered the doll back into the protective packaging. “You don’t think you might have something useful in all of these? Like, I don’t know, a fully charged power cell?”
    “Doubtful,” said Thorne. “How much longer will ours hold out?”
    Iko chimed, “Approximately thirty-seven hours.”
    Thorne gave Cinder a thumbs-up. “Plenty of time to learn a new Lunar trick, right?”
    Cinder shut the crate’s lid and slid it back against the others, trying not to show panic at having to use her new gift for anything, much less something as huge as disguising a cargo ship.
    “In the meantime, I’ll do a little research, try to determine the best place for us to land. Not the Commonwealth, obviously. I hear Fiji’s nice this time of year.”
    “Or Los Angeles!” Iko practically sang. “They have a huge escort-droid outlet store there. I wouldn’t mind having an escort-droid body. Some of the newer models come with color-changing fiber-optic hair.”
    Cinder slumped onto the floor again and scratched at her wrist—a tick that was becoming awkward now that she had no gloves to fiddle with. “We’re not landing a stolen American ship in the American Republic,” she said, fixing her attention on the netscreen, where her own prison picture hovered in the corner. She was so sick of that picture.
    “Do you have any suggestions?” said Thorne.
    Africa.
    She heard herself saying it, but nothing came out.
    That’s where she was supposed to go. To meet Dr. Erland, so that he could tell her what to do next. He had plans for her. Plans to make her a hero, a savior, a princess. Plans to overthrow