Chapter 17

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               Scarlet   was  piloting  the  podship. She  could  not  recall  how  long  she  had
              been flying  it,  where  she  had  been  before,  or  how  she   had ended  up  be-
               hind  here controls. But she knew very well why was there.
                      Because she wanted to be.
                       Because she needed to be.
                         If she did well, she would be rewarded. The thought made her feel joy
              ful.  Eager. Willing.
               And so she flew fast. She flew steady. She   allowed   the little ship  to 
              become  an  extension  of  her. Her  hands  gripping  the  controls,  her  fingers
                     dancing  over  the instruments. She  had  never flown   so   well,  not   since
   the  day her   grandmother had begun teaching her   in   the   delivery   ship 
          around  the  farm. How  the  ship  had warbled under  her   unskilled hands.
         How   it  rocked  and  sank,  its   landing   gear brushing against  the  just-tilled 
         dirt,  then  miraculously   drifted  back   up   toward the sky as her    grand-
  mother's patient voice talked her through the steps ...
    The memory disappeared as  fast  as  it  had    come,  snapping  her  back 
        into  the podship, and she  could   not remember   what   she   had   just   been
      thinking. She could only think of this flight. This   moment. This respon-
      sibility.
    She  paid  no  heed  to  the   stars  blurring  out  in  all  directions. She  gave  no
  thought to the planet falling farther and farther behind her.

   
           In the ship's backseat, the  woman  was  hissing  and  cursing  as  she
    tended  to her wound. She was upset, and  this  alone  bothered  Scarlet,  be-
    cause  she wanted the woman to be pleased.
       Eventually, the angry muttering died down  and  then  the  woman was
   talking.  Scarlet's heart fluttered, until she realized  that  it  was  not  to  her
    that the    woman  was   speaking. Rather, she   sent out  a  comm.  She
  heard  two  words  that  sent   a bolt of panic through her—Your Majesty.
         She was talking to the queen herself.
   It occurred to  Scarlet  that  this  knowledge  should  terrify  her, but  she
  couldn't recall  why.  Rather,  she  felt  embarrassed  to  be listening  in.  It
               wasn't  her  place to be curious. She  tried  to  ignore  the  conversation,  al-
    lowing  her  mind   to muddle and wander. Inside her head, she recited 
    childhood   rhymes that   she   hadn't though of in years.
           It mostly worked. Only when  a  name  broached  her  consciousness did
       curiosity overcome her.
            Linh Cinder.
           "No, I could  not  capture  her. I  was  overpowered. I  am  sorry,  Your 
         Majesty. I have failed you. Yes, I  have  already  sent  the  last-known  coordi-
        nates  of  the  ship to the royal guard. I was able to capture a hostage, Your 
       Majesty. One   of   her   accomplices. Perhaps she has information on  where
    Linh  Cinder  might go  next,  or what her plan could  be. I  know  it  isn't  good 
      enough,  Your  Majesty. I  will  make this up to you, Your Majesty. I will find
        her."
          This conversation ended and Scarlet's ears burned at having eaves-
          dropped. She was ashamed. She deserved punishment.
           In an attempt to make up for her delinquency, she refocused on her 
   task. Flying as smooth and fast as any pilot had ever flown. She  thought 
   only  of  how  she must fly well. She thought only of how she must make
       her mistress proud of her.
            She felt no awe as she approached the  great,  crater-filled  Luna with  its 
gleaming white surface and sparkling domed cities.
Cities that were home to countless strangers.
Cities that had been his home, once ...

        She flinched at the  intrusive  thought. She  did  not  know  what  it 
  meant. She could not remember who he was.
But this was where he came from ...
      She suppressed the voice out of nervous panic that her mistress 
would  sense her confusion. She did not want that. There was no confu-
sion.
She knew precisely where she wanted to be. Precisely who she  wished
        to  be serving.
Scarlet felt no fear as the moon dwarfed the tiny shop, expanded until
it was all she could see through the glass.
    She paid no attention to  the  hot  tears  as  they  crept  down her  cheeks 
and dropped soundlessly into her lap.

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