Senin, 03 April 2017

Sifon Cake Pandan

Ahahai, 
selamat siang.. !

Hari Senin harusnya disambut dengan semangat kan ya, tapi pagi ini saya merasa begitu entah berentah. Rasanya bad mood gitu butuh mood booster. Lalu tetiba kepikiran, gimana kalau baking dulu. Baking apa? ya sifon cake. Yang paling favorit!

Kebetulan semua bahan ada karena ibu kemarin habis beli jeruk nipis (pengganti cream of tar-tar). Dan cus langsung siapin bahan-bahan. Tepung, gula halus, susu, telur, minyak goreng. Eh, nemu sedikit sisa kismis. Pake aja dah.

Tadinya sempat bingung mau bikin sifon cake rasa apa. Terakhir baking kan bikin ogura rasa kopi.
Kepikiran mau bikin sifon cake cinnamon aja. Selain belum pernah nyobain rasa ini, saya juga suka wanginya kayu manis siih. Etapi, nggak punya gula palem biar warna dan rasanya lebih tradisionil. Yasudahlah, maybe next time. Akhirnya bikin sifon cake rasa pandan.

Sebetulnya ini bukan kali pertama bikin sifon cake sih. Tapi teteeep... khawatir sama tekstur dan bentuknya. Selama bikin beberapa kali masih coba-coba semua, dari takaran adonan, kecepatan mixer, panas oven, dan rasa. 

Yah, beginiliah, iseng-iseng aja. Tapi bisa banget jadi mood booster ternyata. Senin pagiku jadi lebih semangat. Hehe.

Tadi nggak kepikiran mau posting di blog sih, jadi bahan-bahan dan pembuatannya nggak difoto. Pas liat waktu ngoven, duh harumnya nggak nahan.. ngintip oven, voiila, udah mengembang cantik. Tergoda buat foto... :D :D Ini diaa.....


Sifon cake emang gampang banget bikinnya.. (eh enggak juga dink. Salah proses rawan gagal ini), maksudnya... proses bikinnya cepet gitu. Yang lama adalah..  after bake-nya. Jadi kan kalau sifon cake nggak bisa langsung dilepas dari loyangnya. Harus nunggu minimal satu jam-an deh biar rotinya dingin dulu sampe suhu ruangan.

Nah, sambil ngerjain yang lain, nggak terasa satu jam sudah berlalu. Pegang loyang udah nggak anget, nggak sabar deh mau bongkar sifon pandanku yang wangiiii bangeeet.. Dengan penuh perjuangan, akhirnya ini cake bisa keluar dari loyangnya. Yaah. walaupun bagian pantatnya agak nggak rapi gitu. Ah sudahlah.. Begini lah jadinya...


Baiklah, setelah difoto utuh, mari kita coba iris...


Seperti biasa, cakenya lembuuuuuut bangeeet.. Sambil foto rotinya sebenernya udah pengen comot atu. wkwkwk.

Can you see the pores? Itu pori-pori cakenya bolong-bolong agak gede gitu yah.. Seingetku, sifon cake terakhir yang kubuat nggak segede itu sih.. Ehm.. mungkin tadi kesalahan aduk deh..Tapi nggak papa, tetep cantik.

Dan enaaaaak ternyata... apalagi ada butiran-butiran kismis... nyeemm.. nyemm..

Tadinya sih, rencana mau saya kasih toping keju. Kan saya suka banget sama keju. Bayanginnya... sifon cake nya lembut kempus-kempus, manis, ceplus-ceplus kismis... tambahin keju... pasti enaaak banget..


Berhubung lagi nggak sedia keju di rumah dan males ke warung yang cuma depan gang, udah nggak sabar juga pengen comot.. Langsung makan aja lah ya.. aslii.. enak banget.. 1 potong.. 2 potong.. 3 potong.. ehh.. aduh.. saking soft-nya sampe nggak kerasa kalo udah makan banyak.. wkwk.

Ini resep sifon cake pake resepnya Tintin Rayner. Next time saya share ya resepnya. Siapa tau ada yang mau bikin.

Nyaaam... nyaaam.... :D






Kamis, 09 Maret 2017

Buntelan Buku 3

Yeaaay...
Buntelan hadiah GA ketiga yang kuterima...

GA pertama sih sebetulnya, tapi datangnya malah belakangan..

Naah, buku hadiah GA kali ini judulnya adalah Cinderella Syndrome. Buku karya mba Leyla Hana. Kalo yang sebelum-sebelumnya pake usaha kayak bikin foto dan kalimat, GA ini lebih ke faktor luck. Hihi. Jadi pemenangnya dipilih random gitu.

Ini dia penampakannya..


Fotonya waktu makan siang di warung sebelah.. fokus ke bukunya aja yaa 😅😅

Berhubung datangnya belakangan, mungkin nanti bacanya agak belakangan juga.. hehe.
Kemarin habis birong buku waktu #Ngayogbook17 .. astaga... buku kok begitu menggoda yah..
Baju di mall aja nggak se-menggoda buku 😅😅

Selasa, 28 Februari 2017

Buntelan Buku 2


Halo semua,
Ketemu lagi..
Saya mau pamer buku.. eh pamer. wkwk.
Enggak dink.
Jadi saya mau nunjukin buntelan buku hadiah GA lagi. Alhamdulillah ya..
Beberapa hari yang lalu.. mm Sebetulnya sudah hampir satu minggu, tapi saya lupa terus mau update di blog. Hehe. Seperti biasa mas JNE teriak "Pakeeet". Langsung saya lari-lari keluaar rumah. Dan.... taraaaa.. paketan buku.. seneng bangeeeet deh rasanya dapat paketan buku. 
Langsung aja deh dibuka bungkusnya... Aduh cantik banget.
Isinya sebuah novel, lalu ada surat yang bertuliskan namaku. Halah seneng banget berasa dapat surat cinta wkwk. Lalu sebuah pesawat kertas. Lengkap banget. Aku sukaaaaa!

Novel ini berjudul "Gadis Penenun Mimpi dan Pria Pelipat Kertas Terbang" karya kak Gina Gabrielle.
Kemarin saya menangin GA di blog Bintang dan juga blog Kak Ken dengan mengupload gambar yang ada sampul novel ini.
Nah, ini saya tunjukkan hasil fotonya. Hihi. Entahlah saya sendiri masih belum puas dengan hasilnya, tapi ternyata saya yang menang. Pokoknya Alhamdulillah aja, rejeki nggak kemana.. ya kan?


Hmm... udah pengen banget baca sih sebetulnya.. 
Ditunggu review-nya di blog Cuka Buku yaa :)

Senin, 13 Februari 2017

Buntelan Buku 1

Beberapa minggu terakhir, saya lagi demen banget menguji peruntungan saya dengan sering ikutan kuis berhadiah buku. Salah satunya adalah kuis yang beberapa minggu lalu sempat diadakan oleh NovelAddict. Waktu itu kuis bekerja sama dengan penulis Angelique Puspadewi daan berhadiah dua buku karyanya. (Padahal sebenarnya waktu ikut saya nggak tau kalo ternyata hadiahnya 2 buku sekaligus) 😁

Dan... taraaaaa...
Beberapa hari yang lalu.. mm.. tanggal 9 Februari apa yah.. datanglah seorang pria ke rumah.. itu si Mas teriak.. "Pakeeeeett!" Ahaha ternyata Mas Kurir datang mengantar buku.. Nah disinilah saya selalu merasa bahagia.. kedatangan paket buku! 😍

Langsung saya buka bungkusnya.. Saya temukan dua buah novel bersampul pink. Kental banget nuansa pink-nya. Jadi judul bukunya apa?
Yang pertama berjudul "The Rising Star". Kayak acara pencarian bakat itu yah. Hihi.
Buku yang kedua judulnya "No One But You". Novel ini nampak lebih menjanjikan sih sepertinya.

Well.. ini dia penampakan dua buku itu..


Terima kasih buat kak Angel atas buku-buku kirimannya..

Btw, tunggu review saya di blog Cuka Buku yaak.. 😊
See youu.. 👋😆

Rabu, 08 Februari 2017

Lunar Chronicles Deleted Scene #9

Daaan... ini dia part terakhir deleted scene dari serial novel The Lunar Chronicles...

Selamat membacaa...

SPOILER WARNING!!

***

From: Cress, 1st draft

Featuring: Cinder, Wolf, Scarlet, and Thorne (who was named Woods in this early draft)

Helpful set-up: As per my note above, this scene didn’t really fit anywhere into the story, so it’s a little difficult to place in the timeline of what ultimately happened. But, generally speaking – this would have taken place after Wolf and Scarlet joined the crew of the Rampion. Thorne is blind, but Cress is missing… I’m not entirely sure how they got separated from her, or where she is.

Not really important to this scene, but they also didn’t yet know who the Lunar Heir was… largely because, in those early drafts, *I* wasn’t sure who it was! I had arguments in my head for it being Cinder, Scarlet, or Cress, and had decided to figure it out for sure after the drafts were written.

* * *

*** PLEASE NOTE: I’m calling this scene PG-13, for language and suggestiveness. ***

“You know what this crew needs,” said Woods, dragging his spoon through the bowl of oatmeal, topped only with a bit of cinnamon, “is a cook.”

Cinder raised her eyebrow at him. His eyes were still unnerving to look at, their utter blankness filled her with pity.

“Well don’t look at me,” she said, then gasped.

Woods’s empty gaze shifted in her direction. “Hardy har har.”

“I didn’t mean that… I just… Anyway, I used to have to cook for my stepmother when the maid android was broken, and I always hated it. I’m not going to take it up again.”

“No, I wasn’t meaning you anyway,” said Woods. “You’re the mechanic. Scarlet is the pilot. I’m the captain. Wolf is… Wolf, but I can’t easily imagine him behind a stove.” He sighed. “Maybe we can put out an ad or something.”

“Fugitive pirate ship in search of chef? Excellent idea.”

“We wouldn’t put the ad in the newsscreens. Oh, nevermind.” He shoved another mouthful of the slop into his mouth. Cinder was glad to see that his hand-to-mouth coordination didn’t seem to be suffering any.

“I feel like we could use a doctor,” she said, stirring her own bowl of oatmeal. “Would have been handy today.”

“What other injuries did we suffer?” he asked, setting down the spoon and frowning in her direction.

SHE TELLS HIM THE INJURIES.

Woods grunted. “Yeah. A doctor would be nice, too. But I have a feeling it would be even harder to coerce a reputable doctor into joining us than a chef.”

“Maybe we can find a doctor who can cook.”

“Or a chef who knows first aid.”

“Is there any left?” said Scarlet, emerging from the hallway with Wolf following close behind her.

“Well there you two are,” said Woods. “Don’t you know Cinder slaved over this delicious oatmeal? And you let it go cold.”

“Actually,” said Scarlet, “I slaved over the oatmeal. I’m glad you think it’s delicious, captain.”

“I was lying,” he said, and devoured another spoonful.

Scarlet and Wolf sat down at the table recently released from confinement within one of the large wooden crates.

“You know what we really need,” said Cinder, “more than a cook or a doctor, is money. We’ve almost blown through our reserves already, and our food supply is fast dwindling to nothing but oats and rice.”

“At least they’re nutritious,” said Scarlet. She glanced at Wolf as he shoveled some oatmeal into his mouth, then smiled tight-lipped at her.

“Mmm,” he said sarcastically.

Glaring, she smacked him on the shoulder.

“All right,” said Woods. “If we’re stuck on finding the Lunar Heir and we’re stuck on finding Cress, then I concur, a good payday should be next priority. Brainstorming on quick ways to make some solid cash: Begin.”

Cinder glanced at Scarlet and Wolf. “Well… uh… given that we’re already fugitives, I guess we could steal something. But I only want to steal from bad people.”

“Of course. Because we’re honorable fugitives,” Woods said. “Next idea.”

“Wolf can earn us money,” Scarlet said, quietly, peering at Wolf from the corner of her eye.

Wolf nodded. “Gladly.”

“How?” said Woods. “Don’t tell me you come from a rich family that I don’t know about.”

“I can fight,” Wolf said.

Cinder stared at him and Woods stared in his general direction.

“Is that code for something? Last I checked, fighting wasn’t an actual occupation. More like a hobby.”

“Street fighting,” said Scarlet. “He did it in Paris when we met. There’s a pretty big underground fighting ring in the city. I mean, there’s probably underground street fighting all over the world.”

“How does it work? In regards to the earning money part, not the knocking another guy out part.”

“I fight, you bet money on me, and I win,” said Wolf. “And then I get a cut of it, but mostly the money goes to the bidders.”

“Huh,” said Woods, his eyes turned down to the table. “That actually sounds like it might work.”

“He made over ___ thousand dollars in one fight once,” said Scarlet.

“Really?” said Cinder. “That’s amazing.”

“I thought of mentioning it before,” said Wolf, “but fighting… it does something to me. It makes me… something one might not want on their crew.”

“We’ve all seen you in your beastly glory,” said Woods, half-smiling. “And we haven’t thrown you off yet.”

“Yes, but… the line becomes thinner when I still look like a man.”

Scarlet settled a hand on Wolf’s wrist.

“I swear to only ask it of you in desperate times,” said Woods, pushing his chair back from the table. “And imagine that. All of the sudden, Wolf is the most useful person on this ship.”


*


They were in Paris for two days before Wolf was finally able to get news of the street fighting underground. The fight locations would change every day to keep the police from discovering them, so if a person was out of the loop for any extended period of time it could border on impossible to get back into it. But Wolf finally got a hint while sitting alone at the bar of a local Parisian dive while Woods, Scarlet, and Cinder watched on from a booth.

“Thank goodness,” Scarlet muttered when Wolf turned and winked at them.

“What? What is it?” said Woods, nursing a beer.

“Looks like he’s picked something up,” said Scarlet. “Finish your beer. We’re heading out.”

They met Wolf in the alley behind the bar, Woods hanging on Scarlet’s arm and grumbling about it every minute.

“What’d you hear?” Scarlet said.

“It’s in the warehouse district tonight,” Wolf answered, eyes flashing at Woods’s arm entwined around Scarlet’s, though he said nothing. “317A.”

“What time?” asked Woods.

“Ten-ish.”

“That late?”

“It’s already after nine,” said Cinder.

“Really?” Woods glowered up toward the sky. “It doesn’t feel like night.”

“We better go,” said Scarlet, taking Wolf’s elbow with her free hand. “If you think you’re ready.”

“I’m always ready,” he said, kissing her lips.

Woods grimaced. “I do wish you guys would stop doing that when I’m standing right here.”


*


They entered warehouse 317A together, Woods with his arm around Cinder and Wolf with his arm around Scarlet so that Woods wouldn’t feel weird. “Do I look like I can see?” he asked.

“Kind of,” said Cinder, glancing at him. “But tilt your head back a bit more and level out your gaze, otherwise you look shy and embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“Who would be embarrassed to be seen with a sexy cyborg like you?”

“Don’t make me take away your hearing, too.”

“Could you do that?”

“I don’t know. But I could try.”

They stopped just within the entrance. The warehouse was a hive of activity. The air pulsed with heat and noise and wreaked of sweat and dirt.

“Describe it to me,” said Woods.

Cinder inhaled a sharp breath and scanned the room. “There’s a big square platform in the center of the room with a fight going on,” she said. “Two big burly scary looking guys.”

“Scarier than Wolf?”

“Scruffier than Wolf. There’s probably about a hundred people watching, mostly men. No chairs. I see a couple women wandering around… I think they’re soliciting.”

A grin spread across Woods’s face. “Nice. Maybe you can pick us up some cash on the side.”

Cinder smacked Woods harshly on the back of his head with her robotic hand. He cried out in pain and rubbed at the spot. “I was just joking.”

“Oh, I think I see the guy collecting the money,” she said.

“All right, let’s get this over with. The noise is making me nervous. Wolf,” Woods turned in the direction he hoped Wolf and Scarlet were still standing, “your captain says: Go Forth and Fight.”

“Yes, sir,” Wolf said, pulling Scarlet with him toward the crowd.

But they had not gone ten feet before someone yelled, “It’s him!”

And within moments, the crowd’s attention had largely turned from the continuing fight to Wolf and Scarlet and there was a general cheer of “Wolf’s back!” and “It’s that guy who beat Hunter!”

Scarlet clutched Wolf’s arm as those nearby turned and leered at them. “They barely knew you before,” she said. “That one fight made you a celebrity?”

“Looks like it,” he muttered, drawing her protectively against him. “Hunter had been undefeated.”

“Wolf man, we missed you,” said a complete stranger, swatting Wolf on the back. “Are you fighting tonight?”

“Yes,” he answered, turning away from the man. He lowered his lips toward Scarlet’s ear. “We need to change our plan,” he whispered to her.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the underdog anymore. They’re all going to expect me to win.”

“So?”

“So you can’t make money if everyone’s bidding on the same guy.”

Her eyes widened in understanding and she turned her gaze toward the fight platform just as one of the men was knocked to the ground, nose spurting blood.

“Then what do we do?”

“Tell Woods to bet on the other guy, whoever he is.”

“What?”

“I’ll throw the fight.”

She gaped at him. “But you’ll get hurt.”

A lopsided grin crossed his face, as if amused at her concerned. “Not bad,” he said. “I’ll be in control the whole time, it will just look like I lose. And Woods will be the only one who bids on the underdog, or one of few. It’s the only way.”

Scarlet was frowning, so Wolf craned his head and kissed her neck, ignoring the catcalls that jeered them. Or maybe basking in them. “I’ll be fine,” he murmured. “Go back to Woods and Cinder.”

“Okay,” she said back to him. “Be careful.”

Wolf had little fear of letting her go and, true to suspicion, a path opened up before her as she headed back to the captain. They’d seen him mark his territory, and no one who had seen the fight between him and Hunter would dare attempt to snatch her away from him.

Grinning, he turned back to the stranger who had greeted him before, who was now staring at him with wide-eyed appreciation.

“Nice,” the guy said.

“Anyone here worth fighting?” Wolf asked, eyes darting around the room.

“Hunter hasn’t been here all week,” said the guy. “But there is some new kid who’s a lot of talk. Had a good couple of fight the last few nights. They call him Thorn.”

Wolf nodded. “That’ll do.”


*


“What’s going on now?” Woods asked when Scarlet greeted them near the back of the crowd.

“They’re putting Wolf’s name up on the board,” said Cinder. “Looks like he’s fighting some guy called Thorn.”

“Doesn’t anybody have a normal name in the underground?”

“Not really,” said Scarlet. “We need go to put our money in.”

“For Thorn?”

“Yes.”

Woods grunted. “Man, this is a bad time to go blind. I’d love to see some wimpy kid beat the crap out of Wolf. It would just be too funny.”

Cinder led Woods toward the man taking the bets—a large guy with a big gut who wore a belt of pouches around his waist, each pouch bulging with paper money.

“There he is,” said Scarlet. “That must be Thorn.”

She and Cinder looked up at the fighter who had climbed up on the platform.

“He doesn’t look too wimpy,” said Cinder.

Woods sighed. “Details, please.”

“A little shorter than Wolf, but his muscles are just as big,” said Cinder.

“They are not just as big,” Scarlet said with a snort. “Wolf is just better proportioned.”

“Fine, whatever. Anyway, the guy has spiky blonde hair and… kind of a baby face, really.”

Woods rolled his eye. “And we really have to bet on that guy?”

“Well I would hate to see Wolf throw this for nothing.”

Woods sighed. “All right. Are we there yet? I feel like we just walked a mile.”

“Your sense of perception is off. And the crowd is really tight around the bet taker. It’ll take a minute.”

“Scarlet, count the money,” Woods said, passing a handful of bills to her. “You two need to make sure we don’t get shorted.”

Scarlet took the money, but her gaze was glued to the stage as Wolf climbed up to the platform. The crowd burst into applause and jeers, but it was the opponent’s, Thorn’s, reaction that intrigued her most.

“He looks terrified,” said Scarlet.

“Well wouldn’t you?” said Woods.

“Yeah, but…” Scarlet chewed her lip and caught Cinder’s concerned gaze. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“What?” said Woods. “You don’t really think Wolf’s going to get hurt, do you?”

“No, not about that. I actually… I don’t know. He needs to at least make it look believable, right? Do you think it’s possible that he won’t be able to throw this fight?”

Woods laughed. “You mean you think this kid might crumble even from a few fake throws?”

“If Wolf knows how to fake a throw,” said Cinder. “Look, the guy is free now. Let’s go.”

Scarlet quickly flipped through the money in her hand and slipped half of it into Woods’s hand and the rest into his pocket. “I wouldn’t bet it all this fight,” she said.

“You sure? Wolf said—”

“I know, but… honestly, I don’t think Wolf has any idea how terrified some of these fighters are of him. He still underestimates himself, after everything.”

Woods nodded. “Okay, Cinder, we’re up.”

[change: Scarlet keeps half of the money in private]

As expected, the bet taker looked at Woods and Cinder as if they were insane when they put their money down on Thorn as opposed to the reigning champion, but he didn’t argue. Cinder watched as he counted the money and wrote it down in his ledger and then turned quickly away from them.

“Here we go,” she muttered into Woods’s arms. “Do you want a first row seat so you can see all the action, captain?”

“Very funny, mechanic. Where’d Scarlet go?”

Cinder peered around and saw Scarlet loitering off the edge of the crowd, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Not far,” she told Woods and dragged him grumpily back through the crowd, just as a bell sounded and the fight began.

The crowd exploded in an uproar. Scarlet, wide-eyed, chewed on her knuckle and said nothing as Cinder and Woods approached her and turned to watch the fight.

“What’s going on?” said Woods.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. They’re both just standing there.”

“Standing standing or crouched-ready-to-fight standing?”

“Honestly, Woods, I’m not a sports broadcaster.”

“And I’m not used to being blind, but sometimes we all have to do things we’re uncomfortable with, right?”

Cinder rolled her eyes. “They look ready to fight,” she said. “Wolf looks calm and Thorn looks like he’s about to wet himself.”

“That’s better.”

“I wish Wolf could at least pretend to look nervous,” said Scarlet. “He’s not going to be very convincing at this rate.”

“Are they fighting yet?”

“No. It seems like they’re both waiting for the other to make the first move.”

The crowd was quickly becoming frustrated with the lack of action, and even Wolf seemed mildly irritated with his opponent. With an obvious sigh, he pulled himself to full height and gestured at Thorn. A “your turn” gesture.

“Wolf is trying to goad him into taking the first hit,” said Cinder. “But…” She chuckled ironically. “Thorn just shook his head.”

The crowd burst into laughter and harsh name-calling.

“Egad,” Woods said. “I knew he was a wuss. What kind of a name is Thorn, anyway?” [Future Marissa says: BWAHAHAHAHA.]

On the platform, Wolf let his shoulder fall for a moment, then pulled his hands roughly through his wild dark hair. A glance out at the crowd was filled with hopeless confusion, until his eyes met Scarlet. She gave him a small smile and jerked her head toward the stationary opponent.

“What’s going on now?” Woods said.

“Still nothing,” Cinder growled. “I’ll tell you when something—oh!”

“What? What oh?”

“Wolf just hit him!”

“Hit him? Where? How hard? Why?”

“I didn’t even see him move,” she gasped.

“Details, Cinder!”

“He hit him in the face,” she said. “And Thorn does not appear to be getting back up.”

Woods slowly turned to face her. “Are you telling me that Wolf just… won?”

“It would appear that way.”

Woods cursed.

“It’s okay,” said Scarlet, digging the rest of the money out of her pocket and shoving it into Woods’s hand. “We’ll make it back. Just think how many people are bound to bet on him now for the next fight.”

“If there is a next fight,” said Woods. “Does it look like anybody is lining up to fight him?”

Scarlet blinked at Cinder, and then turned to face Wolf, who was standing on the platform with arms folded, looking cranky despite his clear win as Thorn was dragged from the stage. Around them, the crowd pulsed and thrived and cheered, though there was an undercurrent of disappointment.

Everyone had been hoping for a much bigger spectacle.

“Anyone else?” yelled Wolf to the crowd, opening his arms wide in an invitation. “Who else wants to fight? Come on.”

“Do I hear Wolf yelling?” Woods asked, turning his head left to right and back in confusion.

“Yes,” said Cinder. “He’s trying to get someone else to come up and fight him.”

“And is anyone going?”

“It doesn’t look like it,” she said, scanning the audience. The few men lingering in the crowd who had clearly come there with the purpose of fighting were now loitering back away from the platform, avoiding eye contact with the champion.

“Great,” said Woods. “And this idea had so much potential, too.”

“There’s street fighting all over the world,” said Scarlet. “We just need to go somewhere where they don’t know him.”

Scattered members of the crowd had started to boo now, not at Wolf but at the terrified fighters trying to hide themselves among them.

Cinder gulped and pulled herself to full height. “I’m going up,” she said.

Scarlet and Woods both turned to her. “What?”

“I’m going up. I’m going to go fight him.”

Scarlet gaped. “Are you insane?”

“He’s going to throw it, isn’t he?”

“Yeah… after he hits you a few times.”

“I can take getting hit a few times.”

Exasperated, Scarlet gestured at Thorn, still slumped in a corner. “That guy is twice your size and he couldn’t handle it.”

“And,” said Woods, “how do you intend to win? It’s all fist fighting. They won’t let you use your fancy hand toys.”

“Well good thing one of my fists is made of metal, right?” she said, stepping away from Woods and letting Scarlet take her place at his side. “Just bet the rest on me,” she said. “And trust Wolf.”

“Hit him hard!” Scarlet called after her.

Woods was staring blankly in her direction. “You realize you just gave her permission to hit your boyfriend?”

Scarlet shrugged. “She’s going to have to. If anyone believes this is staged, we are all dead.”

Woods sighed and crumpled the bills up in his hand. “Do you think she’s ever hit anybody in her entire life?”

“I don’t know… but didn’t she once try to kill the king of the Eastern Commonwealth?”

Woods grunted. “Yeah, but… I don’t think she tried to kill him in hand-to-hand combat.”


*


Cinder pushed her way through the crowd with her heart hammering painfully at her chest. She had a strong feeling that if the lock on her magic hadn’t been previously removed, the anxiety filling every nerve of her body would have been more than enough to set off a shock of unbelievably agonizing pain in her lower back.

But as she didn’t have the mysterious pain to worry about, it was only the un-mysterious pain she was trying to brace herself for.

Utter embarrassment and some hard hits to the face.

Some of the men in the crowd turned appreciative, smug smiles on her as she passed, but it was not until she was pulling herself onto the platform that she garnered much attention.

Upon hearing the crowd burst into excited, uncontrollable laughter, Wolf turned around. His eyes widened in shock as Cinder drew herself up to standing, desperately trying to ignore the gut-busting laughs and offensive catcalls and whistles that filled the hot warehouse.

Wolf looked out at the crowd, stunned, and then tried to laugh along with them as if he, too, thought this was some sort of practical joke, but the laugh never reached his gaze.

Another man clambered onto the platform and bent his head toward Cinder. “What are you doing?” the man asked.

“I’m going to fight him,” she said.

The man chuckled, but Cinder’s icy glare silenced the laugh.

“But you’re… you’re…”

“Female?”

“Yes! He’s gonna tear you apart.”

“Well then,” she said, flashing a flirtatious smile at him, “I guess you’d better put your money on him, hadn’t you?”

The man scratched behind his ear. “Are you crazy?”

“Are there rules that say a woman cannot compete?”

“Well… no, but—”

“Then I want to fight him,” she said. “So put my name up on that big board of yours and start taking some damn bets.”

The man opened his mouth as if to object again, glanced back at Wolf—who shrugged at him—and then returned his gaze to her. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she hissed. “Now would you leave so I can… strategize?”

He inhaled a deep breath. “All right. If you insist,” he said. “What name should I put up for you?”

“Cyborg.”

“We already have a Cyborg.”

“What? Is he a real cyborg?”

“Um… no, I don’t think so, but he did get the name first.”

Cinder groaned and pulled a hand through her hair. “Fine. Um…” she glanced out at Woods and Scarlet, looking petrified on the edges of the crowd. “Assassin, then.”

“Assassin it is,” he said and, with another fearful glance at Wolf, scampered off the stage.

When the man was gone, Wolf approached her suspiciously. When they were toe to toe, he craned his head down, but did not touch her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m your next opponent,” she said.

“Cinder, I don’t—”

“Just go with it, Wolf.”

She could see a twitch developing in his eyebrow, and sighed. “Look, you need to talk to the crowd. Get some of them to bet.”

“Am I supposed to lose this fight?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

He drew away from her and looked purely horrified.

Cinder rolled her eyes and threw a left-handed punch at his jaw.

The crowd gasped and fell silent as Wolf stumbled back, gripping his jaw in shock.

The silence was almost immediately swallowed up by more laughter and cheers.

“Get them to bet,” she hissed at Wolf, then cast a shy looking shrug out at the audience. A glance at their companions showed Scarlet with both hands clasped over her mouth and Woods looking blankly around the crowd with his face contorted in frustrated confusion.

“All right then,” she heard Wolf grumble as he turned away from her and paced to the other end of the platform.

“The lady wants to fight,” he yelled out at the crowd, holding his open hands out. “And I never say no to a lady.” He cast a wink at Scarlet when he said this, but she was too shocked and petrified to look flattered.

The crowd was all hilarity again.

“So who are you all going to bet for?” Wolf said, pointing at the bet collector in the crowd. “If I hear of anyone, anyone putting their money up for her,” he gestured at Cinder with his thumb, “I’ll be coming for you next.”

Cinder tried her best to look cocky as the crowd reacted to Wolf’s jabs, but her gaze was mostly focused on Woods and a pale-faced Scarlet as she guided him toward the bet collector.

“Who hasn’t placed a bet?” Wolf called out to the audience. “Are you all gonna make this worth my time or not?”

With relief, Cinder saw that more and more people were heading toward the bet collector.

“I’m really scared right now,” Wolf said through a grin, “I just might get assassinated.”

Even Cinder laughed now, though it was a mixture of nerves on the fritz and an odd tickled feeling at seeing Wolf as the center of attention—he was normally so quiet.

The man who had taken Cinder’s fight name appeared again at the edge of the platform. “You two about ready?”

Wolf turned and raised an eyebrow at Cinder.

She gulped and pretended arrogance again. “You bet,” she said, flashing a thumbs up at the man.

His expression was pure pity as he turned away from them.

A moment later, a bell rang out somewhere near the stage.

Wolf instantly crouched down into his fighting pose.

Cinder stole a quick glance at Woods and Scarlet in the crowd, glad to see that they had placed their bets. Leaning on Scarlet’s arms, Woods was clearly straining to listen to her as she gave him the play-by-play.

They both looked worried.

“Hey, assassinator.”

She glanced back at Wolf and glared at him, settling a hand upon her hip, but he looked purely serious.

“Keep your eye on me, little girl,” he said, green eyes flashing. The insult was meant for the crowd, the look of concern was meant for her. “Time to focus.”

Cinder inhaled a deep breath and settled into her own fighting stance, trying to imitate Wolf. His mouth twitched in amusement and Cinder felt anger flare inside of her.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing,” he said. “You go first.”

She tried to find a zone where she could no longer hear the crowd, no longer see the endless amusement on their faces.

With a nod, she rushed toward Wolf and swung her fist at his face.

He dodged easily, grabbed her wrist, and threw her to her back on the platform.

Cinder stared up at the warehouse ceiling, gasping for breath. A moment later, Wolf’s large hand appeared in her eyesight. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet, but she could not pretend not to be annoyed.

“All right,” Wolf said. “Pay attention. Two fists.” He balled his hands into fists and showed them to her. “Keep them up in front of your face at all times. That’s how you protect yourself. Throw from the shoulder. The most important thing is following through. Don’t aim for my face, aim for a foot beyond my face. Got it?”

Cinder’s jaw had fallen open and she cast a stunned glance out at the crowd, practically rolling with laughter. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.

“Making this look at least somewhat believable,” he said.

“Can I kick? Or is that against the rules?”

“No, you can kick, too,” said Wolf, lowering his fists.

Frustration etched into her features, Cinder pulled a hand through her hair and stepped a few feet away from Wolf to gather her wits.

She balled her fists and held them before her face as Wolf had shown her, ignoring the teases of the crowd. Then she inhaled a deep breath, dropped her right fist, spun on her foot and sent her titanium foot soaring at Wolf’s head.

It clocked him on the ear.

In the crowd’s sudden disbelieving silence, Wolf stumbled and fell back, clutching the side of his head.

A sense of pride welling in her heart, Cinder approached Wolf, flexing her fingers, but the cockiness was gone in an instant when Wolf whipped his arm toward the back of her knees and sent her falling to the platform with a squeal

Cinder cursed and quickly pushed her way back onto her feet.

Wolf, back on his feet as well, was grinning. “Not a bad roundhouse, Assassinator,” he said. For emphasis, he gently touched the side of his head again and ran his tongue along his front canine teeth. Then he said, quieter, “I’m going to hit you now.”

Cinder glared at him. “Are you really supposed to tell—”

Her words were interrupted by a gasp as Wolf’s fist hit her stomach. She hunched over his extended arm, struggling to breathe.

“Next time,” he muttered into her ear, “block.”

Cinder nodded and stumbled back from him. Wolf used her recovery period to turn away and spend a moment riling the crowd.

Setting her jaw, Cinder pulled her leg up again for a front push kick to Wolf’s back.

He grunted and fell to his knees.

Regaining her balance, Cinder followed it with another roundhouse to his head, this time with her right, human foot.

It connected, but Wolf, less surprised now, took only a minute to jump to his feet and turn back toward her. He shook his head and bit back a laugh, then fell into another fight stance.

“Good,” he said, though it was almost more like a growl. “Ready?”

Without waiting for a response, he pounced, aiming a write hook at Cinder’s face.

She raised her left, metal hand, easily blocking the punch this time, but within seconds a clang resounded in her head as Wolf’s left hook contacted her jaw.

She cried out stumbled back, but, with an angry shake of her head, she quickly sprung back to him and aimed a few hooks at his face, too.

Wolf blocked the first two.

The third he let through and Cinder grunted as her metal fist crunched against Wolf’s eye.

The crowd was a mixture of cheers and boos.

Cheers—such an entertaining fight had not been witnessed in ages.

Boos—they’d all put money on Wolf, expecting little competition.

Cinder was glad to think that some of them might actually be a bit worried about the outcome of this fight, and their bets.

Cinder turned her attention back to Wolf, who had his face hidden from the audience as he pretended to nurse his aching face, but beneath the big hand he was grinning at her.

He winked.

Cinder bit down on the inside of her cheek, but it was not enough to keep a laugh from escaping her.

Maybe it would be interpreted by the crowd as a maniacal laugh, though.

Wolf sunk again into his fighting stance.

Hot and sweating, but filled with adrenaline, Cinder mimicked the action, flexing her hands a few times before making the awkward fists.

Wolf’s gaze dropped momentarily to Cinder’s left foot, a flicker of his focus almost imperceptible.

Her nod was equally invisible to the jeering crowd pressing in all around them.

Wolf moved first. Fast, but not his fastest. Strong, but not his strongest.

But no one else would know.

He ducked low and aimed a fist for her side.

Cinder whipped her hand down, catching the punch with her forearm and was able to use the momentum to send her metal knee into Wolf’s ribcage.

He grunted—she could not tell how much of the sound was faked.

Running on instinct, Cinder sent her fist at Wolf’s face again, but he blocked it, catching her fist in his crushing—but not really crushing—grip. He used his own force to spin her away to the right.

It looked flawless.

Anyone else, pushed away with the supposed force, would have tumbled to the platform.

But Cinder grasped at his lead, followed his cue, and allowed her body to spin full circle and swept her leg up.

Her aim was a little off, but Wolf’s lightning reflexes more than made up for it, so that his head was right in place when the top of her foot collided with the side of his it.

The platform shook when Wolf hit it and slid half way to the far side.

Cinder gaped at him, panting, the noise from the crowd slowly beginning to filter back into her consciousness. And above the noise, Scarlet’s terrified scream.

“Wolf!”

The referee hopped onto the stage and knelt beside Wolf’s body, checking for consciousness, before turning his stunned gaze to Cinder.

She stared back at him, first with nothing but her own mixture of shock and disbelief, and then worry.

She hadn’t actually hurt him, had she?

The man got to his feet and held up his arm to Cinder.

“Assassin wins!” he cried.

The crowd, stunned and quiet at first, soon grew into a ravenous crescendo.

No one had bet that much money on the fight, of course, everyone thinking it would be a landslide in Wolf’s favor. And so no one was too terrifically disappointed in the outcome. But everyone was thrilled that they had been there to witness the reigning champion defeated by a girl.

Cinder swiped at the film of sweat on her forehead, still looking down at Wolf, but he did not move.

But she could not go to him. It would be too suspicious.

So, stomach churning, she forced herself to turn away from him and flash a fake smile at the audience. She sought out Scarlet and Woods and found only Woods standing at the edge of the crowd, arms folded across his chest and attempting to look confident and suave and perfectly capable of seeing all the commotion that surrounded him.

Scarlet was not hard to spot—her cinnamon curls showed up like a firework amidst the dark and dirty crowd. She was hurrying through the crowd, shoving her way toward the stage.

She climbed onto the platform as Cinder descended. They did not make eye contact.

Trembling, Cinder hopped down into the midst of the thriving audience and made her way to Woods, but she was stopped by the bet collector.

Instant terror welled up inside of her, that he would recognize the spoof, that he would call them on their cheating.

But instead, he just nodded at her with utmost respect and admiration and handed her a stack of bills.

“Winner’s cut,” he said.

“Oh. Thanks,” she muttered, shoving the money into her pocket and hurrying past him.

“Captain, it’s me. Let’s get the hell out of here,” she said, grabbing Woods’s arm and dragging him toward the exit, praying that no one would make the connection between her and Woods and Scarlet and Wolf.

But no one had been paying her any attention prior to taking the stage. And no one had paid Woods any attention at all throughout the entire night.

“What’s going on?” Woods hissed at her, draping his arm over her shoulder to look like a proud, possessive boyfriend rather than a helpless invalid.

“Wolf’s unconscious,” she muttered back.

“Really unconscious or just pretend unconscious?”

“I don’t know. Scarlet’s with him. They’ll have to meet up with us,” she said, stealing a glance back as she pushed the door open for her and Woods.

Wolf was being carried off through the crowd on a stretcher, Scarlet at his side.

“Where do you think they take the injured ones?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Woods, “but Scarlet said she would meet us on the other side of the warehouse.”

Cinder nodded, her muscles tied into knots as she guided Woods out of the building and into the freezing, moonlit night. They walked slowly, Cinder trying to guide Woods as best as she could while her thoughts swam with terror and nerves.

But rounding the corner to the back of the warehouse, she froze.

“What? What is it?”

The relief was so strong that Cinder felt herself sagging against Woods for a change. “They’re already back here,” she breathed, beaming as Wolf and Scarlet spotted them and hurried toward them, their footsteps loud on the silent street. “Wolf! I didn’t… I’m so sorry!”

Wolf’s speed dropped to a walk and then a surprised pause.

“Sorry?” he asked, an amused grin spreading over his lips. “My dear Assassin, you don’t think you actually won that, do you?”

***


Minggu, 22 Januari 2017

Lunar Chronicles Deleted Scene #8


Hai, sudah baca berapa buku dari serial Lunar Chronicles?

Saya baru saja menyelesaikan buku yang pertama, Cinder, hehe.
Boleh baca reviewnya di post sebelum ini.

Terus, kemarin Marissa Meyer sudah mem-publish deleted scene #8.
Ada 2 scene di sini karena ceritanya pendek-pendek..

Well, let's enjoy the scene..

Ups.. SPOILER WARNING!!


***



From: Winter, 1st draft (or possibly the 2nd…)

Featuring: Scarlet, Thorne, Wolf

Helpful set-up: In the early drafts of Winter, there were a LOT of people getting captured and taken to the Lunar prison. In fact, one of the major revisions I had to do to the plot was trying to make it less repetitive with all those arrests!

So in this scene, Wolf has already been arrested (I don’t remember how/when), and now Thorne and Scarlet have been captured as well…

* * *

There was no sadness or worry or even fear as Scarlet stood between two Lunar guards in a dimly lit elevator descending down into the palace’s sublevels. There was only anger. Seething, boiling, simmering anger that had her face burning and every muscle ruthlessly taut.

Thorne, standing not two steps in front of her so that she could only see the side of his face, was holding in his emotions much better than she was. His expression was bordering on bored—complacent. He looked as though he expected to be taken on an afternoon stroll before being given milk and cookies and tucked into bed. Scarlet sucked in her irritation through her nose, almost envious at Thorne’s ability to appear so relaxed. It was certainly a gift.

The elevator doors opened. The thaumaturge walked out first into a cave lit only by a string of bare bulbs on the ceiling.

One of the guards jostled Thorne and he strode out of the lift with his shoulders back. Scarlet followed without hesitation, hoping it would keep them from touching her.

They followed the thaumaturge around a bend in the cavern, where another guard stood before a heavy iron door. He was already unbolting it at the thaumaturge’s urging.

“There are two open cells down on the right,” he muttered, disinterestedly, his eyes fixed on Thorne and then Scarlet as if ensuring these two new prisoners wouldn’t be causing him any trouble. Scarlet scowled right back before being shoved past him.

The prison was little more than a dank, dirty cave with rough black walls and unevenly spaced iron doors with tiny barred windows. There was an immediate fork after the heavy iron door and the thaumaturge led them to the right. In the distance down the hallway, Scarlet heard the clank of a door being opened and could see a second thaumaturge and two guards standing outside a far cell.

As she watched, a prisoner stepped out of the cell, his head hanging.

“The man will be here.” The thaumaturge gestured at a closed cell door without pausing. Thorne’s guards paused to open the door, blocking a coded pad with their backs. “And the girl, here,” said the thaumaturge, gesturing at the next cell door on the opposite side of the corridor.

But Scarlet ignored her—ignored Thorne and his guards and the jail cell that was about to become her home. Her gaze was transfixed on the prisoner who had just emerged down the hall, as a bundle of cleanly folded clothes was shoved into his arms.

“Wolf,” she whispered.

Thorne tensed, glancing back at her before following her gaze. His head lifted only momentarily as he spotted Wolf, just as he was pushed into his jail cell. He stumbled with the unexpected shove.

“Hey, gentle!” he cried, but his words were lost in the sudden clanging of the door.

At the sound of the door or the sound of Thorne’s voice, Wolf lifted his head for the first time. His eyes, even brighter when surrounded by dirt smudges and streaks of sweat, widened when they fell on her.

Scarlet’s heart ached and all the fury and strength left her in that one glimpse. She felt herself being nudged toward her own cell, but she barely sensed her feet on the floor or the guards’ hands on her back and shoulders. At the same time, Wolf was told to walk and he was coming toward her, and as he got closer she could see the budding misery and self-hatred in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since the last time she’d been trapped in a jail cell. When he’d chosen to help her escape. When he’d chosen her.

Her guard finished punching in the code and opened the door to her cell.

Wolf’s piercing gaze never left her. His knuckles were white as his fingers dug into the pile of clean clothes he’d been handed. He wasn’t a dozen steps away when Scarlet felt herself being shoved into her cell.

“No!” she screamed, her arm jutting out and blockading her way through the door. “Wolf!”

He dropped the clothes and sprang toward her all at once, his arms locking firmly around her waist. He pulled her toward him and crushed her lips in a kiss so violent she knew in an instant he believed it would be their last.

Her hands dug into his back, but he was already releasing her, yanking away so fast it left her spinning. “Scarlet—I love—”

In the next instant he raised one hand and shoved her so hard against her sternum that she fell backward, her shoulder scraping harsh against the stone wall as she stumbled back into the cell. She planted her feet, barely able to stay standing, but the wind left her at the force of the blow and she pressed her hand to her chest, struggling to breathe.

She blinked up at Wolf, at the horror and pain etched into every angle of his face, but it was his thaumaturge who spoke.

“There is to be no fraternizing with the other prisoners,” she said, as coolly as if she were commenting on the weather. “Pick up your uniform, and hope that you have not dirtied it, or you will be justly punished. Her Majesty is very peculiar about the appearance of her personal guards for the ceremony.”

Though Wolf’s eyes lingered on Scarlet, she could see them being ripped away from her involuntarily as he turned and stooped to gather up the fallen clothes, just as the heavy door to her cell slammed shut.




***



From: Winter, same draft

Featuring: Scarlet, Thorne, Cress

Helpful set-up: This took place a little later in the story, and Cress is now attempting to rescue Scarlet and Thorne. (This scene was later replaced with the scene in which Cress is trying to get into the palace’s broadcasting room, with Kai’s help.)

Also, instead of trying to send out the video of Levana, they were all focused on trying to get the plague antidote in order to save Winter.

* * *

The cave forked almost immediately and down each side Cress could see rows of heavy doors with small iron grates set high in each one. Her heart leaped when she noticed tiny coded pads also beside each door—the locks were coded. A flicker of hope stirred inside her.

Gulping, she stepped into the middle of the fork. “Thorne?” she whispered down the hall to the right. Then, “Scarlet? Wolf?”

Her tiny ringing voice carried away from here, echoing shrilly off the wall. She didn’t realize how frightened she was until she heard the quavering buried beneath her tone. “Captain?” She took three steps down the hall when she thought she heard Scarlet’s voice carrying back to her.

“Cress? Was that Cress?”

Hope crashing into her, she rushed ahead, whispering their names until she saw two hands wrap around a set of bars in one of the doors. “Cress?”

She nearly stumbled from relief. “Captain! Are you all right?”

His blue eyes met hers, shocked, through the bars. “How did you get down here?”

“Kai helped me.”

“Cress! Did you see Wolf?”

She spun around. Scarlet was in the cell down the way, her own hands gripping the bars.

“Wolf?”

“He was taken . . . they took him up to the palace for some reason. I don’t know why . . . an execution or . . .”

Cress shook her head. “The wedding ceremony is about to start. The queen can’t be doing executions right now.”

“Cress, can you get us out of here?”

She turned back, meeting Thorne’s intense blue eyes, before looking down at the coded panel. With a gulp, she sank down to her knees. “I think so, if I can get this panel off . . .” She tried to dig her nails into the gap between the code panel and the wall and cursed. “It’s soldered on.”

She glanced over at the panel by Scarlet’s door, but it was the same.

“All right,” she muttered, a bead of sweat slipping down her neck despite the chilly air. She turned back to the panel on Thorne’s door. “Maybe I can figure out the code. Let me think. Do you remember how many digits?”

“Cress, no,” said Thorne. “If you get it wrong it will almost certainly set off alarms.”

Gulping, she ran her shaking finger gently over the raised numbers, before squeezing her eyes shut. She rubbed her fingers over her wrists, almost able to feel long strands of thick hair tied around them like shackles. Her breathing started to quicken, her eyes blurring despite her attempts to focus.

“Just have to get the panel off,” she muttered, opening her eyes and again feeling around all the edges. “If Cinder were here . . . Cinder would figure out a way . . .”

“Cress. Look at me.”

She glanced up, only able to see Thorne’s long fingers wrapped around the bars. Standing, she arched on her tiptoes, grasping the bars to hold herself almost at his eye level.

His gaze was strong, but sad. “You need to get out of here.”

She shook her head, harshly. “No, I can do this.” She started to kneel again, but his stern voice stopped her.

“Cress, listen. You can’t be any good to us if they lock you up too.”

“But I just need a minute—”

“We don’t have a minute. Look.” One hand disappeared from the grate and Thorne’s eyes diverted. An almost-proud twinkle was in them when he met her gaze again and held up a small vial.

Cress gaped, her jaw dropping.

“I switched it out as soon as I found that tray, just in case. Put it somewhere safe.”

She took the vial gently as he passed it through the bars, her hands beginning to shake with their new precious cargo. “Captain . . .”

“Like maybe down the front of your dress?”

She blinked up at him, too nervous to be embarrassed, then down at her skin-tight dress that had no pockets. Biting her lower lip, she slipped the vial into her bosom as steaming tears began to fill her eyes again. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t leave you here.”

“Yes, you can.” Thorne’s eyes were soft, beautiful through the shadows the bars cast on his face.

Wrapping her hands around the grate, Cress pressed her forehead against the cool metal, wishing she could dissolve into the door.

“You are going to go back to the hospital,” said Thorne, his voice calm as a crater lake. “You are going to make sure Winter gets this antidote, and you are going to save the universe.”

“But—”

“That’s an order, Cress.”

She peered up at him, her vision blurry. “Captain . . .”

Thorne smiled, and the look didn’t seem forced or smug, merely encouraging. Stretching his fingers through the bars, he clipped a strand of her hair between them and brought it to his lips.

“You can do this, Cress. Besides, you’re the only person who ever takes me seriously when I give orders. Don’t let me down now.”

A distant clang would have gone ignored in Cress’s mind if Scarlet’s voice hadn’t intruded on her thoughts. “Someone’s coming. Cress—”

Thorne’s lips twitched, the first sign of worry, as he released the lock of her hair. “Good luck.”

Cress took in an unsteady breath and felt three heavy words weighing on her tongue, but they wouldn’t come out and somehow the idea that they could be the last word she ever said to him kept her silent. Then there were footsteps.

“Hurry,” Thorne said. “And whatever you do, don’t let them catch you.”

She dropped back from the grate and checked that the vial was secured between her breasts before, with a moment that clawed at her insides, she managed to tear her gaze away from Thorne and walk away.

She sniffed loudly, once, and wiped her dripping nose and eyes on her wrinkled cloak just as the prison guard came into view at the end of the hallway. He smirked when he saw her.

“I’ve obtained the information I needed,” she said, surprised to find her voice remarkably solid. “Thank you for your patience.”

Still grinning, he moved so that his body blocked the corridor leading to the exit. Cress froze.

“Perfect timing,” he said, his eyes swooping over her again. “I’ve just been relieved of duty.”

Her heart raced, the vial cold and heavy against her skin.

Cocking his head, the guard took a couple steps toward her—Cress mirrored each one with a nervous step back. “My emperor—”

“Is awfully busy right now.” He leered. “And as far as I know, he’s the only one who knows you’re down here.”

She gulped.

“Never seen a real shell before,” he continued. “Is it true that I can’t make you want me just by putting the thought in your head? Can’t make you hot and yearning with a few targeted emotions?” His eyes sparked. “Sounds like a fun challenge.”

“Stay away from me,” she hissed.

A chill crawled over her skin as his smile only grew.

“That’s not going to happen, little girl. Don’t you think you owe me for letting you come in here and get your emperor’s confidential information? Don’t think I was influenced by his pretty words as much as I was by your pretty face.”

Cress placed her hand against the wall to steady herself, afraid that her dizzying thoughts might lead to a fainting spell as the man crept closer.

He paused, his eyes swooping down her body once more, before in a blink—he lunged.

Cress slammed her eyes shut and yanked the gun out of her waist band. Pointed forward. Fired. The kickback slammed her against the wall, the gunshot ricocheting like fireworks in the tiny corridor. She heard the man cry out in pain and surprise.

She opened her eyes. Saw him staring at her with shock. And ran.

He was too stunned to stop her as she darted past him, pumping her arms and feeling the rush of adrenaline and the sweat tracing down her neck and forehead and the air blowing the hair from her brow as she ran.

She was already out of breath, more from fear than the sprint, as she raced up and pounded on the steel door.

The thought crashed into her that no one might be there. She might be locked in here with that man.

But the thought was short-lived as she heard the bolt being thrown back and the door opened. A surprised guard stared down at her. “What—I didn’t know anyone was in—”

Cress raised the gun, aiming the barrel between his eyes. His words fell silent.

“Put your hands up and step away from this door,” she ordered, feeling the fire of desperation boiling inside her.

The guard, to her disbelief, did as he was told, raising his hands by his ears and backing up into the dark, tiled chamber. Cress stayed close to the wall, her arm extended. She could tell the exact moment when the guard’s surprise wore off and his brain reminded him that he was a trained soldier. His fingers twitched, his eyes calculating the best way to disarm her.

Cress dropped the barrel and shot him in the shoulder. He roared.

She turned and bolted for the elevator and found it waiting at the dock.

“Stop!” His harsh voice rang out as she pounded on the button then re-aimed the gun, daring him to come closer as the doors shut her away.

***

Cinder - The Lunar Chronicles #1



Judul buku: Cinder (The Lunar Chronicle #1)
Pengarang: Marissa Meyer
Tahun terbit: 2012
Jumlah halaman: 395
ISBN : 978-1-4668-0011-3
Genre: Fantasi, science fiction, remaja

Aaaah... akhirnya selesai juga baca novel ini.. :3

Baiklah, ini adalah postingan pertama saya yang membahas tentang sebuah buku. Kayaknya boleh juga kalau aku bikin review buku-buku yang kubaca. At least, bisa buat catatan buat diri sendiri.

Oke, jadi buku yang saya baca ini berjudul "Cinder". Sudah terbitan beberapa tahun lalu hehe. Dan sudah tahu novel ini dari lumayan lama juga sebenarnya. Cuma, memang saya nih yang telat bacanya karena baru merasa tiba-tiba merasa pengen baca buku ini. Banyak yang bilang bagus. Hihi.
Kebetulan genre novel ini adalah science fiction, genre yang memang aku suka dari jaman kecil dulu jamannya film Spy Kids 😁

Saya mau komen dari cover bukunya dulu. Cover buku ini oke menurutku, simple, dengan warna black and red. Paduan warna yang saya suka. 
Tak jauh-jauh dari Cinderella yang identik dengan sepatu kacanya, cover buku ini menggambarkan kaki Cinder dalam heels merah, dengan sedikit transparansi yang menanmpakkan tulang-tulang logam dari kaki Cinder. Awalnya saya sendiri kurang ngeh, baru ketika membaca bagian "Cinder melepas kaki", hah? melepas kaki? Lalu saya melihat cover buku ini. Ooooh jadi ini "kaki" Cinder yang menjelaskan bahwa dia seorang cyborg.

Cinder ini lah tokoh utama dalam novel ini. Cinder seorang gadis yang pekerjaannya menjadi seorang mekanik robot, di New Beijing. "Ayah" yang mengadopsinya sudah meninggal, jadi ia ditinggalkan bersama ibu tiri juga dua saudara tiri. Cinder ini lah yang mesti bekerja cari uit.  
Judulnya aja "Cinder", jadi nggak heran kalau yang kepikiran pertama kali adalah tokoh Cinderella. 
Ada tokoh Pangeran, Pangeran Kai namanya. Ada pesta dansa juga yang gosipnya ajang Pangeran untuk mencari jodoh 😄

Jadi, garis besar cerita di Cinder mirip-mirip dikit lah sama cerita Cinderella.

Bedanya, kalau Cinderella itu manusia, Cinder ini adalah cyborg.

Selain itu, cerita ini jelas lebih kompleks. Dengan latar cerita dunia modern, dimana manusia hidup bersama cyborg dan android, tapi masih melibatkan makhluk mitos.
Setting kehidupan sebagai cyborg ini juga kali ya yang bikin penasaran, pengen baca selanjutnya, dan selanjutnya..  

Baru halaman awal-awal, sudah senyum-senyum bayangin ketika Cinder dan Pangeran bertemu pertama kali.. Apalagi waktu Cinder dikira seorang laki-laki sama Pangeran 😂😂 Secara, kerjanya jadi seorang mekanik...

By the way, mulai dari awal baca buku ini, banyak sekali pertanyaan-pertanyaan yang muncul di kepala. Cinder kan cyborg, emang bisa nanti nikah sama Pangeran Kai? Pangeran Kai tau nggak yah kalo Cinder itu  cyborg ? Hubungannya sama Lunar apa? Apa Lunar ini yang perannya sebagai "ibu peri" buat Cinder?

Pokoknya meskipun ketika awal-awal baca novel ini bakalan kebayang sama tokoh Cinderella, tapi eksekusi konflik sampai endingnya bener-bener bagus. Asli bikin tegang ketika sudah masuk konflik.
Cuma mungkin di bagian pesta dansanya ada hal-hal yang standar lah.. Saya pikir kedatangan Cinder ke pesta bakalan lebih mengagetkan dan mencengangkan. 

Memang nggak ada sih bagian Pangeran Kai jadi so sweet sama Cinder, apalagi bikin melting. Padahal itu bagian yang kutunggu-tunggu.. dan sampai sekarang pun aku masih bertanya-tanya bagaimana perasaan Pangeran Kai buat Cinder yang sebenarnya.
Dan yang bikin sedih itu waktu Pangeran Kai bilang ke Cinder: “You’re even more painful to look at than she is.”
*she ini maksudnya si Ratu jahat.
😢😢 
Hiks, You don't know Prince, you don't know the truth..

Overall, novel ini bagusss... indikatornya adalah, saya bisa baca novel ini cover to cover. This book keeps me interested. Dan endingnya.... sesuatuk banget. Lagi seru-serunya baca dan halamannya habis, bikin nggak sabar pengen baca novel berikutnya...

Wkwk penasaran kan yah.. 😄😄  Baca sendiri aja lebih seru 😀
Pokoknya ini novel menguji imajinasi dan membuat bertanya-tanya bagaimana cerita selanjutnya. 

Jadi dari 5 bintang, saya beri skor 4,7 deh.

Recommended buat dibaca :)

Well, Enjoy reading 😊

Senin, 16 Januari 2017

Lunar Chronicles Deleted Scene #7

Baik, sudah sampai scene #7..
Saya penasaran, bakal ada berapa scene yang mau dipublish sama Marissa Meyer.

Cuss aja yuk baca scene #7...

Oiya, as usual:

SPOILER WARNING

***



From: Winter, 1st draft

Featuring: Almost Everyone

Helpful set-up: This scene takes place immediately after Deleted Scene #6. Definitely read that one first!

Also, an interesting note about this scene – you’ll notice that I left notes for myself to describe Levana in a later draft. The reason is that, when I wrote this in 2011, I still didn’t know what she looked like under the glamour! In fact, I didn’t finally figure out Levana’s true appearance until I wrote Fairest nearly two years later.

* * *

Cress’s heart leaped when Captain Thorne’s voice filtered through the ship’s speakers, ordering the doctor to report to the pod dock immediately. Her knees gave out with relief and she sank onto a nearby crate, her immediate fear slipping away.

The captain was alive. He had returned.

But new fears quickly moved to take their place.

Who was in need of a doctor? What had happened on Luna?

Was Cinder gone, for good now?

She glanced at the screen on the wall, waiting to establish a direct-link with Cinder, but nothing had come through yet. Panic scratched at her lungs—what if she’d failed? What if the link didn’t work and they still wouldn’t learn anything new about the palace or capture video footage of the queen?

Moments later, steps thudded on the ladder leading down into the heart of the ship. Cress launched herself off the crate and stood, hands wrapping around themselves, until a head of red curls arose from the hatch.

Scarlet heaved herself out of the hatch and didn’t look at Cress as she darted into the medbay.

Cress stood, waiting, shuffling her feet. She could hear rummaging inside the medbay and was just taking a step forward when Scarlet returned with a pitcher of water and a first-aid box in her hands.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Is the captain all right?”

“Captain’s fine.” Scarlet tucked the box under her arm. “He brought the Lunar guard back with him though, and he’s . . . where’s the—doctor!”

Dr. Erland hobbled out of the corridor, fixing his hat atop his head.

“I’ve been summoned,” he said, his blue eyes taking in the supplies in Scarlet’s arms.

“Yes, good. Take this and pass it down to me.”

Scarlet handed the pitcher to the doctor before disappearing back down the shaft without another word. His lips wrinkled as if he wanted nothing to do with the crew that had gone against his wishes, but he didn’t argue when Scarlet asked him to hand down the pitcher.

“What can I do?” Cress said, dashing to the side of the hatch while Dr. Erland started to lower himself carefully, rung by rung.

Scarlet glanced up. “Any word from Cinder?”

Cress shook her head.

“Stay up there and wait for her.”

Cress heard the door to the dock open and soon, both Scarlet and Dr. Erland had disappeared, leaving her alone again on the ship’s main floor.

Heaving a thick breath, she rocked back on her heels.

The guard was hurt. They’d known he would be, but she couldn’t imagine what the queen had put him through.

And Cinder . . . what would she do to Cinder?

She stuck an end of hair in her mouth, sucking nervously while she paced back to her crate, and waited.

She could hear nothing from the dock. The ship felt almost deserted, filled only with the constant noise that went unnoticed after so much time spent aboard. The hum of the life support systems, the quiet crackling of halogen (?) lights, the steady engine beneath her feet.

Pulling her hair out from her mouth, she tucked it behind her ear, wondering why she hadn’t had the forethought to install cameras in the dock weeks ago. She could at least know what was happening down there.

Maybe she should comm down to the level, just to see, just to ask . . .

Just to pester.

Frowning, she pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them.

They were busy saving the life of another of Levana’s victims. She would just have to wait for news, and orders. She would just have to wait.

Hopping off the crate, she paced to the screen and checked that the D-COMM chip, the companion chip to Cinder’s link, was still in place and firmly installed. All seemed to be in place.

Blowing her hair out of her face, she swung back around and took four steps back toward the crate when a chime startled her.

She pivoted, her attention focusing back on the screen just fast enough to catch the flicker of words: Direct communication now connected to LinCinBMI.

A second later, the words were gone, replaced instead with a shaky image.

A live feed.

Cinder was in a large docking station, pristine and filled with clean lines and white walls. She was following behind a woman – DESCRIBE THE BACK OF LEVANA – and two guards marched at either side.

The point of view shifted, Cinder looking over her shoulder, and Cress could see two muscular men walking uncomfortably close, wearing the uniforms of Levana’s army.

A tingle rushed down Cress’s spine, terror gripping her even from thousands of miles away. Though she was safe, the idea of being surrounded by Lunars, captured, being led somewhere unknown, had her trembling, like watching a terrifying film.

One that Cinder was living.

The group on the screen reached an elevator bank and the woman turned, showing her face to Cinder’s internal camera for the first time.

DESCRIBE.

Cress didn’t recognize her, which was peculiar. She had memorized the faces of Levana’s thaumaturges and as many royal guards as she could, as well as the highest ranking Lunar diplomats and officials and nobles, all from studying Lunar news feeds, but this was a new face. Who could be so high-ranking that Levana would have them collect her most prized prisoner?

Someone who the other guards in the elevator would gather respectfully, protectively around?

Someone who would eye Cinder like a crazed, proud cat?

The ground suddenly fell out from Cress’s feet. She stumbled back, her hips colliding painfully with the corner of the crate behind her.

It was the queen.

The queen herself, claiming her prisoner.

Cress’s hands flew to her mouth.

Cinder had done it. She had captured video footage of the queen, without her veil to hide behind, and the queen had no idea.

The thoughts were already spinning in Cress’s head as she considered everything that could be done with this footage. She could have it on every screen on Earth before the end of the day. Levana would be mortified . . . and livid. The backlash of her anger would be unjustified.

And doing so would ruin the element of surprise they hoped to have when they broadcast their message to the people of Luna, encouraging them to rise up and rebel against the higher classes and their queen. If Levana knew that such a video existed, she would no doubt take swift measures to ensure it never made its way into any Lunar feeds.

Gulping, Cress tried to calm her rampaging heartbeat.

They had a plan. Cinder had already succeeded in her role, now it was up to Cress to make sure her sacrifice wasn’t wasted.

Letting out a slow breath, she followed Cinder’s progress out of the elevator and into a winding labyrinth of dark caves lined with cells. Her stomach twitched at the memory of being locked up, a prisoner in her own satellite, for nearly her entire life. And now Cinder was going to be kept in this nightmare.

She chewed her lip, wishing she would have had more time to install audio communication so she could tell Cinder to stay strong, that the video had come through, that she had succeeded, but all she could do was watch.

It occurred to her for the first time that perhaps she should tell the rest of the crew what was happening, that the D-COMM link worked, but she didn’t want to take her eyes from the screen for a second. Besides, they no doubt had their hands full helping the guard, and there was nothing anyone could do for Cinder up here.

They paused. One of the guards opened a cell door, leading into a cramped, shadowed cell, but rather than entering, Cinder turned her sight to another door just across the way.

Cress stared hard as they opened another door and dim light fell across a crumpled form.

It was impossible to make out, the screen almost entirely black, until the form moved. Whitish-blonde hair shifting into the almost-light. Cress came closer, her nose inches from the screen as she stared, waiting for the image to focus and make sense.

It was a person, so covered with dirt and blood he almost blended in to the filthy, rocky walls of his cell.

Then he looked up and his eyes caught in the light.

Cress gaped, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She could swear—he looked just like—

Did Sybil’s guard have a twin brother? Or had Cress been confused and this was not the guard they’d agreed to trade Cinder for after all?

Or . . .

Her gut clenched.

Or it was all a trap.


*


The air left Cinder in a rush, like someone had just hit her in the stomach. She teetered on her feet, but managed to lock her knees and steady herself before falling into the open cell.

The guard’s eyes widened as he looked up at her, shock and terror fixing to his gaunt face, but then he cringed as if the expression caused more pain than he could handle.

“Lovely,” said Queen Levana. “I see you recognize each other. I hope you’ll enjoy getting to know each other better during your short stay here. I must say I’m quite pleased with you both right now . . . for doing exactly as I expected you to.”

Cinder gulped, unable to pry her gaze away from the guard who lay broken and crumpled before her. “Who was the man you sent with Thorne?”

“My head thaumaturge.” The queen folded her hands in front of her. “He was quite convincing, wasn’t he?” She gestured that the guards should release Cinder and they did, leaving her feeling oddly abandoned in the middle of the dank cave.

Clenching her teeth, she met the queen’s haughty stare, hatred overflowing. The orange light was almost immediate when she focused on the queen, recognizing the illusion. She wished she could see beneath the glamour as easily as her retina recording device could, so she wouldn’t have to see those sickening red lips or onyx eyes ever again, but the queen’s true image had never been fully assimilated in her eye before, no matter how hard her brain interface attempted to see past the illusion.

The queen smiled and twisted her wrist toward Cinder’s empty jail cell. “Won’t you make yourself at home?” she said, her voice melting like chocolate.

Cinder felt her right leg twitch as if acting on its own accord. It took half a step toward her jail cell before she realized what it was doing.

Setting her jaw, she steeled her body against the tampering. A warning flashed in her gaze that she was experiencing bioelectrical interference—the failsafes in her brain managed to resist the queen’s attempts to force her to enter the cell against her will.

Rather than look surprised or irritated, the queen merely shrugged her slender shoulders. “As I thought. It seems we will have to execute you the old-fashioned way.”

Anger, more than fear, gurgled up from her stomach, making her limbs quake. She couldn’t stand to think what a fool she’d been to walk into this trap, to allow herself to be so easily fooled, and now not only had she walked right into Levana’s clutches, but she’d endangered her friends as well.

Her instincts told her to fight. One solid hit to the queen’s head with her metal fist could be all it took . . .

Before she could act on the idea, one of the soldiers grasped her elbow and half-shoved, half-threw her into the gaping jail cell. She hit the back wall with a grunt. By the time she’d spun around, the door had already been slammed shut, leaving only a small barred window a few inches above eye level.

“I am greatly looking forward to seeing you killed, again,” said the queen. “At first I’d planned on having you executed immediately and not bothering with you for any longer than I already have, but then it occurred to me that you may wish to stay alive long enough to see my wedding ceremony. In fact, I’m tempted to make you a special guest.” Cinder heard a cruel tinge in Levana’s voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must commence with my preparations. My guests will be arriving soon.”

A lock was turned and soon the shadows passed by the grate and booted footsteps echoed down the hall, dissolving into cold, eerie silence.

Cinder found herself frozen against the wall, already starting to shiver from the damp air. The stench was making her stomach heave, but she managed to keep from throwing up and forced herself to take steady breaths—the sooner her senses adjusted to the smell, the better.

When she was sure the queen and her entourage were gone, she opened the tip of her finger and let the tiny flashlight create a pale spotlight on the iron door. She flashed it around the cell, seeing years of words carved into the stone cave walls. A bowl filled with slop sat in the corner and she ignored it entirely, knowing that was where the stench was originating and not wanting to know or see any more than that.

Refocusing on the door, she knelt down and examined the space where she knew the lock was on the other side. Sliding her screwdriver out, she tried to wiggle it into the crack of the door, pushing and prying and scratching at the stone wall, but it was impenetrable and the door was too tight to the jamb to allow her to get any leeway against the bolt. The door’s hinges were on the outside.

Heart hammering, she stood to examine the small window with the grate. If she could somehow detach the bars and wriggle her arm out and maybe use the dart gun in her hand . . .

“How?”

She froze at the croaking voice, her hand wrapped around one of the bars. “Excuse me?”

“How did she get you?”

The guard’s voice was rough as if it had been used only for screams lately. She shivered and wished the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

“She . . . she offered a trade,” she said, her own stupidity encroaching on her thoughts again. “I thought she was going to spare your life, for mine.”

Something between a groan and a whimper seeped across the corridor. “Idiot.”

She bristled. “Look, it obviously didn’t work out how I’d planned, but I was trying to save your life!”

“Exactly.” His voice seemed to grow stronger as he tested it. “You traded your life for me, a nobody, when you—” She heard a hiss of pain and his angry words didn’t start up again.

Pressing her forehead against the bars, Cinder stared down at the circle of light her flashlight was casting around her boots. She huffed. “I’m a nobody too.”

“Don’t,” he said, his voice hollow. “I know who you are.”

“You think you know who I am, but I’m not her anymore.” She blew her hair off her face, frustrated with herself, with the plan, with everything. Her thoughts flew back to Thorne and the fake guard and she wondered if he’d gotten back to the ship yet. She hoped the crew would see through the glamour. She hoped they’d been watching the footage and would know instantly they were in trouble. She hoped they would realize her mistake before it was too late.

A thaumaturge was soon going to be aboard the Rampion, if he wasn’t already, and there was nothing she could do about it.

And it was all her fault.

Turning her back to the door, she slid down until her knees were pulled up to her chest.

“What do you suppose she meant by executing me the old-fashioned way?” she called over her shoulder.

“No magic or brainwashing,” came back the tired, irate reply. “Usually she has her thaumaturge force people to kill themselves, but with you it sounds like someone’s going to have to get their hands dirty.”

“I know that,” said Cinder. “But—how do you think she’ll do it?”

There was a hesitation, followed by another groan as she heard him changing positions in his cell. “Beheading?” he ventured.

She flinched and ran her fingers over her neck.

“Or drowning,” he said. “Stoning. Firing squad.”

“Thanks,” she said, “I think I got it.”

She bit her lip, realizing that this was the second jail cell she’d been trapped inside in the past two months. If she had just stayed in New Beijing, if she had just let Levana come and take her, this is where she would have ended up anyway. She still would have been executed. She still would die.

But instead she’d tried to run, she’d tried to fight—and all she got for it was a spaceship full of friends who she’d now be taking down with her.

“She’s going to win,” she whispered, half to herself, to see how the words would feel. Final. Hopeless. Inevitable. Gut tightening, she turned off the flashlight and buried her head against her knee.

In the quiet, in the darkness, she heard the guard’s tired voice.

“She won the moment you walked into her hands.”


*


Change: no plague given to Winter. He instead uses his gift to force her not to breathe, a la the corsette.

“Stop! Wait!” Cress screamed, bypassing the ladder and dropping down into the sublevel corridor with a grunt. She shoved herself off the wall, hurtling toward the open door of the podship dock.

She caught herself on the doorframe, gasping, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

Her eyes fell on him immediately, fear strangling her heart. He was laying on the floor beside the podship, half-supported by Princess Winter on one side and Dr. Erland on the other. His near-black eyes landed on her and sparked with surprise and the cruel recognition of a shell.

He could not have looked more different from the guard he was supposed to be. He had broader shoulders and dark brown skin and no hair on his head—and he was in perfect, healthy condition. Not a scratch, not a wound, not an ounce of blood, and yet it was clear that the doctor had spent the last ten minutes attempting to bandage invisible wounds.

Wetting her lips, she weakly pointed at the imposter. “Thaumaturge,” she breathed.

His lips twitched upward as the crew all turned to gape at Cress.

Captain Thorne reacted first, and almost had his gun out from its holster before he released a guttural shriek of pain and collapsed to the floor, shaking.

Cress screamed.

The doctor dropped his charge and fell backward, scrambling away. The princess tried to slink back, but the thaumaturge wrapped an arm firmly around her waist, securing her to his side.

Cress knew when he’d dropped his glamour because the eyes of her comrades suddenly widened, taking in the stranger in their midst, with his white embroidered coat and unnecessary bandages.

“Aimery.” Wolf said the name around a growl, placing himself between the thaumaturge and Scarlet.

Aimery grinned, his arm still tight around Winter. “Lieutenant Kesley. I thought you’d died honorably in battle, but I see I was mistaken. Ah—and the lovely Miss Benoit. I suppose I should have known.”

Thorne screamed again, thrashing on his back.

“Captain!” Cress threw herself at his side, protecting his head just before he slammed it into a metal cabinet.

“Cress, run!” Dr. Erland said, but his warning was drowned out by Scarlet’s shrill scream.

Glancing over her shoulder, Cress saw Scarlet backing up against a wall, staring at Wolf.

Wolf, hunched over, hands clawing at his hair, face contorted in barely restrained rage. Changing. Morphing. “Wolf! Stop it! Leave him alone!”

Scarlet rushed for Wolf and grasped his elbow, trying to pull his attention back toward her, when he spun on her. His hand whipped out, shoving her against the nose of the podship. She cried out in pain and slumped to the floor.

Cress gaped, her fingers idly digging into Thorne’s hair, mesmerized and terrified as Wolf’s back hunched, his fingernails lengthened, teeth morphed into sharp canines.

Warm hands suddenly wrapped around Cress’s throat.

Gasping, she looked down, catching the mortified look in the captain’s blue gaze, staring first at his own hands, then up at her.

Cress opened her lips to question, to scream, but the noise was locked off as the captian’s thumbs pressed into her windpipe. A strangled, panicked cry gurgled off her tongue and she tried to shove herself off him.

“Cress—I can’t—it’s not—”

“Stop it! Leave them alo—!” The princess’s words were cut short. When Cress glanced at her, she saw Winter clutching her head, swooning in agony.

Her throat ached, her lungs burned. She clawed at Thorne’s hands, desperately trying to pry the fingers away, but they were like iron around her. Her gaze fluttered helplessly around her companions. Princess Winter, still in the thaumaturge’s hold, gritting her teeth against a pain Cress couldn’t fathom. Dr. Erland not two paces away from her and the captain, staring in horror, but his eyes seemed the only part of him that was alive. The rest of his body appeared frozen in time as he watched his daughter strangled, within arm’s reach.

Scarlet seemed to be the only one not yet being manipulated by Aimery, and clearly he had no reason to bother with her yet. She was distracted enough, scrambling beneath the podship, trying to put distance between herself and Wolf as his transformation was nearly complete.

“What an uncivilized welcome,” said Aimery, smiling at the chaos he’d wrecked in so few moments. His dark eyes shimmered as he looked down at the weak princess in his hold. “And I even brought you a gift.”

A wave of dizziness passed over Cress. White lights flashed in her gaze. Burning tears seeped out of the corners of her eyes as her.

As she stared, fingernails gathering skin and blood as they desperately tried to fight of Thorne’s grip, the thaumaturge pulled a thin object from his sleeve. Uncapped it. Blackness threatened to seep into Cress’s thoughts just as she recognized what it was—a syringe.

The princess hardly seemed to notice, too distracted with the pain in her skull. It was clear she would have collapsed to the floor if it wasn’t for Aimery’s hold keeping her plastered to his side.

With a sickening grin, Aimery tilted the princess back and stuck the needle into the side of her neck.

A scream tore through her.

“Cress.” Thorne’s voice was weak, seeming to come to her over a mile instead of mere inches. “The cabinet—tools—”

As if angry that he would attempt to defy them, Thorne’s hands tightened on her throat. She instinctively sank her knee into his chest, trying to shove off of him, and he grunted with pain—but then his words shifted through the panic.

One hand still clawing weakly at his fingers, the other reached for the cabinet handle. Pulled. Rummaged blindly inside. Her fingers closed around something cold and long and heavy.

Her body itched to swipe it across Thorne’s head, but rationality fought the instinct. Looked up through the bright spots and threw.

A thump was followed by a cry of pain and Thorne’s hands dropped away from her.

The first breath sucked into her, stinging her throat. Cress clambered off the captain, throwing herself toward the back wall.

Aimery dropped the princess and she fell unconscious to the floor. Reaching up, he pressed two fingers to his skull. They came away glistening with blood. Then he looked down at the ten-inch wrench on the floor.

He dropped his control long enough for Dr. Erland to heave himself at Thorne and throw a punch to the captain’s jaw, before Thorne caught his fist and batted him away. With his free hand, the captain grabbed for his gun, ripped it from the holster, and tossed it at Cress’s feet.

No sooner had the gun left the captain’s grip than he slammed back against the cabinets, keeled over and clutched at his stomach.

Aimery turned toward her, his lips smiling though his gaze was harsh and furious. “You shells always cause so much trouble.”

Cress gulped. She still felt weak, her lungs struggling to take in the oxygen that had been missing. Her legs were trembling, barely able to support her, and all the while the gun at her feet called to her, its presence looming in her thoughts.

It was so close, but she couldn’t bring herself to take her gaze from the thaumaturge for one second. Her heart hammered. A drop of sweat dripped down her back.

A snarl sent a chill racing down Cress’s spine. Not animal, not human. From the corner of her eye she could see Wolf, but not Wolf, prowling toward her around the back of the podship. He lumbered with an awkward gait, half-crouched and ready to spring. At her.

She focused her attention on Aimery, her fingers itching for the gun, imagining the weight of it, the feel of it—though she’d never held one before [true?]. She imagined aiming. Pulling the trigger. Prepared her body, her fingers, her mind.

A drop of blood slipped down Aimery’s brow, arching down his temple.

A flash of cinnamon-red caught in Cress’s vision. Scarlet planted herself squarely between her and Wolf, arms outstretched, blockading her. “Cress! Now!”

Cress fell to her knees and snatched up the gun, feeling it warm and slick in her palm and for the briefest of moments she imagined she could do this.

Then Wolf roared and Cress remembered that she was the only one immune to the thaumaturge.

She had no allies.

As Wolf lunged, Scarlet’s feet sidestepped as smooth and graceful as a dancer.

Cress screamed as the force pushed her over onto her back, kicking the breath from her tortured lungs. She had enough time to see the fervent, cruel glint in Wolf’s emerald eyes, before he lowered his head and clamped his jaw around her upper arm. Her scream shrilled as fangs pierced her flesh, hot pain blinding her. Her fingers dropped the gun, her muscles and tendons helpless and burning.

The thaumaturge chuckled. She spotted him over Wolf’s shoulder, collected as he tucked his hands into the wide sleeves of his coat.

“The rest of these traitors may come in quite useful,” he said, smiling down at her, even as the world spun and she found herself again fighting to stay conscious. “But I’m afraid I have no use for you.”

Wolf pulled his head away and Cress screamed as she felt flesh ripping beneath his pinched jaws.

Gritting her teeth against the burning pain, Cress fumbled at Wolf’s waist with her free hand. Trembling fingers found his holster, blessedly, the handle of the gun still in it.

Towering over them on Wolf’s other side, Aimery didn’t notice until she’d pulled out the gun and aimed it for his chest.

As she felt claws rip into her abdomen, her shaking finger pulled the trigger.

The kickback from the shot threw the gun out of her hand, the ring of the blast echoing in her ears, her entire body throbbing and burning. That was the last she remembered.