I reach her bedside and drop to my knees. In the semidarkness, it’s hard to see if she’s breathing, and I don’t want to stick my fingers under her nose to feel for warmth.
“Gemini!”
She flinches.
Relief loosens the tension in my muscles, and all the breath leaves my lungs in a single exhale. “I thought something had happened to you.”
She sits up. “I couldn’t go back to that show after speaking to my dad.”
“How is he?” I ask.
“In a tiny cell somewhere. When they’re not forcing him to program, they’re making him watch me suffer through the Princess Trials.” Her shoulders shake. “They got that Ingrid girl to whip me on camera as a punishment for his treachery.”
My nostrils flare. “What?”
Gemini’s face crumples. “I don’t know how much either of us can take.”
Tears fill my eyes. I’ve been whipped, but that’s because I got caught attacking guards harassing Harvester girls. Each stinging lash was something I endured, knowing that I had saved an innocent from a terrible fate. Those punishments were my redemption for letting Mr. Wintergreen die.
Gemini’s situation is beyond twisted, and I’m glad that Prince Kevon is going to help.
The smaller girl wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I think they’re going to kill him when he finishes his project.”
A question falls to my lips, and before I can stop, I ask, “What are they making him do?”
She shakes her head and raises her right arm into the light.
I nod. If a tiny ear cuff can make recordings and send messages, the monitor attached to our wrists can do the same or more. I raise myself off the floor and wrap an arm around her thin shoulders.
“Have faith.” I make my words vague enough for whoever is listening to our conversation. “You never know who is watching you from above and wants to help.”
Gemini exhales a frustrated breath. She probably thinks I’m talking about Gaia. If there were such a thing as an earth goddess, she wouldn’t allow so many people to suffer.
My words of comfort dry out, and we sit together in the dark and silent room. Gemini rests her head on my shoulder and sighs. I dip my head, and my mind drifts to Prince Kevon.
Hopefully, he’s with Garrett or somebody who will be compassionate about his loss. I never trusted Queen Damascena and Lady Circi, and I trust them even less after seeing that doctored footage.
An hour later, the door opens, flooding the room with light from the hallway, and Berta stomps inside.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Prunella sent us to bed with no dinner.”
“Why?”
She slams the door and switches on the light, making me wince, then walks to her bed and kicks off her boots. “Broadleaf wasn’t happy with everyone’s performance today.”
“Did something happen at the garden party?” I ask.
Berta reaches down to the trunk and pulls out a nightgown. “You know how she reminded everyone you were the bucking bronco?”
My stomach tightens. “Yes?”
“She wants to see more action against us.”
I clench my teeth. “Why?”
“She didn’t say.” Berta walks to the bathroom and shuts the door.
“It’s because of me,” Gemini whispers.
I draw back. “What?”
A hiss fills the air, and white smoke rises from the floor. It burns my sinuses and makes my eyes sting. I scramble off the bed and rush across the room to the door, but the handle is stuck.
“What on earth is that?” I shout.
Another door bangs open, making me jolt. Berta staggers out of the bathroom in a cloud of smoke, her eyes red and swollen. “Cepa gas.” She doubles over and coughs. “But I don’t understand. Guards only use it to flush out rebels.”
Chapter 21
I stand with my back to the door and survey the room. Clouds of white gas reach waist-level, and I can no longer see the beds or trunks. Wheezing breaths force their way in and out of lungs that tighten with every passing second.
Berta slams the bathroom door shut, but that does nothing to stop clouds from rising. Gemini stands on her bed with both hands over her eyes.
My heart pounds at double speed, and my adrenaline spikes. It’s too late to plug up the ventilation holes. They are close to the floor, and I can’t dive into the gas to find them. If this is a practical joke, I’m not laughing.
I rush to the window and twist the lever, but it won’t budge. The stinging of my eyes feels like I’ve cut a hundred onions. A pricking sensation attacks my corneas, and my eyelids swell.
“Don’t be stupid,” Berta snaps from the door. She pulls on the handle but can’t get it open. “We need to evacuate this room now.”
“Kick the door down then,” I shout at her. “It’s stuck, and so is the window.”
“Damn it!” Berta is a blur of white against black amid the white clouds. She backs away from the door and rushes at it with a bang. A moment later, she doubles over and coughs.
A dull thud indicates that Gemini has lost consciousness. Clutching at my throat, I rush toward her bed. My mind flashes to the night before when Rafaela’s body landed on Prince Kevon’s bumper, and a shard of terror pierces my heart.
I hold my breath, dive into the clouds, grab Gemini’s arms, and yank her to her feet. Until now, I never understood the term dead weight, but her unmoving, uncooperative limbs make her heavy for her thin frame. When we resurface, the gas reaches my shoulder, and I inhale tainted air.
“Stay awake.” I give Gemini a hard shake.
The smaller girl steadies herself. “Zea—”
Berta rushes past, knocking me aside. My vision is too blurred to see what she’s doing, but something hard bounces on the window.
“Plasti-glass,” she snarls. “We’re trapped!”
The door slams open. Fresh air and light from the hallway flood the room, along with dark figures, who rush inside with a clomp of boots on wood.
I release Gemini, widen my stance, and clench my fists, but the intruders stay
