Chapter Eight
Every path Astan offers ends in destruction.
“Time to go.”
Domino’s voice penetrated my haze of concentration, yanking me kicking and screaming from my study.
I had yet to decipher another word, much less a second passage. Just need to try harder.
“Arden!”
Jolting, I clutched the tome close and met the librarian’s determined gaze. “I’m not going anywhere, Dom. Astan targets Cyrus, and at some point, we fight, which means he might say yes to possession, so I need to read more and find a way to stop it. Okay? Okay.” Had I really called him Dom?
Domino plucked the book from my intractable clasp with humiliating ease. “Fear impedes your ability to decode. You know this.”
Ha! “The joke’s on you, because I don’t know anything anymore. Maybe the battle is pretend. A trick meant to confuse Astan. That’s possible, right?”
“If you don’t exit the library now, you will miss the final train back to the base.”
“But—”
“You can argue with me, or you can return to Cyrus. You cannot do both.”
Return to Cyrus. Yes. Purpose rampaged through my veins, and I popped to my feet. “Let’s go.” I would warn him of the god’s plan, and he would mount an unbeatable defense. Because Cyrus wanted nothing to do with Astan; he’d already chosen Soal.
Guess I did know something, after all.
Domino led me through a maze of hallways scattered with private reading nooks. “Remember there’s always a path to victory, no matter what you read. The answer is here, and we’ll find it.”
Great. Wonderful. “I’m not sure I can trust you with this particular mission. Your dislike of Cyrus clouds your judgment.”
“I told you, I don’t dislike him. And it wouldn’t matter if I did. He’s one of us. I’m willing to die to protect him, just as I’m willing to die for you.”
His ferocity turned his words into a vow. As he steered me forward, I was struck anew by his quiet strength. If he was even half as loyal as he seemed, he might just be the friend I’d been searching for—someone worth trusting, after all. “Thank you, Domino,” I said softly.
“There’s no need to thank me for—”
“Doing your job. I know. But it’s your choice to do it with honor and kindness, and I appreciate that.”
His gaze cut to me for a split second, like he was trying to determine if I was a figment of his imagination.
“I call that look the Arden Effect,” I bragged, earning another of those maybe smiles.
We cut through different exhibits featuring holographic displays of phenomena from around the world, throughout history.
He stopped in front of a particular wall with no decorations.
The stone—Tsuri—thinned, allowing me to see Ourland beyond it.
Bala City, to be exact. Citizens went about their evening, unaware they were being watched from within the Rock as well as outside it.
“I’ll count down the seconds,” Domino said.
“You will simply walk out of this room and keep going without pause. I have a hologram of you strolling along a path to this location. That image will vanish as soon as you make contact. You are safe.” He pointed to someone approaching the sidewalk in front of our section of the Rock.
I gasped. Me. It was me. I wore the same pink tank and shorts, my hair braided.
No time to process anything.
“Five. Four. Three. Two.” He gave me a gentle shove, his touch warm and firm, and I stumbled outside.
The hologram walked into me, disappearing for good, igniting a tingling whoosh all over my body. As instructed, I kept moving, awed. I didn’t let myself look back at the Rock as I headed toward the train station.
I descended the steps and joined a growing crowd on the dock. Though I had to force my way through, I made it inside a cart and whisked back to the base, where I holed up in my cell to unpack what I’d learned in the library.
Cyrus. In danger. Perhaps my enemy.
The doom I’d buried overwhelmed my memory garden, as if its roots had invaded every section. It had always pointed to this, hadn’t it? Astan might choose Cyrus as his host . . . and Cyrus might say yes.
When was this supposed to happen? And what about the war itself? Finally, I’d learned the truth about what had spurred it, but so many questions remained. At the top of the list: All this for jealousy? Seriously?
What was Astan’s goal, anyway? He must want more than just the destruction of the Rock.
Quaking, I shot the high prince a message.
I need to speak with you ASAP.
I awaited his reply, hoping he’d come visit me. Minutes ticked by. An hour. Curfew arrived, and I was sealed inside my cell.
I tossed and turned all night.
The next morning, I checked my reader, but there was no response. Looked like I’d have to go about my day as if nothing was wrong.
My guards followed as I stomped from my cell. They even accompanied me inside the locker room. “Hey,” I snapped and shooed them off. “Go.”
“We have new orders from High Prince Cyrus,” one said. “Stay with you at all times, no matter where you go or who you’re with.”
Defiant, I tugged on my fatigues. Orders from Cyrus, not the emperor or Mr. Vyle? But why? Confusion set in, and I steeped in it.
Winslet stomped over. “I lost you in the crowd yesterday.”
“Yeah,” I said with a wince. “Apologies. It was packed in there.”
She leaned against a cubby and crossed her arms. “What did you end up doing?”
“This and that.” What else could I say without lying? I sat on the bench and tied my boots. “How about you?”
“Same. Look,” she said, plopping beside me. “If you don’t want to be friends, just say so. You’re dating a high prince, and I’m a nobody. I get it.” Resentment replaced her tinge of anger.
An urge to soothe bloomed from a seed of guilt.
At the same time, part of me wondered if she purposely sought to rouse such an emotion.
She might be a CURED spy . . . or the Soalian I searched for.
“I’ll pretend you didn’t just insult me.
You don’t know me, and I don’t know you, so let’s pair up and change that. ”
“Fine,” she replied, as if she didn’t care, but I noted the glint of satisfaction in her eyes.
We spent the day tied together by the chain I despised, but I admit, I enjoyed her more every hour. Her quick wit kept my mind off my problems and grounded me in the moment.
Was she the Soalian or not? And if not, how could I recruit her?
“You know Roman better than anyone,” she said at the end of the day as we changed in the locker room, readying for our free time.
Well, she changed, uncaring that my guard stood in the doorway.
I just removed my fatigues, leaving me clad in the pj’s I hadn’t shed this morning.
“You got any tips for snagging his attention?”
Oooh. Was he responsible for her sudden interest in hanging out with me? “I don’t know him well. Just well enough to understand a girl only needs to keep breathing for a shot. He likes variety.”
She snorted and finished up. “Yeah. That tracks. Anyway, you should come to the commons for once. We always have fun.”
“Maybe one day,” I hedged. Just not today. I bid her goodbye and hustled to my cell to check my special reader.
Grrr! Still no response from Cyrus.
Nor was there a message the next morning.
Or the next. Thanks to my guards, I couldn’t sneak off to hunt him down and demand an answer face-to-face.
My optimism plummeted, which soured my mood.
Though I held my piece of the Rock close each night, while alone in my cell, Domino never appeared either.
A sense of abandonment spiced my growing dismay, creating a toxic brew of anxiety. Perhaps a little anger too. Had I been forgotten? Was I unwanted?
What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to warn Cyrus about Astan if I couldn’t speak to him?
Finally, on the morning I was to travel to Theirland, I received a response.
I’ll make arrangements.
Relief and anticipation pummeled my other emotions. I expected a summons at any second. Before I reached transport, at the very least. Except, I never made it to transport.
“No need for a chain or partner today,” Roman called. “Report to classroom three.”
Questions sprinkled the air, all revolving around why.
“I don’t know,” he groused. “I just know what I was commanded to tell you.”
Everyone switched direction. We made our way to the appropriate classroom, where we each claimed a seat. I waited, hoping against hope this had something to do with my meeting with Cyrus.
Before long, Heta strode into the room and announced, “You’re not going to Theirland today. You’re not ready. Instead, you’re taking a surprise field trip to Bala City. Line up at the door and follow the baron to the bus.”
Curiosity and dread colored the expression of my fellow trainees.
No one protested, though. We jumped to our feet and hustled out the door.
Roman and Merlot took the lead, the cast on her wrist not disqualifying her from service, while Winslet and Miller flanked me, and my guards remained glued to my heels.
In a lobby, we neared a group of royals, and I spotted Cyrus. Relief, so much relief.
Except, he stood off to the side with High Princess Lolli, who laughed at something he said. The exes looked so comfortable together, especially when she angled her body closer to his and whispered.
He didn’t welcome the action, but he didn’t protest it either. I huffed. I’d been a mess of emotions, concerned for his safety, not to mention our future, and he’d spent the time hobnobbing with a former flame?
Okay, so, I knew Cyrus, and my trust in him was absolute. He wasn’t a liar or a cheater. He’d said he wished to be with me, and only me; therefore he wished to be with me, and only me. If ever he changed his mind, he’d tell me. He wouldn’t string me along. He wasn’t a coward.
What’s more, he wouldn’t pretend to desire someone, even to recruit her to our side. His stalwart integrity wouldn’t allow him to cross a line, destroying our relationship right from the start. But then, he might not be himself right now.