Chapter Eighteen
The road to destruction can be smooth, worn by its many travelers, while the road to victory is fraught with opposition; trust me, and I’ll make a way through.
Shock rippled through the enclosure in a series of lightning strikes.
We stood frozen, all of us wide eyed, darting our focus from one face to the next, silently begging someone to tell us we’d misunderstood and didn’t really need to do what we were just ordered to do.
The order echoed in my skull, too surreal to grasp, too atrocious to obey.
This was Madness, plain and simple. The disease in action. CURED’s way. Astan’s way.
Did they hope to prove we’d do anything they commanded, no matter what, or did the reason go deeper?
If we did this, it would be cold-blooded assassination. The mass murder of innocents. I would not, under any circumstances, be part of that. Of course, I might die within the hour.
Whatever the consequences, remember? I jutted my chin and skimmed the weapons chosen by my foes.
A dagger. A whip. A sword. A spear. A harbinger.
A gun that released pain darts. A mini crossbow.
A triwhip. A handheld pritis cannon. A throwing star.
Plus things I didn’t recognize. I had the only netter, without an extra clip of ammo. Meaning, I had eight shots.
“No one strikes anyone else,” Roman announced, taking charge. Something he’d done since the beginning. “One at a time, we’ll state our accomplishments and qualifications, then allow others to ask questions. Anyone who attacks another before we conclude our discussion will die.”
It wasn’t a bad plan, but it failed to de-escalate tensions. On the contrary. The air crackled with anxiety as everyone backed away from everyone else, inadvertently forming a circle.
“No one needs to die,” I said, unwilling to hold my tongue.
“This has got to be another test.” Yes, yes.
A pop quiz, different than I’d originally assumed.
“Think about it. They’re eager to prove we’ve learned our lesson after the last go around.
Never act without certainty.” If we stuck together and refused to do this terrible thing, we had a chance.
I drove my idea home. “They wouldn’t have picked us for this special assignment if they wanted us dead.
Anyone who kills innocent people could be kicked out of the program. ”
Many muttered their agreement.
“You know what I hear? Someone who should be one of the five,” the girl who’d spoken for Lolli piped up.
The same soldiers who’d agreed with me now nodded in agreement with her. Icy fingers of dread crawled over me, threatening to steal my good sense.
“She’s sleeping with the guy most likely to become king,” Miller snapped. “She’s exempt from this.”
An attempt to help me?
“No one is exempt,” the same girl retorted.
Others muttered their agreement. I prepared to respond. Until I noticed shadows slinking into the room, spilling from cracks in the walls. Then I sealed my lips. The gloom split, creating multiple paths, gliding over to check us out. I fought to hide my horror, while no one else reacted.
Revulsion eroded my calm as an obsidian tendril slithered up my leg and back to sniff my nape. It recoiled from me and swooped to Lolli’s acolyte. It must have liked her scent better, because it nuzzled her. As it did so, it faded, as if being absorbed into her skin.
I shuddered. The same disappearing act happened to others as well, each shadow choosing a different soldier to . . . inhabit? No horn had blasted, at least. And no one displayed an outward sign of what had just happened.
“Look,” my accuser said, cocking her gun. “For those who don’t know, I’m Lady Dollop Atmans, cousin to High Princess Lolli, and the identity of your bed partners means nothing to me. I care only about results.”
Others nervously readied their weapons.
I forged ahead, anyway. “If cold-blooded murder is what you consider a good result, you aren’t someone I’m interested in following.”
“And now you insult Mr. Vyle and the emperor himself,” she spat.
“Both of you hush,” someone interjected. “It’s not cold-blooded murder if you’re protecting Ourland from a Soalian.” She trained the mini crossbow on Winslet. “And you’re a Soalian, I’m certain of it.”
“How dare you?” Winslet exclaimed. She backed up several steps and raised her hands. Considering she’d chosen the dagger, she currently had no defense. “Soalians killed my dad. I want them all dead.”
“Exactly what a Soalian trying to cover her tracks would say,” Dollop snapped, taking aim with her harbinger. “Fact is, you tried to recruit me last night.”
“That’s a lie!” Winslet gasped. “You asked me what I thought of all the glowers dying, and I said—”
Boom! Dollop pulled the trigger, a bullet flying. Winslet jerked, a ragged groan escaping. Her eyes rounded, and she dropped her dagger. Looking down, she pressed her hands over a blood-soaked shirt hole near her belly.
Shock blasted me. Shock blasted us all.
“You said it was a shame,” Dollop stated, as cold as ice. “Now be a good little Soalian and die.”
Winslet’s mouth opened and closed, crimson leaking from the corners of her lips. When her knees buckled, she fell, crashing into the floor. It happened so fast there wasn’t time to react or offer aid.
“Put her on the rack,” Dollop commanded.
In between pained, gasping breaths, Winslet attempted to crawl away. Two trainees advanced. “I said . . . it was . . . a shame because . . . they weren’t dying . . . faster.”
“Stop!” I shouted, moving to block them. “This isn’t right.”
They shoved me aside, clasped Winslet by her arms, and dragged her bleeding body to the rack, where they bound her wrists and ankles despite the severity of her injury. Weak as she was, she couldn’t fight her way free.
Right now, Winslet’s affiliation meant nothing to me. Rushing over, I sheathed the netter and removed my shirt. Cool air kissed newly exposed skin. Bra on display, I pressed the material against the other woman’s wound.
“You’re gonna be okay,” I muttered. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Dollop scowled at me and raised her gun, aiming at my heart. “Don’t worry, Roosa. You’re next.”
“Actually, you are.” The retort came from Roman, who punched her in the head. Her knees buckled, and she fell, slamming into cold stone. The weapon skidded from her grip.
She moaned and curled into herself as he collected the harbinger and aimed.
“You should have listened to me.” He fired, shooting her in the temple, ending her life.
Hot blood and brain matter splattered across the room, raining over my face, and I sucked air between my teeth. Get it off, get it off, get it off.
A dark shadow rose from her dead body, and my frenzied wiping ceased.
The being zipped around the room, going faster and faster until I couldn’t keep track.
But I felt the moment it rammed itself into me.
Cold froze my veins, and fear gobbled me whole.
I stood panting, my thoughts whirling as fast as the shadow.
I’m soon to be unmasked. Killed. A failure to Cyrus and to Soalians worldswide.
To Dom and to Ember, especially, who put their own lives on the line to save mine.
My mother will mourn and grieve my loss, inconsolable.
I’m going to die. The mantra played on repeat inside my mind, growing louder. Louder still.
“Obviously,” Roman stated matter-of-factly as I spiraled, “Lady Dollop blamed someone else to hide her own guilt. Otherwise, she would’ve taken the time to be certain.” He sheathed the extra weapon in the waist of his pants, but that didn’t make it—or him—any less of a hazard.
Anchor, Arden!
I frowned, looked around. Domino?
Going to die.
Anchor!
The two voices collided, and realization came. The fear. It was fueled by the shadow.
I held tightly to my bond with the librarian, fury rising and drowning out the fear. The mantra quieted, and out came the gloom, shooting from me as if I’d shoved it.
I ground my teeth. Tricky Astan. His essence had brought those awful feelings.
Roman worked to free Winslet, and no one dared stop him. As he eased the wounded woman to the floor, I followed her down, keeping the pressure on the wound. Her fallen dagger. It was right there, beside her arm.
Hiding my actions, I collected the weapon, preventing anyone else from using it.
“There’s a Soalian in this room, and it’s not Winslet,” Roman announced with confidence as he straightened. He took aim with Dollop’s gun. “It’s Miller.”
Miller jostled and stumbled backward, shaking his head. “Why would you say that?”
Nearly everyone else aimed at him too. I floundered for something, anything that removed suspicion from the soldier.
“You attempted to recruit me.” Roman lifted his nose in the air.
“Always asking me questions and dissecting my responses to find cracks in my allegiance to CURED. I turned you in, and Archduke Heta instructed me to keep tabs on you, which I did. I followed you in Bala City and caught you looking at the Rock.” He motioned to two soldiers.
“Put him on the rack. Let’s find out who’s working with him. ”
The pair converged on Miller, who fought to maintain his freedom, throwing punches while avoiding theirs.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. I couldn’t let them interrogate Miller. Not because he might implicate me, though he might. He could be the one Domino had prompted me to find.
“Do you hear yourself?” I shouted at Roman, doing my best not to jostle Winslet.
The room went still. Roman had aided me only moments ago.
Now, I returned the favor with honesty. “Nothing you’ve said makes him a traitor.
Roman, listen to me. Please. You’re making the same mistake as before, only worse. ”
“Restrain. Him.” He glared at the soldiers, and they resumed their fight against Miller.
“I’m cured,” the potential Soalian snarled after the pair trapped his arms behind his back. “That’s the truth, straight up.”