Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Finally, Miller twisted in his seat, facing forward, silent.
The royals boarded the bus, cleaned of blood. Unusually sharp determination filled Cyrus’s eyes. Though he knew better, he intended to come back here and either move Miller or escort me to the front.
With a shake of my head, I altered his plan. Don’t you dare single me out. Not here, not now. He paused abruptly, collected himself, then claimed the first available seat. High Princess Lolli took the seat across from his without glancing in my direction.
Interesting. Whatever he’d said to her on that dais had an impact. To my surprise, Miller didn’t comment on the obvious interaction.
A voice spilled from an intercom, silencing every conversation. “Buckle up. We’re going through some rough terrain, but we’ll stop for nothing.”
I obeyed as the bus drove up a winding ramp and exited the garage, entering Theirland. I peered out the window, unable to see through the gloom. None of us sported goggles, yet no one suffered from symptoms of RVM.
“The windows must be made of the same stuff as our lenses,” Roman observed, tapping the glass.
Well. No wonder I couldn’t see past the gloom. A fact I celebrated as we bumped along a path at full speed, eliciting telling thud after thud. We were either running over dead bodies or slamming into feeders.
The vehicle careened left, verging on the tipping point, and I could only hold on for dear life, my heart pounding. True to the driver’s word, we didn’t stop until we reached our destination.
The royals disembarked first, but trainees weren’t far behind them. I gawked as I emerged into a wonderland. A clear dome covered a well-lit lawn and glinted off a rippling moat, extending over the emperor’s palace. A home designed in dreams and fairy tales—and forged in nightmares. It was massive, made of glittering crystals edged with gold, but countless shadows danced around the highest points. They all had eyes. Icy fingers of dread skittered over my spine. Madness, Madness, all around.
Just in case non-Soalians shouldn’t notice the shadows, I resumed my examination. Lush plants grew in abundance, as heavy with fruit as those in the Library of Soal. The water gleamed with an ominous pinkish tint as ripples spread over the surface. Something big must be swimming beneath.
I had no problem seeing the world beyond the dome’s transparent, shimmering veil. A field of dry briars and parasitic weeds, with feeders wandering aimlessly, their heads bowed and their shoulders stooped. Even the worms on their scalps hung limp. Why so lifeless?
“This way.” Mr. Vyle ushered us along a long gold-brick bridge dotted with statues of various dragon-type creatures, their eyes studded in rubies. I knew of only one dragon, Bala, Astan’s beloved pet, but I should’ve guessed there were others.
I bit the inside of my cheek. Did they awaken too?
Mr. Vyle reached out to trace a crack in the calf of a statue of Astan. A reverent, affectionate brush that set my nerves on edge.
The beginning of the end.
A countdown kicked off, seconds vanishing, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Tick tock. Tick tock.
The blood in my veins chilled, yet perspiration dotted my hands. I zoomed my gaze to Cyrus. His head was lifted high, his shoulders back, and his stride confident.
We stand in a stalemate, the battlefield between us a nightmare of lifeless bodies and scattered limbs bathed in the unflinching light of Theirland’s twin suns. Lavender and gold streak the sky, casting an eerie glow over the blood-soaked earth, where rivers of crimson carve fresh paths through the flatland. Overhead, a restless flock of scavenger birds circles, their shrill cries piercing the thick, heavy silence as they await their feast.
A fresh wave of CURED soldiers floods in, surging from behind the former high prince and hurrying to kill the array of glowers trapped around me. Men and women I admire. Many more will die today if I don’t stop Cyrus.
Tension invaded my bones. I now recognized the battlefield of the coming battle—the same one we’d fought on before, where the Rock grew. Were we one step closer to war?
As our group approached an open glass foyer inside the palace, I wanted to run. But I didn’t. I was strong. Capable. I could face this challenge head-on or hide, but I couldn’t do both, and only one choice offered a path to victory.
Domino appeared out of thin air, walking beside me. “I’m working behind the scenes,” he vowed. “Know that. You will never be without my aid.”
I took his words to heart, grateful for his encouragement.
We entered a spacious ballroom with ornate white columns stretching toward a vaulted ceiling adorned with intricate gold filigree. More statues along the walls depicted some of the same gods I’d noticed in Bala City, their stone faces frozen in expressions of silent judgment. At the far end of the chamber, a royal dais loomed, its steps polished to a mirror sheen, leading up to a single throne made of interwoven horns, most of them jagged, as if they’d been torn from their owners in battle. The air itself trembled with frantic energy. A hum ignited beneath my skin, setting my nerves on edge.