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)
Tensions rose in an instant.
“You will take care of the problem however you deem best.” He adjusted the lapels of his jacket, merciless. “But rest assured, no one leaves this room until five of you are dead.”
With a pointed glance at me, he strode from the room. The door closed behind him, sealing us in.
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.
—The Book of Soal 1.19.118.8
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.”