Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
But what if I wasn’t?
“Negative,” he said before I could work up another panic.
Thank goodness.
He tossed the kit into a biohazard bin, leaned against the gurney, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Start talking.”
I’m brave. “I was issued an invitation to the Tome Society,” I admitted before I convinced myself to keep quiet. There. It was done. The truth was out, and there was no erasing it.
“I see.” His expression gave nothing away. “Who issued the invite?”
“A woman I met in the city.” I refused to name her. No matter what. I wouldn’t put Shiloh through that.
“I see,” Cyrus repeated with a hint of resolve. Thankfully, he didn’t ask me for her identity. “What do you know of the Tome Society?”
“Only that it’s a secret society of Soalians, which I now understand to be glowers, and they claim the Rock is a doorway to a library filled with books written about the future.”
“Allow me to fill in some gaps. Tome Society members believe the marks carved into the Rock are keys to opening doorways within the library, which is the lone entrance into a third realm. A utopia free of Madness known as Shaddai, ruled by the god Soal. The books you mentioned were written by Soal, and they include the past and present as well as the future, telling the stories of every individual ever born. One set reveals the life we’re supposed to live and the other shows the life we choose.”
So much to unpack. A third realm. A utopia, no less. Two possible futures for every person. I chewed on my bottom lip. “Do you believe the Soalians?” The way he’d spoken suggested he’d shared facts, not fiction.
“Do you?” he asked.
A nonanswer. I ejected from the bed, landing on my feet. “Is Soal real at least?” We’d start there. “Yes or no.”
“Yes,” he replied, astounding me.
Wait. “Are you serious?” Even Archduke Heta denied the possibility.
“I’ve had . . . dealings.” Cyrus said no more about that, leaving me floundering. “How did you respond to the invitation?”
I disregarded his question, too busy floundering. “But I was taught . . . Cured says . . . Do others believe?”
“Those with clearance, yes.”
I fluttered a hand to my throat, where my pulse thumped. An actual god, real and not imaginary. Hidden from the masses for reasons I couldn’t fathom. “I’m a lowly lady-in-training. I have no clearance.”
“You aren’t a lowly anything, but you do have clearance, considering I just gave it.”
But. A god. “What kind of dealings did you have? What’s he like? What constitutes a god? Why keep him secret? Is there really a library with books about us?” As I spoke, anger and betrayal frothed deep, deep inside me. All my life, I’d defended a lie. Unless I’d misunderstood what Cyrus meant by “dealings.” A total possibility. For all I knew, Soal was a computer. Or a tree. A talking worm. Something!
“He’s kept secret because questions spur curiosity and curiosity spurs trouble. How did you respond to the invitation?” Cyrus repeated.
Frustration joined my internal party, clawing at my calm. I needed to know more about Soal. “Were you maddened? Is that how you met him?”
“The invitation, Arden.”
The hardness of his tone told me I’d get no more answers. Fine. As I’d done thousands of times throughout my life, I dumped my emotions into the cauldron, sealed the lid, and forged ahead. “I declined, of course.”
“But you can’t stop thinking about what the Soalian said.” Rather than chastise me, he nodded. “Sometimes the enemy can make sense. It’s up to us to discern what’s accurate and what isn’t.”
I waited for him to say more. He didn’t.
“That’s your only response to my bombshell?” I demanded.
“Yes. Wear the transmitters in Theirland,” he said, changing the subject. “They’ll remain in place until you pull them off.”
“Won’t you get tired of being linked to me?” Of knowing every time my heartbeat sped up?
“No.” He offered the barest glimpse of his rare half smile. “I don’t think I will.”
Tendrils of something sharp but sweet tormented me oh, so good, and my heart rate sped up. He gave a rusty chuckle, proving he’d clocked it.
“I definitely won’t,” he said.
I didn’t know what to say or do; he was just so adorable right now, and it was confusing. I decided to change the subject. “Tell me what I need to do to get my mother moved to Bala City. She’s a hard worker, I promise. So dedicated! She loves children, and she’ll be an asset to whoever hires her.”
He shook his head. “Trust me when I say she’s better off where she is.”
“But—”
A door banged shut, and we went quiet. Archduke Heta and Duchess Mimidae entered the chamber with three soldiers trailing them. The guy who usually followed the archduke around, a young woman I’d seen in the halls, and Roman. The team leaders.