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)
I needed to think, but I also needed to breathe, and breathing was becoming more and more difficult. In, out. In. Why couldn’t I breathe in? Lowering into a crouch, I ducked my head.
“Take five, Arden.” Roman’s directive penetrated the panic.
Yes, yes. Five. This would probably cost me the top-soldier title, but I didn’t care. I seized the chance to watch the camera feed. To see everything was fine. I would calm and come up with a plan to retrieve the camera.
Oh, dang! The camera. Retrieval. A step I hadn’t considered.
I launched from the room, certain of only one thing. My life had been forever altered by my actions today.
In the locker room, I sealed myself inside a shower stall. Inhale, exhale. In. Out. Okay, I could breathe. In, out. In, out. Maybe there was a chance what I’d done wasn’t such a big deal. I mean, if the pritis mines were on the up-and-up, no one should care that I’d seen inside one.
Fighting tremors, I adhered the tiny transmitters behind my ears. Inhale. Exhale. I pressed the correct button inside the case and started playback. Suddenly, the gray stall walls vanished, superseded by the camera feed. The building that housed the mine formed around me. Sweet goodness, it was as if I had become the mine cart, watching myself glide along the track.
I saw Roman marching on the dais with his gun at the ready. Spread out around him were other teammates in the process of assuming new positions. I continued moving, exiting the room through a tunnel door. The world blackened, all light snuffed out, and I pressed my hands over my mouth to silence a spontaneous protest. I could see nothing.
A high-pitch squeak sounded, and I jumped. But no big deal. It was just the cart’s wheel. I increased the speed of the feed, swallowing a whimper of relief when the cart cleared the tunnel. Light flooded in. Too bright! I flinched, pressing into cool tile. The feed glided forward, an unnerving sensation made worse as I logged my new surroundings. A room with two workers. An oil-smeared mechanic and a tech girl.
“Check the front right wheel,” she called.
“Got it,” he said, hustling over with tools.
The closer he came to the camera, the stiffer I grew. Yes, the transparent disk was designed to be invisible, but come on. He worked on the wheel with his face directly in front of the camera lens.
I didn’t expel my breath until he called “Good to go” and jogged off. Then the cart was rolling on. No one checked for pritis. The cover was never removed, a load never dumped before the cart returned the way it had come, going through the dark tunnel and into the mine.
Again I increased the speed. Finally, the cart reached the heart of the mine. Rocky walls supported by beams. No workers labored nearby, despite the soundtrack of clanking metal. The dimly lit, winding path led to a dead end.
Hmm. There wasn’t even mining equipment. No tools of any kind. The place looked abandoned, as if it had dried out. But that presented a new mystery. There was no reason to pretend to mine pritis. No reason to guard the mines at all.
I was missing a lot of facts, the puzzle growing murkier, and I had no idea what to do next.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Those who refuse the truth will die with Cured.
—The Book of Soal 1.19.37.9
Guard duty ended in greater disappointment. The cart never reemerged, so I never retrieved the camera. But panic didn’t get the better of me again. I carried too much anger. I wanted, needed straight answers about something, anything, but no one was willing to give them.
Dragging my feet, I made my way to the apartment I now shared with Cyrus. Maybe I’d tell him what I’d done and give him a chance to prove he intended to clean up my messes.
At the first security checkpoint, a viscount said, “You need to come with me, Lady Roosa.”
I forgot how to breathe. “No, thank you.”
“I wasn’t asking,” he repeated, holding my stare. Clearly, he’d mastered the art of intimidation.
My bravado cracked. Cured must have learned of the transmitter. “I’m due to meet High Prince Dolion for a secret project I’m not allowed to discuss.”
“This has priority. King Dolion has requested a meeting.”
“I see.” Breathe! “Did he say why?”
The viscount simply blinked at me.
I’d take that as a no. “I’ll just contact the HP and inform him of my tardiness. You know how Dolions can be when they’re kept waiting. People lose their jobs.” Cyrus might not be aware his father had summoned me.
“He’ll be contacted on your behalf and informed of the delay. This way.” The viscount marched down the hall.
I trudged after him. We navigated different hallways, took two elevators, and descended a flight of stairs, then entered an elaborate underground catacomb with walls comprising the same gemstones that decorated the statues aboveground. A set of towering arched doors blocked our entrance into, what was this place? The ragged ends of my nerves frayed further.