Page 25 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)

“Yes. You are.” Static crackled over our connection, as if he were on the move. “Prepare for travel and meet me at Transport One in ten minutes. And Arden? Do not remove the transmitters.”

Had he forgotten I was chained? “What are we going to do?”

No response. I tapped the disks behind my ears. “Hello? Cyrus?”

Still nothing. A second later, the padded shackle around my wrist fell off and the door to my cell opened. I blinked rapidly. Wow. Okay. He’d been serious.

“What even is my life right now?” I muttered, pounding my fist into my mattress.

“Judging by the one-sided conversation I just overheard,” Mykal said, snickering, “I’m guessing you’re in a hurry to see the HP. Excuse me. Cyrus. Promise me you’ll spill everything when you return, or I’ll revolt.”

“I promise. Maybe,” I grumbled, earning more giggles from her. “I better go.” Time was ticking.

My blood turned to fuel as I scrambled from the bed and zoomed to the locker room, where I cleaned up and dressed at warp speed. Both the hallway and the facilities were empty, most soldiers sleeping in their cells.

As I anchored my hair in a ponytail, an elevator carried me to the twelfth floor.

A level I’d never ventured to. Perspiration dampened my palms. The cart stopped and opened.

I spotted Cyrus immediately. He stood in front of a pair of guarded double doors, his hands in his pockets.

He’d showered, shaved, and changed since I’d last seen him, his hair wet and his military fatigues crisply pressed. His wound looked better.

I approached him tentatively, my heart racing. “Hi. Sir.”

A wry smile lit his rough features. “You’re excited to see me.”

“What? No.” Embarrassment scorched my cheeks. “Why would you ever think—”

He tapped a transmitter behind his ear, and my shoulders rolled in. Right.

“Just so you know, it’s not excitement,” I grumbled. Probably. “You make me nervous.”

“Ah. Nervous,” he echoed, growing serious. “Brighten up, Pink. You’re about to receive a treat few others have enjoyed. A private tour led by the king’s son. I’ll show you the rifts between worlds.”

Rifts. Our mode of transport into Theirland. “Yes, please!”

The guards pushed open the doors, and Cyrus waved me inside the room.

I took a step, then hesitated, suspicions brewing. “This feels like a bribe. As if you’re going to expect information about Shiloh.” Or Ember.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not foolish enough to bribe you for information you said you don’t have. Take the tour or not. Always your choice.”

Well. In that case. I strode past the door, entering a huge, mostly empty space with a glass-encased room in back labeled Triage .

The rifts occupied the center of the room, and wow.

“They’re like enormous claw marks. Air wounds.

” It looked like a massive beast had raked its nails through the air and cut into an abyss. Thick shadows slithered inside each.

Cautious, I edged around the rifts. They appeared the same no matter my angle. “Are there many of these throughout our world?”

At my side, Cyrus nodded. “Many. But these particular rifts lead to a Cured -protected building in Theirland. One by one, lords- and ladies-in-training will step into the darkness. You’ll experience a moment of excruciating pain, then you’ll be in Theirland.

” A muscle jumped in his jaw. A reaction I didn’t understand.

Unless he didn’t like the other world. “The facility has a walled perimeter, armed guards, and cameras. There are few places you can go that someone isn’t watching. ”

I heard the warning tucked inside the complimentary tidbit, and it didn’t bode well for my goal. If he already suspected my plan to poke around, I was as good as caught.

He misunderstood my concern and promised, “I’ll help you get through this however I can.”

“Thank you. This helped,” I whispered. I believed he meant his words. Yes, we’d had a rough start, but every day since, he’d aided me. I should take a risk and tell him about the Tome Society. He wouldn’t blame me, and he might erase my confusion. My only shot at a win-win.

I braced. “Please test me for Madness. Use the most reliable method of testing available.” My blood.

He frowned but didn’t move away from me. “Do you have symptoms?”

“No, but I’m going to tell you something that could make you think otherwise.”

The frown deepened. After a prolonged hesitation, he motioned to triage. “There’s a kit in there.”

He led me into the glass room. I sat on a gurney while he gathered supplies.

Gloves, alcohol swabs, a bandage, and a press-and-release needle with a built-in test strip.

After cleaning my right index finger, he slid the tester in place.

The container covered the digit from tip to base.

With the push of a button, three needle pricks sent a spike of pain up my arm, and I hissed.

The device clamped tight, tighter, squeezing blood from the wounds. Then the pressure eased, and he freed me, bandaged my finger, and stared down at the result pad, awaiting the verdict.

I’d be negative, no doubt about it. I must be.

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.

Roman noticed me with the HP and knit his brows together. I jumped away from Cyrus, as if I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

“You okay?” Roman mouthed.

I nodded, mouthing back, “All good.” I’d reintroduce my mother’s move another day.

The HP waved Roman over, and the soldier jogged between the rifts, totally unfazed. He entered the glass room and saluted his superior. Something I’d forgotten to do. I winced. Even though Cyrus hadn’t complained about the lack, I gave a retroactive salute then and there.

The corners of his mouth inched up. “Things will be chaotic when we cross over. As the final two trainees in the welcome ring, I expect you both to go through first, recover quickly, and help the others as they arrive.”

Roman nodded, confident. “You can count on me, sir.”

“Yes. Me too.” I mimicked the nod and the confidence.

Hiking his thumb at me, Roman teased, “I hear she’s very brave.”

Fire flamed in my entire face, amplifying when Cyrus rolled his lips under his teeth to prevent another smile.

“I’ve heard the same,” he said. “Now go line up and wait for the others while I speak with the commanding officers.”