Page 45 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)

Those who refuse the truth will die with Cured .

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.

“He’s inside,” the viscount said, stepping aside.

Like a brave girl, I pushed inside a spacious chamber.

The opulence caught me off guard. Murals covered a cathedral ceiling, depicting battles between men and beasts.

Golden statues lined the walls, bracketed by ivory columns veined with crushed rubies.

Each figure featured a colossal man with ram horns and wings encrusted with diamonds.

A white marble floor gleamed. The air smelled of cloying, clashing perfumes, one too musky and the other too sweet.

King Dolion stood at the other side of the room, beneath the dais steps, peering up at the biggest statue. The horned, winged man towered behind a massive golden throne, gripping its top. His wings folded in at the sides, the tips brushing the arms of the royal seat.

My nerve endings buzzed with something I did not like. “This place is ...” Awful.

“Glorious, I know. Welcome to the Temple of Astan.” The king kept his attention on the throne. I detected no anger in his tone. No accusation or irritation. “My thinking spot.”

I shuffled deeper inside. “Why am I here?” In a temple for the man Shiloh had claimed was leading Cured . Looked like the medic had gotten something else right.

Perhaps he’d nailed other facts too. The sleeping gods and heating war no longer struck me as such an outlandish idea.

“Two reasons,” the king said. “We believe you can handle the truth, and you are important to my son. He’s made that very clear. Therefore, I’d like a chance to get to know you better.”

No, he hadn’t discovered what I’d done with the transmitter. Otherwise, I’d be in chains right now. “I can handle anything but more lies.” I forced myself to breeze past the admission about Cyrus.

The king waved to the throne. “Astan is a god and Soal’s greatest enemy. As Victors mentioned, the two are at war.”

Anger returned redoubled and wove between the fibers of my surprise. After all the deception and denials, the king had just admitted it. Just like that. As if I hadn’t spent my entire life scoffing at anyone who voiced such preposterous ideas.

“Ordinary people are ostracized for making such an outrageous claim,” I ground out.

“A necessary evil for the good of the world.”

“There’s no such thing as a necessary evil.”

He frowned, as if disappointed in my inability to see beyond myself. “You speak of what you do not understand, Miss Roosa.”

“Everyone is fond of saying that, but no one is willing to explain.” I was just furious enough to push, even if it got me into trouble. “There are some who’ve claimed Soal is the cure to Madness.”

He compressed his lips. “Ah, yes. I’ve heard the same. I assure you, they lie.”

I wasn’t so sure anymore. Didn’t know what to believe.

Maybe he read my uncertainty. “The eating of the stone and the drinking of the sap is what births glowers.”

I swallowed a humorless laugh. Well, well. Another fact Shiloh had gotten right. According to the reports he’d provided, glowers bore no trace of the Madness as we knew it. “To eat and drink of the Rock, they must crack into it. An impossibility, I thought.”

“It is and it isn’t. Only glowers can do it.

We have yet to replicate their method.” The king strode forward.

“Once, Astan ruled Theirland with his wife, Briar. I’m sure you’ve noticed the statues sprinkled around the compound.

They represent the most trusted members of their council before Soal decimated the entire realm, forcing them into hiding and hibernation.

Astan says a time is coming when the old gods will awaken and the final battle will erupt.

That’s why Soal has inserted himself into our society.

He hopes to build an army and slaughter the rest of us. ”

I balled my hands into fists. Yet another suspicion of Shiloh’s confirmed. While I knew little about Soal, I now comprehended an appalling fact. From the beginning, his Soalians had spoken the truth about the gods and their war. And they were punished for it.

Needing a moment, I asked the first question to pop into my head. “What is that dinosaur hybrid thing?”

“That is Bala, Astan’s beloved pet and the namesake of our military base.

” The king braced his arms behind his back.

“The Madness comes from Soal. It is his favorite means of eradication. His way of weakening a world before striking. Astan has the antidote, and it has the capacity to immortalize even the most average of citizens. Currently that antidote is too powerful for humans and requires modifications we haven’t yet mastered. ”

I wondered if Soal would tell a different story. Actually, no. I didn’t wonder. He would. According to Shiloh, a confirmed Soalian, the Madness was spread by Cured . If he was right ...

The king watched me, gauging every nuance of my expression. “You’ve met Soal, I take it.”

“No.” I hadn’t, and that was the honest-to-goodness truth ... but suddenly I wanted to. Needed to.

“You will. Soon. He’s targeted you for a reason.”

I flattened a hand over my fluttering stomach. “I don’t know why.”

“I have my suspicions,” he muttered.

“Well, please enlighten the rest of the class.”

But he didn’t. “I’ve read firsthand accounts of the violent massacres Soal committed here, and they are chilling.

” He exhaled with gusto. “A great war is coming to Ourland, Arden, whether we’re ready or not.

A final showdown between Astan and Soal, and we will play a part.

Our people must unite if we’re to survive it. ”

A war between gods, with people as casualties. How dare Cured conceal such vital information.

The king wasn’t done. “We don’t understand the mechanics, but Soal’s work in Ourland is limited to the Rock.

He can only access us and our world through the stone, which is why he raises up glowers and mindless feeders.

The two may be at odds, but each serves a purpose.

We do whatever is necessary to ensure people pay Soal no heed.

There’s no being worse than Soal. We either help Astan defeat him and his armies, or we die in agony. ”

He believed what he was saying, his conviction undeniable. I wanted to believe him, too, but I also comprehended his certainty didn’t make him right. Should I trust Soal, though?

Each side claimed the same about the other, and they couldn’t both be correct.

“You shouldn’t suppress this,” I said. “People deserve the truth.”

“The masses cannot handle stories of gods and an eternal war. How many will believe Soal’s lies and flock to the Rock, risking infection?

How many more will break? How many will die at their hands?

” He heaved a sigh. “Consider all I’ve told you.

My son and I don’t always get along, but I love him, and I don’t want you putting him at risk. ”

The king suspected I’d lost faith in Cured . He must. But he didn’t press the issue.

“Stay here as long as you like, Miss Roosa. I’m sure my son will find you soon enough.” He strode toward the door just as a stoic Cyrus stomped in. “I’m disappointed. I expected you sooner, son.”

The HP wore a clean T-shirt and fatigues, but his hair was in disarray.

His eyes were bright and alert, his jaw shadowed with stubble.

He swept his gaze over me, relaxing slightly, then focused on his father.

What he didn’t do was exhibit surprise. He knew all about Astan, this temple, and the alleged war.

“I must’ve missed my invitation to the party,” he said without an emotional inflection.

“I admit, I seized an opportunity to learn more about the first woman you’ve ever keyed into your security detail.” The king shrugged. “I’m not sorry.”

Cyrus fisted his hands. “She’s monitoring my health.”

“Yes, that too.”

The exchange occurred while they passed each other, neither missing step. My narrowed gaze remained fixed on my “patient.”

“ Cured is hiding a war that impacts the entire world,” I stated as soon as the door closed behind the king.

“Yes.” Cyrus met my gaze, unabashed.

“What else don’t I know?” I demanded.

“Many things. What, specifically, would you like to learn?”

“Admit who lives in the castle.” He’d refused before.