Page 51 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)

Just as I’d seen in my vision, dream, or whatever it had been, the wall vanished in the smoke.

An image appeared in the rock face, shaking me to my core.

A man sat upon a throne made of sapphire.

He appeared as human as anyone else. Or would have, if a crown of light hadn’t radiated from his head, obscuring his face, and flames of the purest blue hadn’t bathed his lower half.

A flawless metal breastplate shining and golden covered his torso.

Noises garbled in my throat. My knees knocked, threatening to buckle. I knew his identity without being told.

“Arden, Arden,” he breathed out. “Troubled by so many things.”

His voice nearly buckled my knees. The sound carried the weight of many rushing waters, sending ripples over my entire being. “You are Soal.”

“I am. You desired an audience.”

Heaviness settled over me, but it wasn’t confining. More like a velvet-soft winter coat, warm and comforting. “You aren’t what I expected.”

He chuckled a little. “What did you expect, hmm?”

Good question. “To be honest, I’m not sure.” I released the first query in the ammo clip of my mind. “Did you cause these breaks? The maddened are killing in your name.”

“What do I have to gain from such deaths?” he asked.

“Depriving Cured of its citizens.” To start.

“They do that job well enough on their own.”

I waited, but Soal provided no more. No real defense or evidence. Frustrated, I took a step closer. “My friend Shiloh told me you’re the solution to every problem. From my vantage point, you don’t seem to be doing much.”

“That’s because your vantage point is too low. Read my Rock. Unless you prefer to continue dealing with Astan.”

I wouldn’t read the Rock, risking Madness, possibly playing right into his hands, until someone convinced me of its safety. “I’ve had no dealings with Astan.”

“You have. Often.”

I sputtered. No way I’d met a god with huge ram horns and wings and not realized it. Just no way. Since we were getting nowhere, I shifted gears. “I’m told you hope to recruit me.”

“I seek to recruit everyone. Only some are ready to hear.”

“Well, you made a mistake, thinking I’m ready.”

“Then let’s get you there.” His image began to fade.

“No!” I surged forward the rest of the way. I had some many more questions, but the image of a book took his place. My book. Tremors rocked me in my boots.

The familiar tome opened of its own accord, flipping through pages to reach a specific point.

Text rose from the page, drawing together to form an image.

Amelia! My beautiful sister twirled across the pages, straight from the vaults of my memory, and I pressed a hand to my fluttering pulse.

Her laughter filled the air, and I couldn’t help but laugh, too, even as tears spilled down my cheeks.

I remembered this day. We’d celebrated her acceptance into a gifted program for the best and brightest.

“If I get to pick my field of study, I’m choosing pritis,” she said. “They release a frequency I swear I feel in my bones. It’s like music. Soft and lyrical.”

Hmm. I’d forgotten she’d said that.

All too soon, the pages flipped, erasing her. “Go back,” I croaked. “Please.”

It didn’t. It stopped on a new chapter, and once again text rose, this time revealing my mother. “Oh,” I breathed out. I remembered this too. Health and vitality radiated from Mom’s pores. She beamed at an eleven-year-old Arden, who had just propagated her first weed.

“You are going to grow a paradise, baby,” Mom proclaimed with a hug.

In the present, I felt her arms around me. More tears dripped down my cheeks.

“What’s a paradise?” young Arden asked.

“A garden of delights filled with everything we could ever need or want.”

This was the day I’d decided my path. Agriculture or nothing.

Once again, the pages flipped and stopped, and suddenly Shiloh was making funny faces at me, turning a bad day into a cherished memory. I giggled and cried in unison, so happy to see him but also torn to shreds inside. A beautiful life cut short. Why show me these things? Why!

The book flipped to another page, revealing text without an image. The code is 80630941507. As soon as my gaze grazed the final number, the book closed, the library faded, the stone returned, and the symbols ceased spinning.

“Give me more!” Except for the code thing, each of those moments had marked me. They were slices of peace and joy within a chaotic world. Was that what the Tome Society—Soal?—offered me? “Just one mo—”

Cyrus appeared in my line of vision, blocking the Rock.

Nooo! I attempted to slide past him, but he moved with me.

With a viselike grip on my arms, he forced my attention onto his face.

His mouth was moving, but no sound emerged.

Wait. I frowned. Blood dotted him, sweat soaked his hair, and raw concern dominated his harsh expression.

Snap. The world returned to normal, noise bombarding my ears. Alarms, sirens, footsteps, shouts, bangs. Dead bodies scattered the ground.

“—need to run before doors are locked. Arden? Do you hear me?”

I blinked rapidly, confused and horrified. “Y-yes,” I responded. “Run.”

Cyrus slung an arm around my waist and tugged me along the street, away from Soal.

What. Just. Happened?