Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
I held his gaze and followed Cyrus’s example for dealing with unruly trainees. “Are you sure you want to travel this route with me, Mills? Right or not, I obviously have connections you don’t.”
He paled and backed off. And yeah, okay, satisfaction bloomed.
“All right, let’s get started.” Archduke Heta spread his arms. “With the mass loss of cadets who were on special assignment with King Tagin, and the restructuring of the teams, I’m now your be-all and end-all. No matter who you are, or how high your connections”—he hit me with a pointed glance—“I will not tolerate a break in the chain of command. If you have a problem, come to me. Are we clear?”
My cheeks burned a thousand degrees hotter, but I nodded for his benefit.
“A few updates,” he continued, casual now. “We won’t be traveling to Theirland on Friday. You require more training. Also, the competition for top soldier has been postponed.”
His last bombshell inspired groans of disappointment and gasps of shock.
Heta held up his hands in a demand for silence, which he received. He might be small in stature, but he projected a big presence. “Since the Soalians have increased the ferocity of their attacks against CURED, we’re accelerating your training this month. We want you focused on learning, not on winning a prize. Though I’d dare to say knowledge is the ultimate reward.”
Done with that subject, he lifted his infamous clicker. “Since you’ll never outgrow warfare, you must learn to fight.” With the press of a button, he caused the wall behind him to light up with images.
I saw a night-darkened sky lit by blasts of lightning and broken circus rides spotlighted by pritis stones. Those small golden orbs topped poles in clusters, resembling grapes on a vine. My fingers curled over the edge of my seat, righteous anger sweeping through me. Now that I knew how those glowing “stones” were harvested, I wanted only to tear down the posts and spit in the holes.
“By now you’ve visited Theirland on numerous occasions,” Heta said. “You’ve walked through the rifts between our two realms. Have experienced the other world’s eternal darkness and inverted vision, and have participated in a mock patrol, slaying feeders too far gone for treatment.”
Feeders. Of the two types of maddened—according to CURED—feeders were the most common. In truth, they were the only ones actually infected. Driven by hunger, they craved the second type: glowers. Glowers weren’t infected; they were Soalian. When feeders couldn’t get to them, they settled for whatever flesh and blood they could find.
Heta continued, “When I feel the team is ready, you’ll each accompany a superior officer on an actual patrol. Stakes have never been higher, so I suggest you pay special attention when I speak.”
Once again, perspiration glazed my palms. Me. On patrol. In the dark. The moment someone pegged me as a glower, I was as good as dead. And how could anyone not discover it? True to the description, I now glowed in the dark. Well, sometimes I glowed. Mostly. I did it on command but also spontaneously. Kind of. Maybe. Ugh! I just didn’t know. I was too new to this. As a two-day-old Soalian, I had more questions than answers.
And I was missing the archduke’s lecture, dang it. Inner shake.
“—left behind for whatever reason, hide there,” he was saying. “A knight will come for you at some point.”
Ack! Hide where?
“There will be more maddened than you can fathom, and you’ll be fighting for your life nonstop. Amid the pandemonium, you must work with your teammates, learning when to strike, when to dodge, and when to back off. To help you navigate this, you’ll be chained to a different trainee each day for the next five days, from warm-up until free time. Grab a tether on your way out. Today, you’re paired with whoever is sitting next to you.”
Roman reached out, gripped the edge of my desk, and tugged me closer still. Great. I now had three guard dogs observing my every move. At least none of them were the meta, short for “metal.” The robotic dogs patrolled the cities, recording everything.
I stayed pressed together with my partner as the archduke played footage where swarms of mindless maddened surged forward, their irises eclipsed by blazing crimson. Small, pale worms writhed from their scalps, squiggled in place of their lashes, and slithered from their ears and noses. A froth of white foam leaked from the corners of their mouths in a continuous stream.
Revulsion rocked me. How I hated the idea of entering Theirland, the abandoned world where this type of feeder congregated. But I must. I had orders from my real boss. According to Ember Cruz, I must remain immersed in CURED’s training program.
Budding anxiety distracted me as Heta spoke about the different places the maddened preferred to hide to ambush patrolmen. By the time the bell rang, I was certain I had retained none of it.