Page 128 of Kingdom of Tomorrow
“And comments,” Cyrus quipped. “I never promised you a thing.”
“What else was I supposed to say to convince the guards you aren’t a traitor of the highest order?” Tagin snapped. “This woman you refuse to discard is now a Soalian. She partners with glowers, and you are helping her.”
“You planned to break her mother, just as you did her friend,” Cyrus snapped back, and I stiffened.
Was he guessing, fishing, or had he found evidence?
“Something else you should be thanking me for.” Fury danced in the older man’s eyes. “You wanted her, so I gave her to you. I took out the medic digging around where he shouldn’t, undermining years of work, research, and planning. Finally, I stood at the ledge of success, and he attempted to sow dissent while his sister was doing everything in her power to recruit the person who has an unnatural hold on you. Not on my watch.”
Well, here it was. Proof of guilt. A full-on confession. With my free hand, I gripped my knee, my nails digging into my skin.
“You were supposed to win her over,” Tagin snarled, “yet she pulled you further and further away from our cause. Astan isn’t happy with you.” His narrowed gaze slid to me. “If you had stuck around after watching the video of my son killing the lord, whatever his name was, I intended to offer you a job with Jade at the Center for Agriculture. But we’re past that now.”
“I desire nothing from you,” I said, fighting for calm. “What’s your new plan? Take me in for treatment I don’t need? Because we both know I’m free for the first time in my life.”
A muscle jumped beneath his eye. “Like all glowers, you will be strapped to a table, cut open time and time again, and used as a pritis factory until you die.”
Choking sounds left me. Pritis really were cut out of Soalians.
Ice clinked as Tagin drained his glass. “Son, I’m sorry to say you must be reeducated.”
“I’m past reeducation.” Cyrus smiled at the man responsible for his conception. “I’m a glower myself.”
Tagin blinked twice. With a roar, he tossed his glass at me. Cyrus dove in front of me, letting the missile slap into his chest. Ice cubes went flying. Cold liquid dots splashed my face. Tagin leveled his fiery gaze on me as his son straightened. “I will kill you with my own hands.”
“You can try,” I said simply.
“She didn’t recruit me,” Cyrus announced, shocking me further. “I recruited her. I’m Unicorn, and I arranged for you to read the messages about Arden, knowing you would recruit me for the job. I read the strategy in my book.”
Denial roared from Tagin. But as he glanced between us, hatred contorted his face. His nostrils flared with every labored breath. Suddenly he exploded, pounding a fist on the partition and shouting, “Stop the car.”
The vehicle halted with a screech.
Tagin withdrew a gun from a holster at his ankle. “Get out,” he commanded.
I looked to Cyrus, who nodded. My legs shook as we exited. When Tagin followed us out, leaving my mother in her seat, I exhaled with relief.
A field of weeds and sand surrounded us. There were no trees or buildings. But there were two SUVs parked in front of the limo and two parked behind it, each filled with guards.
Those guards emerged, three familiar faces among them. Titus, Lark, and Juniper. I groaned. The trio was very clearly infected, worms already slithering from their scalps, ruffling what remained of their hair.
Sorrow and dread collided. They didn’t appear to be mindless, on the hunt for pain and violence, like the maddened in Theirland. Rather, they seemed as blank as a fresh canvas. Metal collars were cinched to their necks.
“The glowers may have taken out half my forces this morning, but I still have my pride and joy,” Tagin said. “They are proof we have created a Madness of our own.”
He truly believed Soal created the first Madness. Didn’t connect the dots and see his god lied to him as much as he lied to people. “No longer pretending to care about the greater good, I see.”
“We’re past appearances and pretenses, Miss Roosa. But what we’ve crafted isn’t a disease but a privilege. These soldiers are ... enhanced.” Tagin motioned to the group, and they quickly formed a circle around us. “I command, and they obey. That makes them a treasure. But I’m willing to part with them to teach you a lesson. Titus,” he called, glaring at me. “Shoot Juniper Henrick in the head.”
I shouted, “No!”
My denial didn’t matter. Titus lifted his gun, aimed, and squeezed the trigger, putting a bullet in her brain.
Acid filled my stomach when she toppled. As if he’d done nothing wrong, Titus returned to his ready stance.
“Enough,” Cyrus bellowed.
“I could’ve made you a god,” Tagin shouted at his son, “and this is how you repay me?”
