The Network ( Book One of the Grounders Series )

19

Dedicated to so1tgoes

Aroculan escorts us down the corridor. He wears black robes this time. Something is about to go down, but I'm not sure we can get out of this place before it does. It seems to me like there's going to be some dark, hellish ritual where he sacrifices our blood or something.

My arm is laced protectively through Cicada's. Her face is stone but I know she's worried and afraid. I can feel it in the stiffness of her muscles.

Jonah and Joss stay together. Our weapons were left in the dormitory, all we have for defense is each other.

We walk down the corridor until we reach the other side, which ends in a grand, oaken staircase.

"Do not walk hastily up the stairs. It is professional for those of higher classes to never be in a rush. Our dinner guests are very stern when it comes to etiquette," Aroculan instructs, and we do as he says.

It takes everything in me not to charge up the stairs. They make me feel as if I'm falling again, as if the ground is being ripped from under my feet.

Near the top the stairs curve right, into a balcony overlooking this section of the wide corridor.

On the balcony is a wide table, big enough to seat at least twenty. Along one side of the table, eight people sit. They are all wearing robes of black.

There is only one woman in the crowd. She is sickly pale, almost yellow, and so thin it looks as if her skin is hanging off her bones. All of our guests look this way, except she has long black hair that blends in with her ropes so it looks endless. The seven men look identical, with bald heads, sickly looking bodies like the girl, and black robes.

Aroculan sits at on end of the table, the other is empty. The four of us fill the seats on the other side, positioning ourselves with two chairs on either side. Cicada and I sit in the middle, with Jonah next to me and Joss next to her.

"Welcome to the Arocule Palace," Aroculan announces as I scan the room. A set of double doors to might right seemingly lead into the kitchen. The wall on the left is blank, paneled with dark wood. Up above a magnificent chandelier like the one in the dormitory illuminates the entire balcony. Along the wall directly across from us, there is a rectangular section concealed by thick black draperies.

"May we stand and fold our hands together for a moment of silence for all those who've died before our meal?" Aroculan asks, but clearly we don't have a choice.

I stand and fold my hands together, following in suit of Aroculan and the eight people across from me.

We stand like that in silence for about two minutes before every takes their seats again. As if on cue, servant begin setting plates, silverware, and glasses in front of each of us.

"Your guests look exceptional tonight Your Majesty," the girl says, her voice nothing more than a barely-audible hiss.

"Thank you, Tessa, we spent quite a while prepping them for this meal before the Judgement Council," Aroculan says.

My brain is moving at a million miles, trying to put the puzzle pieces I was given into place. Aroculan, Tessa, Judgement Council. It all sounded familiar.

I try hard to think of where I heard the name King Aroculan while the servants place food onto our plates. A piece of buttered bread, a slice of juicy looking steak, an assortment of carrots, broccoli, peas, and celery, thin slices of chicken and fish, a dish of shrimp and cream sauce, some kind of chocolate pudding, lemons for the fish, and lastly they fill our wine glasses with green juice called champagne.