Page 26 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)
If you do not ask for what you need, how can you receive it?
“Is something going on between you and High Prince Dolion?” Roman asked as the rest of our team flooded into the room, lining up behind the rifts. “Be honest. I won’t be mad.”
“What? Him? Me?” I sputtered. I’d meant what I’d told Cyrus.
Argh! The HP. He made me nervous, and I didn’t enjoy being nervous.
My romantic interest centered around the very kind, very wonderful Shiloh.
Who I hadn’t kissed when I’d had the chance.
An occurrence I still didn’t comprehend.
“He tested me for—” I gave Roman the look. You know.
“Ah. Yeah.” He compressed his lips. “Because of Shiloh, I bet. Dude’s been acting so weird lately. He was supposed to come with us today, but he’s been confined to his room for observation.”
Spending time confined to his room was a good thing. Maybe. Hopefully? Cured would see he was a smart, capable man going through a tough thing, forced to change his life plan for his health.
Marked for execution.
At the reminder of Ember’s pronouncement, apprehension slithered through me. The glower might be a Soalian, and evil, but she wouldn’t harm the brother she sought to recruit. Shiloh wasn’t in any danger.
Unless he was.
I balled and relaxed my hands. “I wasn’t tested because of Shiloh,” I told Roman, unwilling to let the medic carry any blame. But explain the real reason? No.
Thankfully, Lark shouldered her way to us, claiming the team leader’s attention. A myriad of other conversations started up around us, some charged with excitement, others dripping with nervousness.
I waited and watched for Mykal, but she never arrived.
Roman guessed my intent and stopped Lark midsentence to tell me, “Since our little kitten doesn’t attend classes, she’s not allowed to enter Theirland.”
Made sense. Maybe Cyrus intended to ask me to assist him while there. I would absolutely without question refuse. Probably.
A horn blared, and the crowd grew silent. Everyone’s attention whipped to triage, where Cyrus had been speaking with the archduke and duchess since my exit with Roman. Archduke Heta and the duchess exited as well.
From the doorway, Cyrus made a hand motion.
Armed guards marched forward, posting themselves beside the rifts.
Tremors invaded my limbs. In a matter of minutes—seconds—I would leave the only world I’d ever known and enter my nightmare.
The realm responsible for the Rock and the Madness, where perpetual night ruled.
Although. Hmm. The Rock led to the mysterious third realm, where it must originate.
Which meant the Madness originated there, too, and not Theirland.
But Cyrus claimed Shaddai was a utopia without illness.
More puzzle pieces I couldn’t fit together. My heart rate spiked. How was I ever to make sense of anything?
The transmitters activated, and a husky voice whispered inside my ears despite the distance between us. “Remember, this is a simple training expedition. Travel will hurt, but it’s fleeting.”
I jerked my gaze to Cyrus. Looking right at me, he spoke again, his expression almost tender. “I’ll be waiting for you on the other side of the rift. Just come to me.”
His voice tickled my ears, and his words enveloped me like a warm hug. Calm washed over me. Yes. I could walk to Cyrus. I could walk to Cyrus, no problem.
He crossed the room, stepped into the darkness, and vanished from view. Gasps and murmurs sounded.
A grinning Roman kissed Lark on the mouth in front of everyone. “Take the spot at the end of the line and stop any runners.”
“Yes, sir. See you on the other side.” She gave him a return peck before hustling to the back. Guess they were officially a couple now, all games done.
“First walkers,” the guards at the seams called.
Roman advanced with eagerness, disappearing inside the shadows.
Inhale. Exhale. Mere moments until departure.
“Next walker.”
Knees knocking, I plodded forward, bracing for my first realm walk. Was I truly about to do this? I paused at the edge. Inhale, exhale. Last chance to stay. Inching backward ...
“Go,” Lark shouted.
Yes. Go to Cyrus. Fear wouldn’t stop me. Fortifying my resolve, I took the final step forward. Shadows swallowed me. The foundation at my feet vanished, and I fell into an endless void. Head thrown back, spine arched, I screamed in anguish. Too much, too much!
Blink. The foundation returned, and the agony fled. I collapsed, my legs unable to hold my weight. But strong arms wrapped around me, catching me before I hit.
“I’ve got you.” Cyrus’s voice came from outside my head, not inside. “You’re all right. You’re here. It’s over.”
Panting, I clung to him, desperate for some kind of human connection. Anything to anchor me to this present sense of safety and security.
He righted me and didn’t protest when I poured myself over him. He might have even petted my hair. “You good?”
“Yes, thank you. Sir.” I forced myself to straighten and release him, but I secretly rejoiced when he maintained our connection.
“Good. Look up.”
I did, and my jaw dropped. The ceiling was transparent.
For the first time in my entire life, I peered up at a night sky, and the beauty stole my breath.
Pinpricks of light glittered in a bed of black velvet.
Stars I’d only ever read about in books or seen in pictures, unable to glimpse from my tiny bedroom window while pritis lights glowed from buildings around the city.
The photos had failed to accurately portray the miracle of the in-person sight.
“It’s glorious,” I breathed.
“Yes.”
“ This is a utopia.”
“Yes. Until you see past the veneer.”
My brow furrowed. What did that mean?
Commotion around us drew my attention to the rest of the room. Rounded walls covered in iridescent crystals. A dazzling golden floor. Pure luxury. “Walkers” recovering from travel.
Behind us, Juniper appeared from thin air, dropping to her knees. A fully recovered Roman rushed over to pull her up, and Cyrus released me at last. He said nothing else before stalking off to join a contingent of uniformed officers.
Titus arrived, appearing shell shocked, and I bounded over to assist him. He clung to me, as I’d clung to Cyrus.
I patted his back and offered the same words of comfort I’d been given. “You’re all right. You’re here. It’s over.”
He drew in a ragged breath, his tremors fading. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
As more and more soldiers showed up, free space shrank. On-site medics hurried to examine those who vomited, passed out, or screamed. When Lark emerged, the last member of our team, Roman ordered us to huddle together.
“Welcome to the Annex. As the HP explained, we’ll be safe inside a heavily guarded facility as we do our ride-along with ground patrol today and tomorrow.
I’d love to tell you we get to take a beat and regroup before we start, but one day we’ll be sent through a rift and straight into combat.
This is how we prepare. For that reason, our shift kicks off in ten.
We’re heading to dock 3, where we’ll be linked to a preassigned partner.
Don’t speak again until you’re secured in a POD or in an off-duty sector. ”
I didn’t understand the need for silence, but I chose to obey the rule.
Roman guided us through a building as massive as Fort Bala.
Opulence abounded. Windowed walls revealed a sea of shadows with hints of flashing lights in the distance.
Veins of gold ran through a polished white floor.
High ceilings accommodated an array of statues featuring the same male, with the top half of a human and the bottom half of some sort of dinosaur.
He was unlike any statue in Ourland. A hood covered his face, and a long tail curled in a counterclockwise circle.
Precious gems glittered from top to bottom.
Did anyone offer historical tours?
We entered a large room filled with hundreds of soundproof cubicles. Each possessed a side table and a central dais with a fat metal bar protruding from its back end. In some of the cubicles, a soldier, appearing to mime, stood atop the pedestal, banded in place.
An older woman stood behind a counter. Roman approached her first, and she motioned to an ID pad. He pressed his palm flat. She typed something, swiped up a small metal card and a small box, and passed both to him. Off he went. When my turn arrived, she and I followed the same process.
I dragged my feet to an unoccupied POD. To whom was I to be linked?
Having memorized the steps I was to take, I entered, inserted the card into the proper slot on the console, and donned the required attire: a two-piece bodysuit meant to go over my clothing, plus a headband and gloves, all of which waited on the side table. The box contained a pair of contacts.
I secured everything, then took my place on the pedestal.
A whirling sound preceded the emergence of rounded bars from the pole.
Those bars circled my waist. Multicolored lights flashed over the glass walls, a picture forming.
A spacious bedroom with a massive bed, buttery-soft-looking sheets, and a nightstand with a decanter of amber liquid.
“What the—” My body moved of its own accord, directed by the bodysuit. It felt as if someone pulled my puppet strings. I couldn’t stop and soon realized I was acting out the motions of putting a gun together.
“Hello, Pink.” The familiar voice brimmed with amusement, spilling through the room from speakers instead of the disks behind my ears. “You’re early.”
“Cyrus?” Oh no I did not. I walked in place, a tread rolling beneath my feet. “I obviously meant High Prince Dolion ,” I said as I mimicked turning a knob. On the screen, a door opened. Because of the contacts, I saw the whole thing as if I were right there with him.