Page 27 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)

“Obviously.” He didn’t comment about my slip of the tongue any other way. Not giving me permission to use his name again but not issuing a rebuke, either, and I wasn’t sure what to think.

He paused at a full-length mirror, giving me a glimpse of his reflection. Oh my. He wore all black, with tactical gear anchored in place. A vest loaded with weapons and a belt heavy with even more. Two swords crisscrossed on his back, the handles rising over his broad shoulders.

“Unlike the other soldiers,” he said, “I’m not guarding pritis mines or fighting feeders.

I’m on a special mission. There’s a plant growing in a field that occasionally produces a bundle of red berries.

Most maddened ignore the fruit, but a rare few flock to it.

On three separate occasions, a feeder has eaten them and recovered from the Madness within seconds. ”

Talk about a major game changer. I must see this plant! “What happened to them after they healed?”

A prolonged silence only added fuel to my curiosity.

Finally he said, “One made it through a nearby rift but two were killed by feeders.” He refocused the conversation.

“We’ve never managed to obtain the berries for testing, but we hope to change that tonight.

There’s a cluster in bloom, and I’m tasked with retrieval. ”

And I got to accompany him. Me. Wow. Excitement quickened my heartbeat. “Are you planning to bring back a soil sample, too, and if so, may I log a formal request to smell it?”

His husky chuckle thrilled me in ways it shouldn’t. The images on the glass changed rapidly, gliding from the bedroom to a hallway to an elevator. Cyrus was on the move. “Be honest. You wish you’d accepted the job as my assistant.”

Here and now? “Not even a little.” I walked with him. “An assistant wouldn’t be linked up for a special plant-and-soil mission, in the running for top lady.” Surely a special assignment meant extra points.

Another chuckle sent waves of pleasure through my veins. “Where’s your concern for my welfare?”

“Concern is fear’s ugly cousin, sir. As someone surprisingly brilliant has taught me, I resist fear; I don’t encourage it. Let’s do this!”

He snickered. “When you go all in, you go all in. I like it.”

The elevator doors opened, and we—he—entered a heavily guarded arena. Recalling my own mission, I took in as many details as possible. Searching, searching for something, anything, that might demolish Ember’s suppositions. But everything I saw just looked like more of the same.

Barons, the rank above knights, and viscounts, the rank above barons, approached Cyrus, seeking instructions. He barked out orders, staying on the go.

“We’ll be in a vehicle as long as possible,” he explained, entering an empty room with built-in cannons protruding from small wall cubbies.

Another door loomed ahead. There, he paused with his hand on the knob.

“This is the entry to a garage, where a team is waiting for us.” He engaged his lens, covering his eyes and therefore my own.

“Do you remember the sensations caused by RVM?”

“I do.” And I still wasn’t a fan.

“My lens will activate when I step beyond this final checkpoint, correcting everything. You’ll experience what I experience.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

“Ready?”

A seed of worry sprouted. While I was tucked safely inside, he would be out there, risking his life. “Be safe.”

“Always.” Amusement returned to his tone. “Take notes.”

“I’m drafting my report as we speak,” I quipped.

He snorted. “Forget the paper. I intend to give you an oral exam.”

My cheeks blazed at the sudden, unexpected, and completely inappropriate thought that followed his words. He had not meant to sound so sexual. The man was on a mission, and it wasn’t to get into my pants. So. Moving on. “I’ll ace it, guaranteed.”

“I suspect you’re right.” His low, husky tone kept the illusion of carnality alive, but I ignored it. Then he was pushing into the garage.

As predicted, my world instantly flipped upside down.

The abrupt switch played havoc with my equilibrium, and I teetered.

The bars prevented a fall. Then the lens did its job, and the floor became the floor again, rather than the ceiling.

I wasn’t the biggest fan of feeling as if I peered into a virtual reality, or the promised ache in my temples, but it hardly mattered. We were berry hunting!

Cyrus stalked into a wide-open space brimming with all manner of armored vehicles. I could almost smell the scent of fuel. Six viscounts worked together, loading boxes into a truck bed rimmed by metal bars and pritis clusters. Nothing out of the ordinary here either.

Noticing Cyrus, one of the men stopped and saluted. “High Prince Dolion. It’s an honor to join you in the field again, sir.” The others performed the same actions the moment they spotted their superior.

“Thank you for the escort.” He withdrew his swords from their sheaths, climbed into the back of the truck, and sat with his spine pressed against the cab.

Meanwhile, I performed the same motions, even that of sitting.

Thankfully, a seat unfolded from the pole, holding me steady.

“I have a trainee with me. I’ll be speaking to her throughout the expedition. ”

“Yes, sir.”

The truck shook as four soldiers joined us and two more settled in up front. Was Cyrus nervous at all? As the vehicle jostled forward, an exit in the garage opened, revealing a road illuminated by pritis. No feeders approached until we cleared the compound.

Any outside light vanished—there one second, gone the next. The only illumination came from the vehicle and armor worn by the soldiers, providing shadowy glimpses of crazed eyes. Wild snarls competed with the sound of the revving engine.

I tilted as the truck executed a turn, abandoning the paved road to speed along dirt and gravel.

We dodged any battlegrounds, swerving as necessary to avoid the knights and barons who engaged with feeder hordes.

The two groups clashed with such violence in a field illuminated by pritis light, I longed to look away.

“No questions for me?” Cyrus asked.

A moment passed before I realized he spoke to me. “Tons.” But few involved the mission. “I’m trying to absorb everything without distracting you.”

“We’re five minutes out,” the driver called.

A body slammed into the windshield, shaking the entire vehicle. I gasped as I bounced with Cyrus. Feeders swarmed from every direction, as if the soldiers had driven into a trap.

The driver floored the gas, mowing down anything in his path.

“There are too many feeders. He won’t be able to stop,” Cyrus told me. “If he does, feeders will glom the vehicle, and we’ll get stuck. I’m going to jump and roll, which means you’re going to slam against your bars. My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about me.” How could he survive hurling himself into a horde of the infected? “Do what you’ve got to do.”

He did, following two of the four guards out the tail of the vehicle.

Cyrus rolled across a rocky tundra, and as predicted, I thrashed back and forth against the pole.

Dizziness crested as he popped to his feet and swung, his glowing swords arcing through the air.

I had no control of my body as he sliced and diced his way forward, with the soldiers doing the same at his sides.

Light flicked with their every movement, revealing details I would have missed otherwise.

The skill Cyrus displayed awed me even as the sights inspired only horror.

Heads flew without bodies, and blood sprayed in arcs.

Severed limbs plopped to the ground. Hisses, grunts, and panting breaths packed my ears.

If the “true” purpose of the Annex was to keep these feeders from Ourland, I would be forever grateful to Cured .

“Go, go,” Cyrus commanded, and he sprinted off.

As he jumped and dodged the maddened, I jumped and dodged. As he climbed pieces of fallen carnival rides, I climbed, pushing my stamina to the brink. Muscles burned and shook. No wonder we were forced to run obstacle courses.

He utilized weapons I’d handled in class and, when necessary, wedged himself in a safe cubby to give himself time to observe and think.

Visibility increased as rays of stark white light beamed from a castle in the distance, surrounded by a large body of water.

A structure I didn’t recall seeing in videos or textbooks.

Cyrus veered right. “Glowers,” he shouted to the other soldiers as he decapitated a feeder. He switched his attention to the next challenger. And the next. “They’re protecting the berries.”

I scanned the darkness, finally spotting an attractive fortysomething man casually plucking weeds near a lush green plant. At his side was a woman—I gasped, astonished to my core. Ember. Ember was here, in Theirland. Had she followed me?

Both Soalians looked like they’d swallowed pritis stones. Gold light speckled with red emanated from the circles etched into their flesh. How unbothered they were, taking no account of the battle that raged around them. In fact, they displayed the very peace I’d craved during my entire existence.

Yearning squeezed me. Oh, to have a little of what they had, without having to join team evil.

The unknown male extended his arm, palm up, offering the still-fighting Cyrus a small red fruit from a hand missing a thumb. “We have something for you and the girl. Come. Take.”

In that moment, I registered his identity. John Victors. Leader of the glowers.

The realization triggered an emotional defense. A wrecking ball to my already-fragile calm, obliterating any sense of tranquility.

“Arden, listen to me—our comms—okay?” Cyrus slayed two more feeders as static overshadowed the bulk of his words. “The glowers—so don’t—”

Our connection cut.