Page 6 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)

Nope. Not going there. I hyperfocused on my few struggling plants, watering the pot filled with dark-brown, sweet-smelling, once-native soil from Ourland.

The grains had been robotically sifted to remove everything from Theirland.

Then I sprinkled ash on the plants with glittery-yellow-but-not-so-great-smelling soil from Theirland, the home world of the Rock and Madness.

It, too, was sifted, undiluted and natural.

“I’m listening. Tell me your secrets,” I begged the grains. Nothing I’d done had increased my yield by more than 3 percent.

I traced my fingertips over a drying leaf and sighed. “What am I missing?”

Two hundred years ago, people sprayed some mixture of chemicals in the skies for reasons unknown, burning through an invisible veil that separated Ourland, my world, and a previously unknown, unseen realm.

The two didn’t crash together but merged in an instant.

Kind of. They blended, creating two mismatched puzzles that were half Ourland, half Theirland.

They were both together and separate. Many of our landmarks had vanished, replaced by theirs.

The soils combined in both worlds, which proved detrimental to many plants and trees.

Weeds thrived in the mixture, but we struggled to grow enough food for the masses.

One day, after my stint at the academy, I would figure out a worldwide solution. I welcomed the challenge.

Needing a pick-me-up, I pinched the dark-brown dirt between my fingers and inhaled the pleasant aroma.

Ah, now that was the good stuff. Highly expensive and sold on the streets at exorbitant rates.

How Mom had snagged my supply, small though it was, I still didn’t comprehend.

She couldn’t afford it, and she’d had nothing with which to bargain.

Anytime I asked about it, she shut down.

“I’m going to miss you guys.” After returning the precious soil to its pot, I eased onto the edge of my bed. Minutes passed as I waited, tenser by the heartbeat. Eventually, the final siren blared.

Night had arrived.

“One,” I whispered. “Two. Three. Four. Fiv—” A distant scream pierced the air.

Then another and another. Soon, the sounds of anguish blended, creating a discordant symphony of pain, rage, and terror.

I’d heard this chorus every night of my life.

A serenade from both new and older maddened as they spilled from their hiding places, ready to play with anyone trapped out in the open.

I shuddered. Usually I cranked up my music or plugged my ears. Tonight I preferred to hear what I was to face. Tomorrow, everything changed. My address. My purpose. Probably my lifespan.

The awful part was, in the morning, I’d still be the same. Arden Roosa, Panic Girl.

Sunlight bathed the busy city as I raced toward the designated bus stop.

I’d begun running as a form of stress relief two years ago, and today my dedication paid off.

I picked up the pace, my muscles and limbs submitting to my determination.

A bag filled with my necessities banged into my side.

I’d left the apartment with plenty of time to walk, but I’d also gotten lost in thought and ended up in the wrong location.

The current time flashed from the side of a building, mocking me: 9:58. In two minutes, the bus would drive off with or without me. I pumped my arms faster. Almost ...

Just as the side door was closing, I soared into the vehicle.

The driver motioned to the scanner. I flattened my palm against the small square surface, letting the machine read my chip. A green light flashed, a sign I had an acceptable social credit rating, with no restrictions and no infection.

No doubt I’d be charged half a trill, the same fee required for any other bus ride. Nothing came free in Ourland, especially in the province of Lucrea, but none of the signs stated a fare amount. It didn’t matter what I owed, I supposed. I had already paid the ultimate price—my life.

Heart thumping, I searched for a seat. Oh, wow. Full house. Lots of strangers, mostly my age. Half the occupants were sitting, the other half standing. I noticed a girl from my building and a couple of kids from my school, plus a guy named Jericho I’d foolishly dated for a short period last year.

Many in the group looked frightened, while some appeared excited and others oozed confidence. But all were wearing green or blue fatigues, except me. I wore a pink tank and matching running shorts.

I must have missed a mention of fatigues in Ms. Butler’s note. Or she’d forgotten to send it. Which sucked! I did own a pair of fatigues; I’d just been so happy to graduate from high school, I’d stuffed the hated uniform in a corner of my closet, and that’s where it had stayed.

The bus juddered, rocking me on my feet. I caught myself, rescanning the space, on the hunt for a place to sit. The gal from my school studied me, as if she recognized me but wasn’t sure where we’d met. I thought her name was Lark. Jericho, who sat next to her, leered and waved me over.

I pretended not to see him. He absolutely had not changed.

“Arden?”

My heart fluttered as a familiar voice rose above the cacophony of chatter, drawing my attention to the back. Shock kicked me. “Shiloh.” He’d passed his health exam. Otherwise, he’d be in quarantine receiving treatment right now.

He arrowed from his spot, bumping into his seatmate before shouldering his way to me. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“I didn’t. I’m a soldier at Fort Bala Royal Academy. A lady-in-training.”

“A lady-in-training,” he parroted. His brow wrinkled. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m paying bills before I attend college,” I admitted, too dazed to filter my words.

“But. You’ll be fighting the maddened. Those in Ourland as well as those in Theirland, which are a different breed entirely. Some glow in the dark, and others grow worms instead of hair.”

I gulped. It was too late to scare me off. “Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors.” I hurried on. “I’m so glad to see you’re alive and unharmed.” I ran my gaze over him. He looked strong and healthy, completely unaffected by yesterday’s ordeal.

“I went home with a few bruises, but otherwise I’m fine. I passed a full exam. No trace of—” His lips compressed. “You know.”

“I’m so glad.” My brain finally caught up with the situation. “But why are you on my bus?”

“I do my clinicals at the academy.”

Oooh. Yes. That tracked.

He searched my face until the bus took a corner a little too swiftly and we lurched to the side. I accidentally dropped my bag onto his feet.

“May I?” he asked, lifting what remained in my life.

“Will this act of chivalry unbalance our scale?” I teased.

“Very much so.” He anchored the bag over his shoulder. With a wink, he extended his fingers in my direction. “But you’ll hold my hand, and it will level again.”

I smiled and did it. I clasped his hand and held on tight.

“Come on.” He gave me a comforting squeeze. “We can finish our date on the drive.”

Our fellow passengers shifted, watching as Shiloh led me to the end of the bus. My heart thudded with renewed life, different emotions surging and crashing. Fear of the unknown. More relief. A twinge of happiness. A ray of hope. Buckets of dread and uncertainty. More fear. So, so, so much fear.

He stopped at the spot he’d vacated. “Get up,” he told his seatmate, his firm tone permitting no argument.

“Oh, he doesn’t have to—” I began.

“Yes, he does.” He kept his focus on his friend. “Get up, Roman.”

With a snort, the guy complied, standing.

“Fine. But only because I love you. Maybe also because I’m insanely curious.

” He was a few inches shorter than Shiloh, with double the muscle mass.

I’d bet he was a couple of years younger.

His jovial manner suggested he wasn’t upset with his friend or the situation.

Beneath the joviality, however, was the kind of sharpness I’d only ever seen in soldiers.

Shiloh released my hand and shifted, allowing me to slip into the vacated seat. He plopped beside me and settled my bag onto his lap. For the first time in forever, I kind of wanted to drape myself over another person. Anything to absorb a smidge of his strength.

“I planned to find you during my next leave,” he admitted. “I owe you a food and/or a drink and/or both, and I always pay my debts. And I’m beyond thrilled to see you. I am. But you shouldn’t be here. What occurred yesterday is child’s play compared to what soldiers encounter daily.”

I took no offense. Truth was truth. “My mother was destined for Gradon. I did what was necessary to keep her safe.”

“Ah. I understand.” He scrubbed his palm over his face. “She’s your best friend. I remember.”

Exactly.

“I’m Roman, in case you missed my name,” the friend piped up, giving me a mock half bow. Well, as much of a bow as he could manage, squeezed into a crowd. “Not Rome . Not Romey . Roman . I’m Little Boy’s neighbor.”

I snorted. “I’m Arden.”

“Yeah. I figured. You’re the gardener who looks like a doll and gives good conversation.” Roman snickered as Shiloh pinched the bridge of his nose. “Trust me, I heard all about you last night.”

My attention whipped to Shiloh, the corners of my mouth twitching. “A doll, huh.”

“That’s not—well, yeah, it’s what I said, but in my defense, you do.” He skipped to the next topic with a nod to the beautiful girl at Roman’s side. “This is Mykal Ellison. She’s from mine and Roman’s building, here for a similar reason as you. She is, quote, unquote, ‘screaming on the inside.’”

“Hi,” she said with an upbeat wave. “I’m sure you and I will be great friends. Unless you hurt him.” She hiked her thumb at Shiloh. “Then we’ll become mortal enemies, and I’ll be forced to ruin you.”

“Noted.” I liked her. She was loyal and protective, and I commiserated with her greatly. “Are you two ...” I pointed between her and Roman.

Both of them recoiled. “Ew. No!” Mykal wrinkled her nose. “He’s like an annoying brother to me.”

Roman nodded in total agreement. “Don’t worry, she seems as mean as a rattlesnake, but she’s all hiss and no fangs.” He rubbed his fist into the crown of Mykal’s head. As she sputtered and batted at him, he easily subdued her.

“See!” she huffed. “Annoying.”

“That one is pure panther,” he said, motioning to Shiloh and wiggling his brows.

“Please. I’m a domesticated cat, and you know it,” Shiloh corrected without heat.

Roman groaned. “Dude. Don’t compare yourself to a house kitty. Help me help you win the girl.”

Shiloh half stood and drove his knuckles into his friend’s bicep. “Better?”

As Roman acted as if he’d been smacked with a tank, I chuckled.

Their camaraderie surprised me. In a day and age when anyone could turn on you at any time, such ease was rare. I don’t think I’d ever truly relaxed, not even with my mother. Maybe once with my dad, after he’d defended me from a maddened, but he walked out on Mom and me when we’d needed him most.

I gripped my knees and gazed out the window, forcing the hated memory to retreat.

Huge statues of human-animal hybrids peppered the land, each from Theirland.

The structures complemented the colossal crystal palaces, also from Theirland, but clashed with everything else.

Every so often, I spotted a tree, and the sightings thrilled me. I’d never been this far south before.

When the bus stopped at a security checkpoint, I blinked, only then plugging in to the present. A sea of glistening crimson sand stretched beyond the windowpane, framed by a tall wire fence. Armed guards marched here and there.

An invisible knife twisted in my chest. Fort Bala.

We had arrived.

“There you are,” Shiloh said, relieved. The bus eased up a glittery yellow path.

I bet he’d tried to converse with me the entire ride. “I can’t apologize enough,” I told him. “I didn’t mean to tune you out. It’s a habit, and I—”

“I’m not upset. Listen,” he interjected. “Don’t fight the pain. That just makes it worse.”

I sat up straighter. “Pain?”

“Medics,” the driver called. Command infused his voice. Conversations ceased. “Report to your posts.”

Shiloh reached over to pat my hand before standing. Then he and seven others made their way to the exit and disembarked, leaving me semipanicked. Don’t fight the pain of what?

“Lords- and ladies-in-training,” the driver called next. “Exit.”

With dread curdling in my belly, I did exactly that, following Mykal, who trailed Roman. We filed out, entering a whole new world ...