Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Chapter Twelve
Be cautious; be vigilant; be wise; the enemy’s greatest weapon is his lies.
—The Book of Soal 2.21.5.8
“We’re not traveling to Theirland today.”
Roman’s loud call filled the women’s locker room. Frowning, we flooded into the hall, joining him and our other teammates.
The second-in-command stood in the center before the two rooms. “I don’t know why, so don’t ask. We’ll proceed with our regular schedule today and go tomorrow.”
A reprieve. Nice. I returned to my locker and finished preparing for class. When I finished, I raced to gym C. The coming warm-up meant I was seconds away from seeing Shiloh and High Prince Dolion.
Anticipation warred with nervousness and determination. There, in that moment, I made a decision. I would tell the HP about the invitation. Letting him find out another way would do no one any good. But I’d take a risk and leave out Ember’s name. Although, I did need to mention the execution threat, bluff or not. However, I would confess my intentions to Shiloh first.
Argh! He wasn’t here. The HP didn’t show up either. Both absences bothered me, agitating my stress response.
As the day progressed, my agitation magnified. There had been no sign of either man. Maybe someone had overheard Shiloh’s talk of the Rock and tattled. He might be locked in a room with the high prince, undergoing an intense interrogation.
“Roosa,” Duchess Mimidae snapped.
I blinked into focus, realizing my turn to fire a netter had arrived and every member of class was fixated on me. Cheeks heating, I stepped up to the designated line and aimed the heavy gun at a dummy set up on the other side of the classroom. My grip trembled as I squeezed the trigger. A metal net unfurled as it whipped toward my target. Dang. I’d missed, the net adhering to the wall beside the dummy. So far, I’d done my best with the throwing stars.
“You’re too stiff,” she said. “Next time exhale a deep breath before you fire.”
Disappointed in my performance, I hustled to the end of the line to await my redo.
Titus stepped up to bat and executed a perfect shot.
“Excellent,” the duchess praised. “A netter is your best choice when you come upon a glower or any feeder in need of treatment rather than death.”
The bell rang, and we hurried to lunch. Then came self-defense, then first aid. Again, there was no sign of the HP or Shiloh. My worry for them sprouted thorns. By the time drills arrived, I felt as if I’d been tied to a rack and stretched beyond my limits.
I entered the Dome and drew up short. At last! Both males were present. But. Hmm. Neither appeared happy. Shiloh glared at the floor again, his hands fisted. The HP maintained a blank expression, but the usual force field around him crackled with tension. My stomach sank. Something had definitely happened between them.
Maybe today wasn’t the best day to share my intentions.
“Line up,” the HP bellowed, never glancing my way. “Hustle.”
The entire class rushed to obey, and I could do no less. We put ourselves shoulder to shoulder in the center of the room.
He walked in front of us, his arms behind his back. “Tomorrow you will step into Theirland for the first time, officially becoming realm walkers.”
I cringed inside. Many soldiers cheered.
Our leader barked, “This isn’t a time for celebration but dedication. You won’t be doing patrol because you aren’t ready for it. But you will be paired with an established knight and watch a patrol from the safety of a POD. Afterward, I expect you to write a paper explaining everything the soldier did right and wrong, citing information you’ve acquired in your classes.”
Okay, that didn’t sound so terrible. From my studies, I knew a POD was a private observation deck, protected by a clear unbreakable shield.
The HP stopped and scanned the line. When he came to me, his gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer, and I thought he maybe, possibly, searched for something. But what?
“Today, we’ll play a game that mimics what you’ll witness with the knights. See the cubbies carved into the wall?” He pointed. “Each opening acts as a shelter for a lone soldier. Currently seventeen are available. There are eighteen of you.” He motioned to Mykal, who dragged in a box of practice armor in the shade of bronze. The color for lords- and ladies-in-training.
“Suit up,” the HP commanded, and we rushed to obey. “Like your assigned soldier, you’ll compete in the dark. Though those in the field will encounter real feeders, you will be hunted by a hologram designed to detect fear and noise. You’ll only see it when it comes within a five-foot range. Stay aware. Remember, you can’t help others if you can’t help yourself. If a feeder grazes you, you won’t be disqualified, but you’ll hurt. Once you’re tagged, you become a permanent target. The game doesn’t stop until every cubby is filled. The one stuck out in the open is eliminated. We’ll run the drill again and again with minor differences until we crown a winner, who will receive three meal vouchers to be used at their discretion.”