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)
“Next walkers,” a guard announced.
My turn. Conversations faded from my awareness, my entire world revolving around the tear in the atmosphere. Ignoring Technicolor memories of pain and helplessness, I entered the shadows.
Agony consumed me, just as before, cells exploding, bones cracking. Or seeming to. My knees buckled. I crashed to the floor, air bursting from my lungs.
Titus swooped over to help me stand. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” I turned to aid the realm walker who exited after me. The ever-silent Cash appeared, ashen and quaking. I caught him when he fell, but his heavy weight dragged me down with him.
New goal to add to my list: build muscle.
Jericho appeared after him. He grimaced but didn’t miss a beat. In fact, he bent to heft Cash and me to our feet.
“Thanks,” I muttered and jetted off. No breaks on return days. Warm-up kicked off in fourteen minutes.
“Hey, Arden. Hold up.” Jericho swooped to my side. “Look. I know you’ve got something going with the HP.”
I sputtered with indignation. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And that’s quite a feat, considering you once told me you’d already bagged me in your mind, and out of the goodness of your heart you were willing to show me what I did wrong in your fantasy so reality would be better for you.”
Jericho puffed up his chest, his version of you’re welcome. “Save your denials about a romance. During my first patrol, I was paired with a guard in the HP’s truck. You made the coldest guy I’ve ever met smile. And I get it. You’ve got this whole understated beauty thing going on with your big eyes and pouty red lips. What I don’t know is whether I saw the HP eat a Theirland berry and vanish.” He lowered his voice. “No one else seemed to notice or care. Am I losing my mind?”
No need to ponder it. “Yes, you are.” I wasn’t the HP’s biggest fan, but I didn’t have to wonder if he’d eaten the fruit Cured wished to test. No, he hadn’t. He wouldn’t risk his life or his victory. Granted, he hadn’t returned with a berry, but that meant nothing. Less than nothing. No doubt the strobe effect of light and dark had played tricks on Jericho’s mind. “Another possibility is—and please excuse my reliance on logic—the HP seemed to disappear in the darkness.”
Jericho narrowed his eyes. “Except I saw it. He was there, then he wasn’t. So? What did you see?”
“My feed got cut before the big battle,” I admitted, and he huffed.
As others in a hurry to get to class crowded behind us, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Do me a favor and talk to him about it and let me know what he says. Okay?” Jericho branched to the right.
Not okay. Not okay at all. What’s more, I didn’t appreciate his sudden nice-guy act. An obvious attempt to manipulate me to his will. Whatever. He wasn’t worth another thought.
I shoved my hand into my pocket, where my vial of soil rested. Deep breath in. If the HP acquired a berry seed, I bet I could grow one . . . which might be a contender for the true purpose of Theirland. Maybe? But no. Whatever the treasure was, it would paint Cured in a bad light to Ember’s way of thinking. There was no other reason she would tell me to search out such information.
In the commons, I grabbed a meal bar.
“Shouldn’t we get a break after the return trip?” Juniper mumbled, at my side as we headed to class.
“I doubt a murderous feeder will take your need for a nap into account,” Lark quipped from in front of us.
We entered the gym, other trainees arriving seconds later. The starting bell sounded, and we scrambled into a semblance of a formation.
Mykal swept in and called, “The HP is otherwise engaged and will miss this morning’s warm-up. You’ll keep Sunday’s schedule today and run laps while evaluating your own performance in Theirland. Be sure to list areas you need to improve. There will be a test during your actual evaluation, and those who fail it will disqualify themselves from the title of top soldier.” After blowing us a kiss, she skipped from the room, disregarding the discordant chorus of groans, complaints, and cheers.
A twinge of bitterness tempted me to anger. Something big must’ve happened to prevent the HP from being here. He needed to improve his chance of winning his precious contest, after all.
He could’ve, say, gotten in trouble for eating the berry.
No, no. Silly supposition. I bet he was in medical, getting his injured cheek repaired. Or celebrating his success with the powers that be.
“You heard her. Run laps and contemplate your failures,” a knight commanded.
I did exactly that, intending to present the HP with a more detailed evaluation than the one I’d given him in Theirland.