Page 25 of Kingdom of Tomorrow
When trouble comes, your victory is found within the book.
—The Book of Soal1.14.15.4
A shrill alarm startled me from a light doze. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake, I blinked open burning eyes and sat up, expecting to see my plants. A buzz sounded, surprising me, and the shackle on my wrist opened. The barred door opened, too, and memories flashed like neon signs. The Royal Academy. The HP. My first loss. I rubbed my eyes and groaned.
Mykal kicked off her blanket, grumbling, “Five o’clock wake-up is a punishment, isn’t it?”
A surge of adrenaline drove me from exhausted to wired. My first class began in thirty minutes, and I would learn the HP’s opinion of yesterday’s test.
“It’s evaluation day.” I bounded from bed and straightened the covers. “Did Roman’s dad give you pointers for surviving judgment?”
“He did, indeed. Whether we agree or not, we’re to sayyes, sir;thank you, sir; and nothing else.”
Figured. “Any other advice I should know?”
“Only that we’re to inform a superior immediately if we see a red circle with seven broken lines inside it. It means we’ve been tapped by the Tome Society.”
I inwardly recoiled, repulsed by the very idea. “I will absolutely tell,” I swore, gathering my toiletries.
She leaned closer to murmur, “Do you think there’s any truth to the claims? About Soal, the library, books about our futures, and the sleeping gods, I mean.”
How could she even ask that? “Not even a little.” Wait. “Doyouthink there’s any truth to the claims?”
“Absolutely not.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though I admit it would be kinda nice to read a book about my future.”
“Not if it means being infected.”
“Good point.”
We trudged into the hall, other teammates heading in the same direction.
Roman bounded past us with a whoop. “This is a new day. A fresh start. Let’s make it count.” He pumped his fist into the air. “I expect your best, understand? No slackers.”
Rolling her eyes, Mykal linked her arm through mine. “See? He’s insufferable.”
“I heard that,” Roman said, performing a full spin to point at her.
“Because she wanted you to hear it,” I quipped, and she nodded.
At the corner, boys veered left, and girls right. We entered a sterile gray locker room, with toilet stalls on one side and shower stalls on the other. A bay of lockers bore our names and contained changes of clothing.
After washing up, I brushed my teeth and dressed in clean fatigues. Eleven minutes until class. Just enough time to grab a quick breakfast.
A rumpled Lark breezed past me as I tied my boots. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words died. There wasn’t anything I could say that wouldn’t cause problems. I didn’t trust her, wasn’t sure I liked her, and had no doubts she felt the same way about me.
She offered me a too-sweet smile. “No hard feelings.”
Uh, hard feelings. Definitely. However, for the good of the team—top lady, top lady, top lady—I forgave her. And because, despite mynot-so-high opinion of her, I did understand her reasoning. Panic Girl wasn’t strong and courageous. She froze when terrified and crumpled often.
“I’m good,” I said. “As our team leader pointed out, today is a clean slate.” On my end, at least. With LarkandRoman. He’d done what he’d thought was right to win, just as I had. It wasn’t his fault my choice had ended in failure.
Lark didn’t look as if she believed me, but she moved along. Mykal and I shared a relieved look before heading to the commons, where we wolfed down meal bars, the only food available. Unsatisfied but full, we made our way to gym C. The spacious arena had concrete walls and a dizzying mosaic across 90 percent of the floor. My heartbeat accelerated, my hasty breakfast settling with the finesse of a rock as soon as I noticed the HP.
He stood off to the side, in front of a small office with glass walls, a small table, and a chair on each side. His powerful presence sucked all the oxygen from the room. With his features set in inflexible lines, he revealed none of his emotions, and it sent my buzzing nerves into a tailspin.
Two armed soldiers flanked the door, with a third standing at the HP’s side.
He hadn’t noticed me yet. Not that I was anything special to him, other than the girl who’d turned him down. I didn’t mean to, but I deepened my study of him. He exhibited complete control, keeping his chin up and his brand on full display. His shoulders remained squared, his arms anchored behind his back, and his legs braced apart. A plain white T-shirt, camouflage pants, and combat boots hugged his muscular frame. How was he so scaryandso attractive?
