“If you cannot give me magic, you must let me in to take it. I will not read your thoughts, only pull,” Xan said. “We can’t find her through the tether alone. We need my mental powers.”
We sat in a circle, crossed knees almost brushing.
“I’m trying, Xan.” His nickname slipped out between my lips so easily.
His hand settled on my knee, and his mind slid against mine; cold, unyielding power wrapped in hunger. A cold knot twisted deep in my gut. My Prophet’s Majekah was only illusions, but with words alone, he’d remade reality to serve him. I’d danced as his puppet without ever knowing. The Architect didn’t need words to pull the same strings.
But would he?
He’d messed up, but I was the one who made him a monster, because otherwise, I’d have to face the monster inside of me.
“I can’t.” Fucking tears slid down my cheeks. “I don’t want you to see what I’ve done.”
Xan squeezed my knee. “I won’t see anything. I’m taking your magic and our love for Quinn and praying my mental net goes far enough to find her.”
I looked up, and Xan nodded encouragingly.
“Three minds are better than one,” he reasoned. “Something’s physically keeping her from us. Likely a slaver’s collar. It’s one of the few things in this world that can block a tether.” Xan grimaced. “Collars are only as powerful as the mentalist who made them and the people who keyed them. Quinn’s surrounded by strangers who think they are stronger than us. They. Are. Not.”
Rowan’s massive palm landed on my other knee. “You know better now. You’ll do better now. Don’t let Quinn spend another night away from us.”
My resistance cracked, and Xan’s mind surged in. Xan’s and Rowan’s magic wrapped around me, creating a storm of light blue, white, and forest green. For a moment, bliss lifted me, belonging I’d never known flooding in.
“Look for her now,” the Architect’s command thundered out of him in deep, rich layers.
I pictured Quinn: strong and stubborn, dense as a rock yet somehow more intelligent than all of us. She looked beyond herself. She didn’t hide from her past; she embraced it and made it her own.
A pair of cerulean-blue eyes, so pure blue they hurt, appeared in the swirling colors and bore into me. Agony shot through my mind, stabbing through my skull, fingers tearing into my brain as pressure built to breaking. I was going to die. Something was eating my brain.
The pain stopped as if it had never existed. Suddenly, I wasn’t in the Alun anymore. A room of gray surrounded me. I had my hand resting on something warm and metal on my neck. I didn’t look up. A familiar wrinkled hand slid toward me.
“You are so stubborn. Just kiss my hand. I don’t need more. Yet. A token of your sincerity, and you can eat.”My Prophet’s voice burned my ears.
When I looked up, the caring mask he wore vanished. He gripped the back of my neck and pulled me forward, studying my eyes.
A laugh ripped out of his throat, and he threw me backward.“I can’t break you, can I? But I know who can.”
Pain lanced up my arm from the tattoo on my wrist. I was ripped from Quinn’s mind and landed back in my own body. My Prophet’s need for me to return home literally burned my flesh, adding to the already stuffy stink of the Alun.
My family had her.
A headache split my skull, the phantom fingers returning to claw at my mind. Rage boiled my blood. Had Xan lied to me?
I was two seconds from decking the man before catching his baby-blue gaze. No. The eyes I saw were much darker. Xan hadn’t looked through my thoughts.
There was more here, yet another layer I didn’t understand.
He and Rowan chatted as if whatever we’d just done failed. While my head throbbed, they looked utterly unaffected. What the fuck was going on?
Too slowly, I drew a healing rune and forced my thoughts to line up. I only knew one thing for sure: my Prophet had her. Guilt and anger filled my entire body. My Prophet spent years perfecting his skills. Every person in that compound believed what they were doing was right. Quinn was utterly alone.
Rowan and Xan were still talking, but their words couldn’t get through my thoughts. My tattoo burned again, and my family’s post chaise flashed in my mind, along with a creeping sense of soon.
I would do what my Prophet asked. He’d seen my eyes in Quinn’s; that was the only explanation. And now we both knew who had control over the situation.
Xan waved his hands in front of my face. “Did you see something?”
I met his gaze. All of this was my fault. If I’d kept my distance from Quinn and controlled myself… but it was too late for that. If Xan knew, he’d want to lead a rescue mission immediately. But his forces were spread thin and no match for my compound’s defenses.
