Finally, Felix asked, “Can I see?”
The question took August by surprise, and he looked up with a frown. “What do you mean? How would you see?”
“When I listen to someone’s thoughts,” he explained, “I can pick up on the insubstantial ideas swirling in their minds, like catching fragments of a conversation. But if they’re picturing something and I concentrate really hard, I can see it. Sort of.” A small crease formed between his brows. “It’s like a hazy memory of a dream playing in my head. Marlow and I have tried it a few times. I think perhaps if you picture one of those things, I might be able to see it.”
To August’s surprise, he found himself actually considering it. Listening was prohibited. It was dangerous and wrong, and Felix shouldn’t have been using it. But August trusted him.
“You’d only see the anchored? Nothing else? You couldn’t, like—” he gestured widely around his head, “—poke around in there?”
Felix narrowed his eyes. “How many more secrets are you keeping?”
“No, it’s not that. I just, my thoughts are . . . ”A mess, he finished silently.
“I can only see what you’re focusing on. Nothing else.”
“And you’re sure you want to see them?”
Felix’s grin was radiant. “Oh, I am yeah.” He shifted over to make room on the bench. “Come here.”
He turned slightly, his metal leg draped off the bench, the other tucked in beneath him as August joined, sitting cross-legged and close so they faced each other. Felix still carried the rich scent of the stew with faint traces of cinnamon from the hot chocolate.
“Alright,” Felix said, eyes bright with barely contained excitement. The air trembled faintly. “Think about one of them.”
August closed his eyes and pulled in a steadying breath, hoping Felix couldn’t hear the hammering of his heart.
This was such a terrible idea.
Anchored existed. That fact was already staggering. But August’s power, this incredible magic Felix had never even heard of, made him feral with curiosity. He wanted to know everything about it. To know everything about August. He wanted to dive into his head and soak in this new information like a warm bath.
He placed his open hand gently on the side of August’s head, thumb pressed against his temple.
August’s breath hitched, and Felix quickly pulled away.
“You’re sure you’re alright with this?”
August gave a small nod, his eyes on his lap. “I just need a second to focus.”
“I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
A few breaths later, he looked up, his grey eyes causing a flutter in Felix’s chest.
“Ready.”
Felix returned his hands to August’s head, closed his eyes, and flared his magic. The warmth of it spread through his veins, tingling beneath his skin.
At once, there was the shape of a child, and though it was a hazy, blurred image. The boy stared at him—at August, really. He looked nothing like what Felix had expected. No fog or nightmarish features. Just a boy made up of varying shades of grey.
Then the boy opened his mouth to talk, and black trickled from the corner of his mouth. Felix cringed.
Alright, that’s unpleasant.
“Play with me,” the boy said. His voice was strange, barely there.
“Leave me alone.” August responded. He sounded much younger.
“That’s rude,” the other boy replied. “You used to play. Why did you stop?”
“Please,” August’s voice quavered. “Go away.”
