"It felt like a song with missing notes," she said.
"Show me what you mean by that."
She leaned forward, hair falling over her shoulder.
"I don't know if I can recreate it," she said, uncertainty replacing the confidence from moments ago. "During the crisis, I was just reacting."
"Try."
She reached toward the stone, then hesitated. "What happens if I do something wrong?"
"The training stones are designed with safeguards. The worst you'll experience is unconsciousness and a severe headache when you wake up." He positioned himself across from her, ready to observe. "Unlike last night, we have controlled conditions."
"Controlled." She smiled slightly, fingers hovering just above thestone's surface. "Right. Because everything about this situation feels completely under control."
"Touch the stone," he said, his voice dropping to command. "Show me what you can do."
XX.
BRYNN
She looked at the practice stone, then back at him. His eyes were focused entirely on her, watching for any sign of the unusual ability he believed she possessed. The weight of his attention was both intimidating and oddly reassuring. If something went wrong, he was clearly prepared to handle it.
Though what exactly he'd do remained an open question. Catch her? Save her? Or just note how she failed for future reference?
"What do you want me to do exactly?"
"Touch it. Tell me what you sense. Don't try to change anything yet. Just observe."
She reached out slowly, her fingertips touching the warm stone surface. The instant her skin made contact, sensation surged through her. A complex web of information that felt almost like music made tangible.
"It's..." She paused, searching for words for something she'd never experienced before. "Like hearing a melody, but feeling it instead. There are patterns, rhythms, connections that flow in specific directions."
His shadows leaned closer, responding to his focus. She could feel them hovering near her hands. "What kind of patterns?"
"Complicated ones. Like..." She closed her eyes, concentrating onthe sensations flowing through her fingertips. "Like a river with multiple currents, but some of the channels are blocked or flowing in the wrong direction."
She explored the stone's magical structure with her senses, following the pathways of power as they wound through its crystalline matrix. The sensation was intimate somehow, like reading the stone's innermost workings.
Unlike the ward-lock she'd repaired, this one felt genuinely hostile, as if it were actively working against itself, fighting its own nature with self-destructive intensity. Even without looking, she could sense the discordant energy it was generating. Like nails on a chalkboard, but magical.
"This feels wrong," she said, opening her eyes. "Angry, almost."
"It's designed to simulate the kind of corruption we've been finding in the damaged ward-locks. Multiple cascade points that amplify instability." He watched her reaction, and she noticed how his shadows retreated slightly from the stone's surface. Even they didn't like it. "Can you sense what's causing it?"
She pressed her palms more firmly against the corrupted stone's surface, immediately feeling the aggressive instability of its magical patterns. The sensation was unpleasant—jagged edges and warped angles that made her fingers ache. But beneath the chaos, she sensed the original structure. Like the ghost of what the ward was meant to be.
"The original pattern is still there," she said slowly. "Buried, but intact. Whoever corrupted this knew exactly what they were doing. They didn't destroy the foundation; they built the instability on top of it."
His gaze sharpened. She felt pinned by that focus, caught under scrutiny.
"Can you undo that kind of sabotage?"
"I think so." She started to reach deeper into the stone's structure, but his shadows wrapped around her wrist before she could commit to the work.
"I didn't say attempt it," he said sharply. "I asked if you could. There's a difference."
He pulled the shadows back, but she could still feel the lingering chill against her skin. Tension was visible in the line of his shoulders. "That corruption could overwhelm you if you approach it wrong. According to conventional theory, attempting to repair this should trigger a contained failure. Enough to knock you unconscious." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "But I'm not willing to test that theory without preparation. You need to understand the fundamentals first."
