Large hazel eyes in a familiar face, far younger than the one before me right now, fills my mind. Pain, sorrow, and anger move through me. I release the hold of my shadows, andthe images fall away. When the present surroundings rebuild around me, Ava is on the ground, her chest heaving as though the wind has been knocked out of her. Chiyo is at her side.
A deep tremor runs through my body, energy seeming to drain from me even though I’m still seated on the ground. An eerily familiar pressure builds in my head, squeezing my throat … It’s almost suffocating. I force down a deep breath.
Tiernan kneels beside me. “Are you alright?”
I nod and refocus on Ava as the woman shoves Chiyo’s arm away and unsteadily gets to her feet. Her eyes are wide, homed in on me. I shrink beneath her gaze, but then her eyes soften, and she says, “Whatever you just did. Don’t forget it.” She rubs at her arm, her sternum, a faraway look in her eyes.
“Whatdidyou do?” Tiernan signs.
“I—I’m not sure. I saw …” I glance at Ava, who looks more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her. She rolls some of her braids into a pile atop her head, securing it with a gossamer black scarf as her gaze sears me. I’ll keep what I saw to myself; it isn’t my place to share her trauma with others.
“I saw a memory. And I suppose … I wielded it?” I say.
Chiyo’s jaw drops. “Shit, Durvla. Just when I thought I couldn’t love you any more than I do.”
I … don’t know how to react.
Ava sighs. “Had we known you could do this before …” A muscle feathers in her cheek. She tucks another braid into the scarf and jerks her chin toward Tiernan. “Practice on your man.”
I glance at Tiernan, who pales, and my heart sinks. I can’t do that to him—we’re hardly even on speaking terms at the moment.
Chiyo waves to catch my attention and says, “What about on me? Or Isobel? Or Sloan?” Bless her for trying to spare me the awkwardness of this.
Ava shakes her head. “No. Tiernan is the Mind Whisperer and the Empath. They’re a match made for this twisted situation. Tiernan, you know how mind magics work … use it.”
I press my hands over my cheeks as if it could stop the heat from infiltrating. I half expect Tiernan to look away, but he doesn’t. Our gazes align, and there are so many emotions in his face, in the tension of his posture … I can’t handle it with everyone looking at us.
I turn to walk away, but Tiernan’s hand lands lightly on my shoulder. I face him, though the movement is a little too quick for my head. But I don’t allow him to see the dizziness that immediately sets my vision wavering.
Until he signs something, and I miss what he says. I close my eyes and his hand envelops mine, giving it a little squeeze. His expression is drawn with worry when I look at him again. “What do you need?”
I tug my hand away. “Nothing.” I’ve tried so hard to connect with him, while he’s hardly told me anything about himself. Yes, I know about Maura, but that’s the extent of things.
He steps a little closer. “Can we talk? Privately? Or do you need me to drop to my knees right here in front of everyone and beg your forgiveness? I will, you know.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners, but I avert my gaze. I sense a shift in my peripheral vision. Then … Oh gods, he’s not really?—
“Tiernan, no,” I say, grabbing his arms as he’s about to take a knee.
He pauses mid-kneel and straightens up again. Though he maintains a straight face, his lips twitch, dark eyes twinkling. I scowl at him to keep from laughing at his restrained amusement.
“We can talk. Just, please don’t draw any more unnecessary attention to us.”
My hands are still gripping his biceps, and he’s standing so close, his head inclined to mine. I want to kiss him and tell him everything’s fine.
I release him. I can’t keep sweeping the unpleasant moments under the rug. Without another word, we walk off together, stepping away from the others and behind scraggly bushes that barely provide any privacy.
Tiernan draws in a deep breath and runs his hand down his face before sitting in the gravelly dirt and patches of grass. I sit in front of him when prompted.
“I never wanted to shut you out,” he signs gently. “I just …” He hesitates, his hand moving to the side of his neck where the scar mars his otherwise smooth, fair skin. “You accidentally walked into my dream back in Paramount, and other times since,” he motions. “I’d like to willingly let you in. To show you my past.”
I try not to look surprised, but my brows lift of their own volition. “Are you certain? I’m not even sure if I can?—”
He takes my hand and kisses my fingers before pressing my palm against the scar vining up his neck. His eyes close, and I allow myself a brief moment to admire the contours of his face, the stubbly line of his jaw. There are more silver streaks in his hair now than when I’d first met him.
With a deep breath, I close my eyes and lower my shields, letting his magic flow through me as surely as I let mine flow through him. Our powers twine around each other, his warm aura mingling with my shadows and stars, and slowly I tumble into his past, into the Fortress on the Mount.
Tiernan is dressed in the brown livery of the Royal Brigade, his hair cut short, only the beginnings of silver at his temple. There’s a smile on his face and warmth in his eyes. His fingers lace with those of a tan-skinned woman, her hair like the darkest copper tied back with black ribbon. Maura, like Tiernan, wearsthe Royal Brigade uniform with a sword strapped securely to her hip. Her regalia lacks the badges displayed on Tiernan’s chest, but her body language shows no hint of subordination. They chat with Alys, whose hair is more pepper than salt but her face is otherwise unchanged from the Alys I know.
