I wondered if he would join our next council meeting.
I hoped he would.
Chapter 17
Sybilla
Aman selling fruit from a cart straightened and glanced around, uneasily.Caught.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
Ryn and I sat on a bench in the Umber House courtyard. I blew curls from my face, convinced I’d never learn how to access the minds of others unnoticed.
“No one is perfect after just a few days of training, Princess. Keep trying.” He rambled on. “There are front entrances of the mind and back entrances—the front, most Source-wielders canfeelwhensomeone with Reverist magic is accessing them. My guess is you have no idea which way you’re getting in.”
“This all sounds oddly sexual,” I mused, and Ryn cracked a laugh.
I was glad for the large umbrella he had placed in a base beside us. The courtyard was bustling with people, most of whom were visiting the produce markets, which had fewer hot-food vendors than at night.The heat was too stifling.
“Itissort of like having your brain caressed,” he said, wiggling his brow in a way that made me smirk. “It’s how I could tell you were in there when we met. However, it’s said that skilled Reverists of the past could access the mind through less obvious entries...poke around a bit.”
We spent an hour like that—he would point to an unsuspecting person in the bustling crowd and tell me to focus on the threads of their mind and find all the access points. Once he’d helped me visualize it that way, it became easier to determine when I’d failed.
A woman pulling her toddler by hand behind her quickly scooped up the child, looking shaken.I’d gotten it wrong.
The tune of a mandolin stopped, and the musician’s brow furrowed. Wrong again.
I began to pick up on the subtle differences between threads—my mind had never felt clearer, even if I was failing at the exercise. To know how not to just be a passenger in the minds of others was refreshing.
I decided to try one more time on Ryn.
Ryn wiped his brow and muttered, “I can’t wait for the first rain.”
“Why’s that?” I asked. He still hadn’t noticed me there, slipping into his head.
“It’s a night of debauchery, and I could use a good fuck to get her off my mind.”His unspoken words made me smirk. He answered, “It typically brings a short cold front, some reprieve. And a natural reason to drink and celebrate. There’s usually a festival.”
“Lovely. And who are you trying to get off your mind?”
Ryn’s eyes widened. “You did it!”
My smile widened at his excitement.
“Now try that again on someoneelse—stay out of here. I assure you my love life is not all that interesting.”
I doubted that but laughed anyway. My next few attempts failed.
As the sun became too hot to bear, I sighed. “Where is Darvanda this morning?”
“Miss him?” Ryn said in jest.
I scoffed. “We’re to be married,” I blurted out, and Ryn’s posture straightened.
“You don’t say.”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
He smiled and said, “He is addressing some cases—there was a murder in Sahlmkar while he was gone and some complex land disputes we needed him to weigh in on.”
