He cut her off, his face serious. “I wouldn’t read you without permission.”
“No, of course you wouldn’t,” she said quickly. He didn’t pry – he hadn’t once asked how she felt about bringing an Arcalon teammate back to his death. How would she even answer? “Can someone protect their mind from it?”
He raised a brow. “Planning to keep secrets from me already?”
“Maybe I’d just like a fair fight.” She tried to make it teasing, light.
He considered her before he answered. “Some people naturally have minds like open doors. Others... you have to break against their barriers to get in. But yes, mental shielding can be taught.”
“I’d like to learn – if only to be able to return the favour,” she smiled at him.
Henry leaned back on one hand, studying her over the firelight. “It’s dangerous,” he said eventually. “Not reading fleeting thoughts, that’s generally harmless. But if you go too deep, you can injure someone’s mind, even your own.” He paused. “Permanent damage that emerald can’t heal.”
She looked away. “If you don’t think it’s a good idea, you don’t have to.”
He tilted his head. “Hmm... but I thought you wanted to know what I’m thinking about you.”
When she looked up, he was smiling at her. A blush rose up her cheeks and she forced a laugh to cover how uncomfortable it made her. “So, will you teach me or not?”
“Okay,” he said. “The basics. Though we’re not really encouraged to dabble outside our own gifts. Most are told to master one path, not chase another.”
Kara knew that, her father had told her that her whole life.
“Still you’re Hale,” Henry said. “Air-born like me. It should come easier.”
He shifted closer to sit directly opposite her. The fire threw light across his face, catching the faint dimple in his cheek.
“Let’s do it,” he said once he was comfortable.
She blinked. “You mean right now–”
“I’ll keep my thoughts simple. Think of it like listening for a voice in another room. You’re just leaning closer.”
She hesitated, curling her hands in her lap. “And if I hear something I don’t want to?”
“Then you stop.” His tone was matter-of-fact.
Kara swallowed, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She opened her palms and called for her magic, feeling its familiar warmth inside her. Only this time, instead of reaching towards flesh and muscle, to heal, she reached for thought.
It was disorientating. Like trying to read a blurred scroll by candlelight. At first, she could only hear the sounds of their breath. She couldn’t pick anything out, never mind a specific thought.
“You can do this, Kara,” Henry said encouragingly.
She urged her magic deeper and at the edge of her consciousness, only faint, there was a whisper that wasn’t hers.
“Good,” Henry said. “Don’t chase it. Let it come to you.”
The whisper sharpened, and a fragment of thought broke through.
She’s better at this than she thinks.
She gasped. It wasn’t her voice. The shock snapped her eyes open – only for her to find her usual emerald light gone, replaced by a pale, silvery mint that hovered at Henry’s temples. The sight tugged her fully back into herself.
Henry smiled. “See? The basics.”
“I heard you,” she said, half-breathless.
“Yes. First time as well,” he said approvingly.
