Stide and Thessa exchange glances but do not weigh in. I suppose in a discussion of magical powers, they have little to add.
Kyor’s voice cuts through my thoughts. ‘Regardless of whetherthoseTorailians are following us, everyone needs to stay sharp on watchtonight. We’re in disputed lands. Elska will go hunting and see if she can find something fresh for us to eat.’
I’ll go with Els, Fen suggests casually.The pair of us hunt well together.
Sure, I agree easily.Enjoy the hunt.
I can feel the anticipation humming through him as he sets off.
We make the camp quickly, the routine helping settle us as we do our respective chores with ease.
‘Hey,’ I say to Kyor. ‘Fen said Zelle used to sing a song in his head to distract the Torailians.’
He smirks suddenly. ‘The one with the cork?’
‘You know it? Will you sing it to me? I thought Fen might like it if I learned it for him. You know, to show that Zelle will always matter.’
Heat suddenly flushes his cheeks. ‘Uh, it’s a sweet idea, but it’s not really suitable for a lady’s ears.’
‘Kyor, I lived in theslums. There is nothing you can say that will shock me.’
He shrugs, face still warm. ‘Uh, I can’t really remember it, sorry.’ He pointedly turns back to the fire.
Now my interest is well and truly sparked. One way or another, I’m learning that song.
But I let it go. For now. I have other things to worry about.
Once the fire is blazing, I confront the monster in the room. ‘So apparently I’m a little bit Torailian, too.’
‘It changes nothing,’ Ruben says instantly. ‘You’re you. That’s all that matters.’
‘They have magic,’ Benny notes, his voice slightly disbelieving. ‘The Torailians have magic.’
Ruben frowns. ‘What do you mean? They didn’t do any magic at all.’
‘Mental magic,’ I explain. ‘They can talk to one another silently in their heads, co-ordinate effortlessly, and apparently … they can read our minds.’
‘It’s how you could communicate with the kraken,’ Benny says, looking at me as things click into place for him. ‘Residual magic, my arse.’
I smile faintly at that. ‘Sorry we had to bullshityou back then, but if it’s any consolation, we didn’t know what the fuck was going on, besides the fact that I’d developed the ability to talk to a kraken.’
Stide’s eyes go wide. ‘The Rose, youspoketo a kraken?’
‘It was a pretty one-sided conversation,’ I admit wryly. ‘Anyway, I … I think I get the telepathy from my father. He could always tell when Mother was just around the corner, always knew when Kay and I were up to mischief. Could follow us in the woods, no matter where we went. And his emotions …’
I close my eyes. Because now the implications hit me fully. Did he lose his Torailian magic with his Morathkian powers? Were both ripped away, or only the ones the High Priestess knew of? Because if he could still read minds – or even just feel the emotions flooding us – then he would have known my thoughts.
Known the times I needed him to come back for us and battled the sting of disappointment when he couldn’t.
Known the times I wished he was dead. Wished he wasn’t a burden.
I feel sick. With the horror. With theguilt.
Thoughts aren’t meant to be heard and feelings not meant to be felt by others. They’re private. That’s why we havespeech. The time it takes for thoughts to get from brain to mouth is used to soften and modulate the harsh realities of our feelings, which are far more basic and primitive than anyone would ever admit to.
‘Excuse me,’ I mutter, suddenly overwhelmed by the need for space. Without so much as a backward glance, I stride away from the relative safety of the fire and closer to the tug in me which saysFen.
I’ll never know for sure, I realise. I’ll never know if Father still had his Torailian magic. But he … he gambled sometimes. And he won when he did. He didn’t play frequently, but when he did … he always won.
