Chapter Three
Precedence
Hendry’s mouth opens to respond as I do the one thing I promised I never would and manipulate my Guards’ emotions, needing to convince them to allow me out of their sight so that the Sergeant may grow less defensive.
I imbue each of them with trust and siphon their fears, then wait to learn if they will give us a semblance of privacy.
“The best I can offer is to stand on the other side of this,” Hendry says, pointing to the canvas partition running the length of the tent, calmer now that his fears have been digested.
Sergeant Varic and I watch as each of my Guards step behind the thin canvas, providing me with more privacy than I’ve experienced in decades.
“They break their vow so easily?” Sergeant Varic asks, brow quirking.
“If you are concerned for my safety, I can assure you Malin’s telekinetic abilities are so sensitive, he knows what you mean to do before you do.
” I narrow my eyes in challenge, when I should be focusing on building a connection if I am to convince anyone that I truly tried to save him.
“Lars’ speed is faster than you can blink.
Fray is capable of flying me higher than the tallest tower before you can pull in your next breath.
Hendry’s strength in force magic is second only to yours and is capable of creating an impenetrable force-shield in less than a second.
And Cirrin can imbue me with nearly unending energy, while also being capable of healing most flesh wounds. ”
“I am only capable of healing what is there, so since I am unable to reattach limbs or add blood which has been spilled from your body, please don’t do anything drastic with the expectation that my magic can fix it.
” Cirrin’s voice is riddled with concern, so I send my magic to draw his anxious energy from him as the need to relieve his panic swirls through me.
Despite my efforts, the concerns seem to take over, as is their habit, with his fear expanding to inhabit the entirety of his chest cavity despite my siphoning of his distress.
The Sergeant’s eyes stare vacantly forward as if lost in a memory.
“You don’t understand—” His voice cracks, and his sorrow-filled eyes flick up to mine.
“You weren’t there.” The haunting quality of his expression is chilling as I study him, shaken with the realization that he is haunted by all the atrocities he’s been forced to perform.
Like me.
“You’re right; I wasn’t there,” I speak in low, soothing tones, the same way Cirrin speaks to me through my own despair with the same damned experience.
“The only way I can try to understand is if you let me.” My expression is imploring, my way of manipulating without the use of emotions, having had years of practice at morphing my face to please others.
The Sergeant seems to war with himself, having so little time to shift the belief that I am here to force him to think he wants to live longer than this.
“So, Sergeant Varic, are you going to impede me, or will you allow me entrance?”
His face falls, and my heart hammers with how forcefully I am pushing him, when those impossibly bright brown irises flick up to mine, throwing an undulating wave of color my way—an array of emotion he should not possess the ability to share directly with me.
A wave that should have been partially blocked by—
My wards.
Eyes widening, I stare at the sorcerer rewriting all I thought I knew.
He’s disarmed me somehow. He’s done something to keep me from warding him out.
That protective wall I rely on is missing as a barrage of emotions slam into my being.
They force my body to become a vessel, absorbing all he’s been made to contain past the point any being should.
Anger, despair, grief, and shame—all of it laid bare—as he holds nothing back, revealing all his terrors to me.
Brightness flickers behind his irises as the wave separates into individual streams extending from his chest, creating a connection unlike any I’ve ever experienced.
One hand rises to clasp at my chest as tears stream in torrents of overwhelm from all he sends to me, even though I am known to tolerate far more than any one being was meant to be capable of keeping.
He’s feeling too much at once. He has me entrapped in this kaleidoscopic vortex—a roiling rainbow—undulating and spiraling out of control.
The muscles in my legs give out, forcing me to the mattress beside him with the need to brace myself on something to take on the aggressive onslaught of emotion.
Pulling in deep breaths of his warm spice scent—just distinct enough from the woody incense wafting around us, with notes of nutmeg and clove—it draws me in as I stoop closer toward him, grounding me in this space as I try to take all he is sharing.
This sorcerer contains too much. How is it he’s still breathing?
Awe envelops my chest as I marvel at his ability to hold the densest, most intense inner turmoil I’ve yet to encounter in anyone other than myself. It is no wonder he does not wish to live, since it is nothing short of a miracle he is, having felt what it is like to die from overwhelm like this.
Knowing of only one other who has survived such a noxious mix of emotions.
Only one who has found a way to survive with so much trapped inside.
That other being…is me.
Sergeant Varic slumps forward, asking, “How did you do that? How did you push past my wards?”
“I didn’t push past anything,” I assure him. “You sent it to me.”
He twists to face me, and I balk, feeling strangely naked and vulnerable, as if his eyes see straight into my soul.
“You disarm me,” he whispers, as a new deluge of emotions courses over me, forming a wave like a tsunami.
Oh, Gods.
No. I cannot take any more of this.
Yet these are not the Sergeant’s emotions. They do not bear his signature.
Instead, it is so much worse, as their deep green means these are my own.
I suck in a sharp breath, and my lungs sting as the next wave drags me under so deeply it darkens my vision, leaving me to scramble for purchase within the riotous waters, grasping for anything to dam this deluge from filling me up further.
Panic pools in my chest as my magic fails to find a spark of calm, peace, or joy—anything to put a stop to this torment.
“Tasch,” Hendry says from somewhere above the surface while the Sergeant’s eyebrows rise in apparent shock at his casual use of my name without the title first.
I raise a hand in command as I tell him, “No.”
His presence looms closer as the undertow drags me within the ocean made up of everything I’ve needed to avoid.
Amber glimmers in my periphery, and I turn to the shimmering force-shield Hendry trudges toward, unable to see it the way I can, furrowing his brow once he smacks into it and bounces backward.
Concern for his well-being rises as he rubs his head, effectively pulling me back from the tumultuous ocean I was lost within.
Hendry glares from me to the Sergeant before yanking the canvas barrier back to ask, “Why didn’t you warn me, Malin?”
“You expected me to warn you not to walk headfirst into a force-shield Sergeant Varic placed after Tasch told you ‘no’, which I took to mean ‘stop’, as in ‘stop advancing toward me’?” Malin’s voice is riddled with derision.
“Wait.” Sergeant Varic turns in the direction of where my telekinetic Guard stands just on the other side of the partition. “Imperial Guard Malin, you’re able to sense my shield?”
“Yes,” Malin answers matter-of-factly.
All color drains from Sergeant Varic’s face. “No telekinetic has ever been able to sense my force-shield. Only my energy when I charge it to either blast or obliterate.” He swallows harshly and appears as if he is going to be sick.
I reach for him, then pause midway between our bodies when Hendry bangs his fists against the barrier of the force-shield.
“I can see it,” I blurt out, eyes widening in shock at the uncharacteristic expulsion from a witch so practiced at keeping in my thoughts.
“You can see it?” Sergeant Varic asks.
“It’s amber—like your eyes, only not as bright.” My cheeks heat with the bemused shift in his expression as he presses his lips together while a flush blossoms across his own cheekbones.
“What the fuck, Sergeant Varic?” Hendry asks, pounding his fists against the impenetrable wall. “I understand your magic is stronger than mine, but do you really have to show off like this?”
“You think I need to cast my shield to show off?”
“Why else would you prevent me from protecting my charge?”
“‘Your charge,’” Varic scoffs, before muttering, “Fucking snatchers.”
My heart drops to my stomach with the way he so casually calls Hendry the worst thing one can be referred to in our Empire—a being who takes that which does not belong to them, though one could argue our Emperor does so regularly.
Sergeant Varic shakes his head as he glares up at Hendry. “Does everyone treat her like property? Or is it just you and the Emperor?”
My heart slams against my ribs, with my own emotional assault preventing me from calming everyone in the tent.
“Imperial Lead Guard Hendry,” Lars says, pulling back the partition. “I think it’s time—”
Hendry holds out a hand toward him. “I will determine when it is time, thank you.”
Lars releases a breath in frustration as his gaze falls to me, and I nod back to let him know I am fine before he returns the gesture, then disappears behind the canvas.
Hendry stands tall and faces the Sergeant.
“I understand why you’re envious of my role.
Especially considering the Emperor would have appointed you in my stead had we any way of knowing the strength of your power before I took the vow.
But your magic didn’t prove its potential until afterward, so now you must bide your time until I die in order to be granted the honor of the role I have been given. ”
Varic moves down the bed, grazing his arm against my own. Sparks scatter across my skin as he faces Hendry, with his jaw feathering.