Chapter 8 #3
Indeed. We had one of those minutes after we’d met. And I thought it strange, even then. ‘And you don’t usually have that with people?’
‘Not from the get-go.’ He shrugs. ‘Like with you. I mean, I sometimes have it with other Empaths, though there aren’t many of them, but it only happens with people I’m compatible with.’
I go through everything he says in my mind.
Could it be that I have hidden Empath powers, even if no one has ever identified them?
In the end, empathy is just another sensitivity to certain forms of energy.
But how does that connect to the way I can build my shields?
I feel excited about what I could be capable of, and I have questions.
Allen begins to answer them even before I speak them out.
‘It’s simply easy to communicate with you.
It feels like – how can I explain it? – as if your magic is hooking into mine.
Like you pull on my magic to make the link work.
You pulled magic from me earlier, when we came into the tent.
I could feel your rage – and then it was gone. ’
‘So that’s why I felt so instantly calmed?’ I say. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘What for?’
‘For stealing your calm.’
He snorts. ‘That’s not how it works. You just borrowed some calm from me. I have plenty to give, and it didn’t deplete me. But if I choose to, I can prevent you from feeding off my emotions.’
Allen says this as if it’s normal to have a super-special link that allows me to borrow his emotions.
‘This thing between us,’ he says, pointing between him and me, ‘it’s just symbiotic, harmonious. Don’t you feel it?’
I do. It’s so easy to just be with Allen. And I don’t even need to tell him that. He simply looks into my eyes and nods.
‘This is both confusing and enlightening at the same time,’ I say.
‘Same here,’ he says. After a pause, he continues, ‘The readings I get on your powers… It’s not a variety of Warrior magic, and it isn’t Healing either.
It doesn’t have the substance-changing properties of the Potion Masters’, nor the structure-changing ones of the Engineers.
It looks like my programme simply can’t find the right category for it. ’
My heart sinks at this. At The Citadel, the sort of power you wield defines who you are. Where you belong. I never belonged anywhere, and I so desperately want to.
Allen must sense something through our link, because he says, ‘Don’t worry.
This was just the first test. I didn’t expect to find out much about your power, as I’ve already mentioned.
’ He taps on his ART and then lays it on the ground in front of me.
‘Now send a buzz of power through it – but as if you were trying to build your shield.’
‘I hope I don’t fry your ART,’ I say.
‘That won’t happen. I’ve incorporated the same sensors that we use at The Citadel for Stella’s communication points. The most powerful Warrior can send a flow of power through them, and they won’t break.’
I do as he says, sending a wave of my crackling power. ‘Does Stella know that sensors have been … redirected towards building this particular ART?’ The question is part-joke, part-serious.
Allen smiles. ‘I don’t particularly want to know.’ He picks up the ART and starts scrolling through the results, frowning. ‘There must be a mistake,’ he says. ‘Try again.’
I do. And then again. And again. An uncanny feeling seeps into my bones. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
Allen just bites his lip. ‘Let me try something.’ He lays the ART on the ground and sends a whirl of his pink, glimmering power.
Results appear on the screen and he scrolls through them, showing them to me.
‘Do you see these diagrams? They show the gradient of powers in all the possible categories I could think of. Radiation levels, temperature, wavelength and so on.’ He scrolls through pages and pages of results.
‘This is a power profile.’ I’m quietly impressed by how Allen built a device that can deliver the same results as the huge testing machines that The Citadel uses to evaluate its people to sort them into various Apprenticeships.
‘It is,’ Allen replies.
‘What does mine look like, then?’
Allen tilts the ART towards me. There’s nothing to see.
‘It’s blank,’ I say, frowning and hoping that I’m wrong, that maybe I’m missing something that Allen isn’t.
‘Yes, Ellie. The ART tried to quantify your power four times in a row, and every time, it drew up a blank.’
‘What does that mean?’ I think of when I was tested for my Apprenticeship, but the results then didn’t come up blank. Yet, now Allen can’t find my power profile in the system. Strange.
‘Give me a sec. I’ll try to figure something out.’ Allen starts punching commands in his ART, his eyes moving rapidly as he focuses on the task. Minutes trickle by in absolute silence and I’m feeling increasingly uncomfortable.
He finally lays the device down, rubbing his eyes. ‘Let me get this straight. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, Ellie. But every time you send a punch of that power into my ART, you seem to block the sensors. Which shouldn’t be physically possible. Under any circumstances.’