“The Anima enters the human body and”—Luna paused as if to search for a word—“sits alongside the human soul.”
“No,” Wren said, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. One of me is more than enough in here.”
“It requires significant Aetheric manipulation, especially if the human is unwilling. First for the joining, and then to ensure the Anima can control the human.”
“I doubt Innis was willing,” I said. “He looked like he was fighting it.”
“Possession has long been a tool of cruelty,” Luna signed.
“Will he heal?” I asked.
“He has suffered a violation,” Luna said, sadness in her eyes. “He can heal, if he is willing. But the magic may leave a mark.”
“Would the Anima willingly agree?” Wren asked.
“I would not,” Luna said. “But an Anima who was angry, or malicious, or had a vendetta against the Lys’Careths, or simply missed their physical form may agree to try. And they would be disappointed; they may control the human, but the practitioner controls the Anima.”
“So the practitioner found Innis,” I said quietly. “Maybe tried to convince him to let an Anima share his body. He says no, and the practitioner forces it.”
“It is difficult and complex magic,” Luna said. “It would take practice.”
“So this probably wasn’t the practitioner’s first working,” I said. “Or first human victim.”
“I doubt he was practicing here,” Wren said. “We’d have heard in the market if someone else had been possessed or attacked near the stronghold.”
“I agree,” Luna said. “But I’ve felt nothing of it. It was well hidden. It would require great power to hide the consequences of Aetheric manipulation this strong.”
I nodded. “The pain was worse than usual.”
She frowned, gazing above my heart. And I wondered if shecould see through to the injury beneath. To the bleeding wound, the burning fear.
“The color also seemed wrong.”
She blinked. “Color?”
“Anima look pale green to me—the color of new spring leaves. But the Aether in the market looked wrong. More like plants gone to rot.”
“So a powerful practitioner with strange magic,” Wren said. “Goody.”
“And the assassin kept disappearing,” I said, “and I saw a ripple. The Anima was taking him in and out of the Aetheric?”
Luna nodded.
“Has the Aetheric god come back?” Wren asked.
Luna shook her head. “He is not here.”
So maybe the practitioner had just been born lucky, absorbing enough Aetheric remnants to spark his powers.
“We’ve got someone powerful enough to make a human into a puppet for an Anima—and use that creature as a weapon. And who’s rich enough to hire a dozen assassins to take on a Lys’Careth. Unfortunately, there’s probably a very long list of people who’d like the prince dead.”
Wren nodded. “They didn’t manage to kill him, but they injured his soldiers and made a mess of his procession. If we’d been in a different market, and the Anima had caught them unawares, they might have succeeded.”
“So from their perspective, it almost worked. And given the work they’ve already put into this plan, they won’t give up after one attempt. They’ll try again. They’ll hurt more humans.” I looked at Luna. “And if the Anima aren’t willing, they’ll have to force more of them. If the practitioner is powerful enough tohide his magic from you, he might be able to overpower you, even if you are a Guardian.”
“He won’t touch me,” Luna assured us, her gaze meeting mine. “But he may be interested in you.”
“Me? Why?”
