“No offence, but we,” Kalan indicates to himself and Lyle,” have known Ever her whole life. I’m not sharing this with you before Ever. Out of respect.”
“Out of respect,” I scoff. “You should have shared before now.”
“Hey!” Kalan barges farther into the room.
“Don’t push it, Aten Ciro.” Lyle points to me, interceding. She nods to Kalan, and we all take a breath. “I’ll talk with Kalan alone. You can all wait here.” She beckons him through into the house and closes the wooden door to the room she emerged from.
“Great. Left out while the grownups talk,” Calix adds.
“Did you expect that we’d arrive and get all the answers straight away?” Crimson closes the front door and turns to her twin.
“No, I thought she’d know.”
“If she did, then that was a really good act,” Kyra adds. “I believe her.”
We all pick a spot to wait, falling into a tense silence.
As the time stretches, the room fills with scattered emotions, misting with scepticism and doubt, and I have to wonder if Kyra’s being truthful, or if it’s just Calix and Crimson I’m picking up on.
Sensing emotions and using my power still feels odd, especially here, cut off from Aslendrix’s focus. But we need every advantage.
And we’ve got more knowledge than we left Kirrasia with. We made it here and have some kind of explanation now. Something to start pulling together, and, while I’m slower here, I’m threading the possibilities together. But there are too many gaps.
Doing this back in the training residence felt wrong, but I’m not beyond stepping over that line again if it means ensuring I have every possible advantage when it comes to Ever. So, I unleash my power and push the net out towards Kalan in the next room. It’s foggy, but I can still discern two people, their energies different. Kalan’s is much stronger, and I theorise it’s because he hasn’t passed his magic through a Transference. His power might linger, although he must be nearing the time when Aslendrix will revoke her blessing, Transference or not.
My power stutters, but I push it farther until it flows towards Kalan, searching for an opening, and with one clear thought in my mind, I shove all my intent and will towards him—to influence him to open up and tell us everything he knows.
A moment later, the door separating us from Kalan and Lyle flies open.
“Which one of you is the Guard?” Kalan bellows, staring at each of us in turn.
Oh, shit!
“No, not you two. Aster’s kids—Warriors through and through. So, you.” He turns his attention to Kyra.
“I’m the Guard.” I stand and close the distance, ready to face off against him if I must.
“Ciro, a Guard?” he questions.
“That’s a long story.”
“Well, you haven’t learned from your mother. I could feel you inside my head. Be careful who you pull that shit on, or there might be hell to pay.”
I don’t apologise, and I don’t back down. My hand clenches, and I think about the knife at my back, but Kalan’s shoulders relax.
“Come on. Lyle’s fixing supper. I’ll explain what I can. I’m not going to share everything, regardless of what you want,” he gives me a glance, “but there are things you need to know.”
“How noble of you,” Crimson’s words drip with sarcasm.
“That mouth isn’t going to help you against Fenix, deary.” He shoots Crimson down.
We all watch her as her face glows red with rage, aimed at him. He just chuckles and turns back into the room he was in.
Calix blocks Crimson with his arm to stop her from shooting after him. “If he’s got information, we need him on our side, so play nice.”
“I didn’t know Crimson could play nice,” Kyra quips. And I thought they were getting along. Just as I start to worry, the girls give each other a wicked grin.
“Not helping. Come on.” I follow after Kalan.
