“I’m in my own cell. Seems Fenix doesn’t trust me. Rightly so. But still.”
“Have you spoken with Kalan?”
Another pause, but this time it’s longer, and I’m hit with that ripple of sorrow again, though not as strong as earlier.
“There’s so much I need to tell you. Everything that happened from the moment Fenix turned up in my cell and killed Micah. All the taunts, all the threats. Everything he wants… I just wish you weren’t in a cell.”Her misery seeps into me with every one of her words, as if, as she tells me, she’s sharing a part of her pain with me.
And I’ll gladly take it all if it lessens the burden she’s carrying.
“You can tell me when we’re out. When we’re together.”
“Fenix is cunning. He’s been planning this for a long time. They stole books and records from the library at The Court. He’s got his own battle office on his ship, like your father’s. I just can’t put it all together.”
“Show me.”The idea hits, and I know it’s risky, but it’s something to give us an advantage. Maybe.
“What?”
“Show me what you saw. Like we did when I showed you the conversation I had with my father.”I knew what I needed to show her then.
“Ten, that was when we were together. Touching. How…”
“Try. We’ve been told to practice. To train. Well, why don’t we?”We’d only done this once, and even then, it was excruciating.
“We don’t know what will happen…”she trails off, and I know she’s worried about the consequences. But maybe, without touch, we won’t need to worry about the pain and will be able to focus on what she might have seen.
“I’ll tell Crimson. Have her watch me, like Calix did.”
“But—”I can almost hear the rest of her protest: that our connection is for us, between us. Not for anyone else. Something that binds us in a way that nobody can break. Crimson knowing our secret won’t change that, but it does shift something between us.“Fine. But only because I don’t trust what thismight do to you. Understand that, Aten Ciro. And she better not put a hand on you.”
I snigger.
“What?” Crimson opens her eyes and looks to me.
“She won’t. Okay. I’ll explain, and then we can do this,”I reassure Ever. “Crim, I need to tell you something. About me and Ever.”
“Oh, you know, I don’t need to hear this.” She fidgets and turns her head away.
“You do. Because I need to do something, and I need you to have my back.”
That gets her attention, her eyes opening on me again. “Go on.”
“I can talk with Ever. Mind to mind. We don’t need physical touch.”
“You can mind-read?” Her spine stiffens.
“No. I can sense emotions, as we’ve practised. But with Ever, it’s different. We can talk to each other, but Ever can, maybe, see glimpses of memories or futures. We’re not sure?—”
“So, what she did to Ascella wasn’t a lie. She showed her the future?”
“It’s complicated.” I refuse to believe that we’ll see that fate play out because if it does, that might mean everything else that we’ve seen will too. “Ever has information, and I need it. So, can you just put your shit aside and pull me out if it’s too much?”
“Pull you out of what? And don’t you dare question if I have your back. I’m here, aren’t I?”
I take a breath. It’s not Crim I’m mad at. “You are. And I can never tell you how grateful I am, but you need to trust me. And trust Ever,” I plead.
“Tell her to get us the fuck out of here.”
“She’s in a cell of her own. This isn’t her fault,” I defend.
