“Jim didn’t have one,” I remark.
“No, but he should’ve. Julian was a powerful mind reader. Not to mention a master at decoying his mind.” The pride in Kallister’s voice makes me feel more connected to him, knowing that we both loved Jim.
Kallister guides me into one of the small alcoves. The ceiling is low, but there’s enough room for him to stand at his full height without having to duck. He gestures toward the two flat cushions on the ground. “Sit,” he encourages.
As we sit facing each other, cross-legged, a spooky sensation washes over me. This reminds me of training with Uncle Jim in the Blacklands, his gruff voice ordering me to focus, try harder. I can’t look at Kallister’s face without seeing Jim.
“I’d like you to try to get past my shield,” he says, his posture relaxed as he rests both palms on his thighs.
“Okay.” I wipe my hands on my pants and clasp them in my lap, then close my eyes, inhaling slowly.
The second I open a path into his mind, I feel it—the pressure. Normally it’s just a faint buildup of it, but in Kallister’s mind, the pressure is suffocating. His shield is impossibly strong and determined to repel me. The sensation is like being stuck in a crowded room, pressed in by bodies from all sides as I try to make my way forward.
Finally, I’m able to see the shield. It’s impressive. Not a single crack, not even a sliver. I imagine myself standing in front of it, running my hands along the smooth surface. Jim called this process sweeping. You dance your fingertips over the shield, explore it inch by inch, until eventually you find it: that one soft spot.
Kallister doesn’t have a soft spot.
No weakness.
At all.
I drag a fingernail over the shield. Sometimes the faintest scratch will appear, and if it does, you can slowly massage it with your finger. Push into it. Dig your nail into it until it forms a bigger crack, then push your way inside. But not this time. Kallister Ash is a wall of mental discipline, his mind completely elusive to me.
My temples begin to throb, the back of my neck aching with discomfort. Trying to infiltrate his shield is expending a lot of energy. I don’t remember Uncle Jim’s being this impenetrable.
“All right, enough,” he commands.
I blink, a ragged breath leaving my lips. I realize I’m sweating. If I peered into a mirror right now, I suspect my face would be totally devoid of color. I feel the same way I felt the morning I incited the firing squad. Weak. Dizzy.
“We can try again another time,” Kallister says.
“No,” I protest. “Let me try again now.”
“I can’t allow you to do that. We require a mandatory rest period after mental strain lasting more than an hour.”
We’ve been sitting here for more than anhour? I had no idea. Time slowed to a complete crawl when I was sweeping.
“You just sat there for an hour in total silence?”
“I’m used to it.” Smiling, he gets to his feet. I notice that his veins are rippling, indicating he’s using his powers, and then he says, “Wait here. There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”
As he steps out, I stand and smooth the front of my shirt. I hear footsteps echoing through the main chamber, and then Kallister returns with a lanky young man who looks about my age. He would probably be cute if not for the pinched features that lend him a birdlike air. The deep scowl doesn’t help, either.
“Wren, I’d like you to meet Hawkins Jost. The only other known inciter on the Continent.”
I stare at the guy in shock. I’ve never met another inciter before—which I suppose makes sense, if there’s only two of us.
“Hawkins will be able to help you harness gold,” Kallister adds.
My shock gives way to confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“I figured you wouldn’t. Julian always thought he was the smartest man in the room,” Kallister says. “I bet he thought he could teach you everything himself, right? Well, my brother didn’t know everything. It’s difficult for those without gold to know how to use it.”
“I still don’t get it. What is gold?” I push.
“It’s a frequency only some Mods possess,” Kallister explains. “Associated with the manipulation powers.”
Noting my increasing bewilderment, Hawkins’s lips curl into a sneer. “Do you knowanything?”
