Page 38 of The Seeker

The words hissed through my mind like a whisper, and I did a mental double take as I realized I wasn’t the one to think them. My mind raced as I debated how to proceed. I decided honesty was the best option.

“Ena,” I breathed. “Think something about yourself I don’t know,” I demanded, fighting to remain calm.

She looked at me, eyes wide. The words drifted through an instant later. “Can she hear my thoughts?”

“I think so,” I replied. “Think something I wouldn’t ever guess.”

“I once kissed Leif.”

My mouth dropped open. Not because I was angry, but because it was true—I could hear thoughts.

I responded to her admission audibly, “I don’t care; I don’t think I loved him in the end. Not really. It was just that first exhilarating love, you know? Until you discover the real thing.”

Ena nodded. “I figured as much. I never saw you respond to him like you did Otho when he rescued us.”

My heart panged, and I steered the conversation elsewhere, not ready to confront my complicated feelings for a certain broody general. Instead, I wondered why I could hear her thoughts now, when this was the same time I always took my potion in the mornings. I didn’t hesitate to muse aloud. “I assume my mental wall has been damaged so when the potion wore off and the new dose hadn’t quite kicked in yet. I think the only reason I’m able to distinguish your thoughts right now is because there’s no one else around.” It was only a theory, but I knew there had to be some truth to it.

“Sounds like a good opportunity for you to learn to control it before we come across anyone else.”

“And before she finds out how much I like Derek.” Ena’s unspoken sentence floated through my mind.

I chuckled. “You and Derek, huh?”

She brushed me off, blushing as she rose to pluck more berries. “You better get out of my mind before you hear things you’d rather not.”

She was right. And as she picked berries, I tried to ignore the thoughts drifting from her direction. It was harder than I anticipated, though. And even as I envisioned myself fixing the mental barrier in my mind, I still heard her thoughts about a certain part of Derek’s body.

“Please, Ena, I’m trying here,” I begged, pinching the bridge of my nose as I fought to maintain my focus.

She chuckled as she pressed a handful of berries into my palm. “Think of this as a mean form of motivation.”

I grimaced. “Maybe I should take a second dose of the poison.”

Ena was pensive. “I mean, I think that’s a good idea, mostly because a small dose of poison daily will give you immunity regardless, and you’ll build a tolerance to it, so you’ll likely need more soon—to keep the magic under control. But I’m also not sure what you’re making it with, and if it’s available here.”

I shrugged, pulling another one of the vials from between my breasts, uncorking it and tossing it back. “I made this with belladonna, which I haven’t seen yet. But I can make similar potions with hemlock if we find some of that. This one is watered down with moonflower, which promotes mental clarity, but I won’t worry about that anymore. I probably need it to be stronger anyway. I can make it more effective when I have a proper workspace.”

Her eyes brightened. “How do you know so much about plants?”

I shrugged, deciding we’d waited long enough to eat the second helping of berries in our hands. “I’ve always been passionate about chemistry and what plants can be used for potions. I needed something to do on the days I couldn’t venture outside.”

She ate her berries one by one, her dark eyes watching me. “Have you ever thought of becoming a teacher at the university?”

The mention of the university in Ralheim had a frown stealing over my features. “No.”

“Sorry,” she apologized sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s not that,” I promised her. “It’s just . . . I did attend university, but for engineering and . . . I miss my brother, that’s all.” I left out the part where, even if I’d stayed, we would have had to choose one job to work together and Milo would never choose to be a teacher, which reminded me of something Ena had mentioned the night before. “But enough about me. Are we anywhere close to where your house was?”

Her gaze focused on her berries as she choked out the words, “There was a fire—on the day they found us.”

Of course there was.

Hansen hadn’t been known for his kindness.

I glanced away, observing as a bird landed on one of the branches above our heads. It was a small bird—red, with black lines on its wings. “They really destroyed Heimland. Adis and Hansen, I mean.”

“They did,” she affirmed. “The king has to know. There’s . . . there’s no one left. I question every day how Heimland will survive with fewer and fewer children surviving every generation and with all of the first-born males being sent to war.”