Page 95 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

“Yes. The nightmares I had as a boy were due to…” Rocharde paused as if looking for the right words. “My fear of the past, and my lack of power…”

“But you have the power to use gravity control, lock the veyll, and read memories,” Condorr interjected. “There are no boundaries to your gift.”

“I didn’t know I had any powers until I was in the dream state, as my magick came late to me,” Rocharde explained. “But under the guidance of the Sleep Wizard, who was with me the entire time, I dream-walked within that dreamscape. I wasn’t alone. And he didn’t judge me for what he saw.”

“Maybe the Sleep Wizard could help Angela, too,” Bellus said to Zarek.

“Were you hurt or in any danger while in the dreamscape, Rocharde?” Martar asked, clearly anticipating Zarek’s next question.

“No. I mean, once I played it out and I faced that fear, it answered all my questions. I was never harmed. And I never had a nightmare again.” Rocharde’s honesty was absolute. He calmly picked up his cup and took another sip of his coffee. “It might do your Angela Duboise some good, if she can’t sleep.”

Zarek wanted to say no, to snarl at them for putting Angela through anything that might hurt her or unleash a terror that could leave her more broken than she already was.

But Angela would want answers too. She’d want to understand what she was. Magick School had failed her, and he was failing her by shielding her from testing by the most powerful they had—the men at this table.

“I think we should try it,” Gellar said. “What do you say, Zarek?”

“Me? No.” The dragon in his chest coiled tighter as he forcefully squashed the soft glow from activating his staves. “But I understand, too.” He sighed heavily as he faced the men he trusted and loved like brothers. “I’ll ask Angela to see if she agrees.”

“Be sure that you do.” Gellar seemed pleased as he added cream to his coffee, then stirred. He tapped the spoon against the rim of his cup, then let it rest on the saucer. “Bellus, speak with the Sleep Wizard to prepare for a guided dream-walk. Condorr, see the witches for a protection spell for the room. We’ll hold it on the far side of the Training Hall, in the outer area, so as not to affect the rest of the Keep.”

“And what happens if Angela says no?” Zarek frowned with annoyance at how quickly they were moving forward.

“If you feared sleep, Zarek, wouldn’t you want to fix it?” Gellar’s voice held no malice as he put his coffee cup down on the saucer. “And I have a feeling Angela Duboise will want to seek answers to her own questions. This might help her. If it helped Rocharde discover his magick, it could help the cause. Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to ensure no harm comes to her at all.”

“Bellus, hurry up and find a cure for this Claiming thing.” Zarek snarled with disgust at himself. His fierce protectiveness and magick simmered beneath his skin, making the staves glow across his armor as they struggled to contain him. Worse, now he had this foreign desire to walk beside her in the garden instead of drilling his warriors. “Why couldn’t it be Martar to deal with this Claiming? Martar would have the female washing his feet with their hair, and then he’d be back to work no different.” And since when did he whine!

Helviti.

Everything about this Claiming was making Zarek different.

Martar chuckled beside him. “Because you’re the man of the hour.” He leaned closer, bumping shoulders. “A word from this wise old friend I have who he tells me regularly to just deal with it.”

“Hmph,” Zarek huffed.

But they were all thinking the same thing. They hoped Angela would agree to do this so they could learn what she could do. Her magick—this new power—might be their advantage in the war against Katarra.

What they didn’t say, and what hung unspoken in the air, was that word had spread throughout the Keep. The indoor rain in Magick School, built to stop all magic, had proved powerless against Angela. She’d effortlessly overridden the protections that had stood for centuries.

And people were talking.

It was only a matter of time before someone asked questions they couldn’t answer, especially when their own magickal testing had failed her.

“Are we going to have an issue with…” He couldn’t say it.

But Gellar understood. “We’ll keep this quiet. The Claiming. Her origins. All of it. The moment the Continuum Council learns we’ve brought a…” He didn’t need to finish.

They all knew what would happen.

The Council would scream breach of the Accords. They’d demand Angela be tested, dissected, and studied like a specimen to determine if her power was pure enough to stay in Paradox where she was safe. Only for them to learn she had no documented lineage, and was from the mortal realm with an unclassifiable magick that would fail their testing. All while under the protection of the Captain of the Vanguard through the Claiming, even though the ancestors’ reprieve covered her entry into Paradox. All of it could be twisted into a violation of the very laws they’d sworn to uphold, and everyone knew the Council manipulated the facts to suit their own agenda. But acting on what the Claiming was pushing him toward would cost him more.

“Moving her studies to her chambers was the right call,” Gellar continued. “It protects her from gossip. Keeps prying eyes away and buys us time while she learns about her magick.”

Time to find out what she was and to prepare her for war?

It wasn’t fair to use her like a tool.

If Bellus found a cure for the Claiming, Zarek could go back to being the warrior he was supposed to be, instead of this thing that wanted to follow Angela into the gardens in hope of hearing her laugh.