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ChapterTwenty-Six
Colton’s brows contracted, his eyes meeting mine over Amara’s shoulder.
“What do you mean?”
“Your Majesty,” I said, “please extend your right hand away from the throne.”
The king remained frozen for a long minute before reluctantly complying. When the arm opposite to me was fully stretched out, I looked toward Colton.
“That hand is for you,” I said.
His eyes flashed as he understood my instruction to make contact with the king. But he clearly still didn’t understand my intentions.
Amara stepped to one side, clearing the path to the dais, and Colton slowly approached. He took the king’s outstretched wrist in a healer’s practiced grip.
As I had expected, he immediately attempted to push his power into the king, no doubt wanting to be prepared to counter any damage I wrought.
I activated the king’s wall in response, driving Colton’s power out.
He gave a cry of surprise and jerked his hand back, the king’s arm dropping limply from his grip.
“What is it?” Queen Celestine asked in alarm. “What has she done to him?”
“I…I don’t know.” Colton sounded lost. “My power couldn’t connect with him.”
“What does that mean?” King Marius asked, his voice tense despite the forced stillness of his body.
“That is your wall,” I said. “Mesmerization was Grey’s weapon, but I had one of my own. This is it.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Anka’s face shift. Her narrowed eyes widened slightly. She had always been interested in my wall.
“You asked what I hope to achieve,” I continued. “The answer is simple. King Marius intends to destroy my life although I’ve committed no crime. I need hope for the future. I could end both of us right now—taking my persecutor down with me—unless I have a reason not to do so. You’re going to give me hope, Master Colton. And you’re going to do it by learning how to activate someone’s wall.”
“A wall guards not just against a healer’s regular power but also against mesmerization?” Anka’s face had grown thoughtful as she watched me speak, her brows knitting together.
I nodded. “That’s right. It blocks a healer’s power from entering the body completely. If you raise someone else’s wall, it will drop again when you lose physical contact with them, but, in the meantime, it will protect against another healer.”
“That’s a powerful tool,” Anka said.
I looked from her to the king. “Even if I stay locked up forever, someone else will come along and work out how to mesmerize. Now that people know it’s possible, someone will do it eventually. I understand you’re worried about what a rogue healer could do, but there’s a way to protect yourself against such a person—no matter their intentions. You see me as a threat, but removing all potential threats is an impossible task. The solution is to learn how to defend yourself.”
“I thought you’d failed to teach anyone else how to make a wall,” Anka said.
I shrugged. “That was true in the past. But I haven’t tried to teach the Master of Healing himself.” I met Colton’s eyes over the king’s head. “You’re going to learn how to do it right now. And once you can, you’ll have another option other than locking me up forever. I’ll have a reason to choose hope. So like I said at the beginning: you’re our only chance of all walking away from this alive, Master Colton.”
One of Anka’s eyebrows slowly rose, and I carefully didn’t look her way as Colton swallowed. Thankfully his attention was fully focused on me and the king.
Slowly, he took the king’s wrist again, and this time I let him connect, giving him time to ascertain that the king was unharmed. Then I activated the king’s wall.
As before, Colton’s power was immediately driven from Marius’s body. But this time he was prepared, and maintained his hold on the king.
“It’s remarkable,” he said slowly, looking up at me. “But I don’t know how you’re doing it.”
I shrugged. “It’s not hard really. You just need to block your own healing power that’s connecting with him.”
“But how? I’ve never—”
The double doors creaked open, making him break off as the rest of us turned to look. A young man I didn’t recognize strode through the narrow opening. His boots were coated in dust, and his clothes—while fine quality—were rumpled and dirty. On his heels strode a familiar figure in a similar state.
