Page 68 of Salt in the Seas
“It wasn’t a joke.”
Gaeren turned back to Aeliana. “Did you sense how the memory could be tuned in to? Sort of singled out from the others in your mind?”
Aeliana’s smile faded. “Maybe?”
“This time I’m going to give you a memory. Instead of just taking it in as your own, I want you to focus on where you sense it. Use your starlock to feel where it’s coming from and how to grasp it so you can then pass it to someone else.”
Her face clouded over as if his words held no meaning. He remembered the sensation all too well from his time with his earliest mentors.
“Think of it like a game. In fact, it’s one we played often in school. All the noetics would train together and we would transfer one memory through the entire group. It was meant to test our accuracy to see how much the last person’s interpretation of the memory matched the first person’s original memory.” He grinned. “It usually ended up being more of a game for who could throw in the funniest alterations to irritate our instructors.”
Sylmar’s hum from behind Gaeren showed the older man’s lack of surprise, but Aeliana’s shoulders relaxed, and she smiled as she closed her eyes.
“Secretly, I don’t think the instructors cared,” Gaeren added. “It’s much harder to falsify a memory than it is to keep it accurate, so we ended up pushing our magic harder than we would have otherwise.”
He studied her a moment longer than necessary, watching the way a little V formed between her brows as she focused. Her hair swung across her cheeks and neck, practically inviting him to brush it back and feel its silkiness once more. For the hundredth time he worried she might catch a glimpse of the braid on his wrist, then berated himself for caring. It was a reminder of promises he’d made, nothing more.
Despite the becoming way Kendalyhn had fixed his poor cut to frame Aeliana’s face, he missed the way it used to brush her elbows. Why were Vendarans so eager to cut their locks anyway? Was it really such a shameful thing to have long hair like the Stars when it was a reflection of their beauty?
Sylmar cleared his throat, and Gaeren squeezed his eyes shut but not before catching Riveran’s smirk.
He tried to push the image of Aeliana’s hair out of his mind, but instead it brought him back to the idea that Orra’s short hair didn’t match her history as a Star. Instead of completely shoving the thought aside, he pulled up his memory of Orra and her admission at being Sheen. Did the details Orra had given him match the ones she’d given Aeliana? This was an opportunity to test it.
When Aeliana gasped, he opened his eyes, curious at which part had shocked her. Her grip on his hands tightened. “She’s?—
“No!” he cut her off. “I don’t want you saying anything out loud about the memory. Not yet.”
She frowned, glancing at Sylmar.
It wasn’t that Gaeren wanted the information kept secret. It was that he wanted to test her ability to transfer the memory to Cyrus. He pulled his hands away from hers and stood, the absence of her soft skin leaving his hands feeling awkwardly empty until the mark of his bond twinged its irritation. He scratched at it, then gestured for Cyrus to take his seat.
“Can you still feel the presence of the memory?” he asked Aeliana. “Not just the knowledge of it but the thread it hangs on?”
“I think so,” she murmured, closing her eyes once more.
“Try sending that thread through to Cyrus.”
The almost-priest held out his hands, eager, as always, to participate in anything with magic. At least Sylmar had chosen Cyrus instead of Lukai for this task. The thought surprised Gaeren and made his bond mark itch once more.
“It sounds like it was an interesting memory,” Cyrus said. “I’ll take it.”
Aeliana grimaced. “You might be waiting a while.”
The silence stretched, and Riveran yawned, gaining a glare from Sylmar.
“I feel like it’s fading,” Aeliana said. “The thread and the memory. It seems stuck where you left it.”
Sylmar stood. “Think of how you push out your light shield, how you send your energy through to others to heal them. Think of the ways you’ve already used your magic and do it again, but with the memory.”
Her brow furrowed once more, and this time Gaeren allowed himself to study her even longer. The way her lashes brushed her cheeks and how her lips pursed in concentration. He could still see faint traces of the toddler he’d known as a child, of the Daisy he longed to protect, but he could no longer think of her that way. He wanted to protect her, but not because she was a small child unable to protect herself. He simply cared what happened to her.
He cared about Aeliana.
He squirmed at an admission that felt forbidden. She had all the grace and beauty of the women in the noble courts back at the palace. But she also held a humbleness that set her apart from the women he was used to dealing with. Even Lenda had held him at arm’s length, as if she knew he could never truly love her. As if she saw their future as political and transactional just like he had.
But could he break his bond because he cared for someone else? Was there dishonor in doing it if it was for the right reasons? To free Lenda and to free himself from something neither of them wanted—maybe something neither of them had ever wanted? To free them up for something more? Something better?
Cyrus’ confused voice startled Gaeren out of his unexpected spiraling thoughts.
