Page 7 of Burn Her They Said
Sergeant Varic’s expression is contemplative when Fray decides to contribute more to the conversation. “Essentially, had your power not embarrassed our ruler, you two could have performed this stand-off years earlier.”
“Leave us,” I command.
Chapter Three
Precedence
Hendry’s mouth opens to respond as I do the one thing I promised I never would and manipulate my Guards’ emotions, needing to convince them to allow me out of their sight so that the Sergeant may grow less defensive. I imbue each of them with trust and siphon their fears, then wait to learn if they will give us a semblance of privacy.
“The best I can offer is to stand on the other side of this,” Hendry says, pointing to the canvas partition running the length of the tent, calmer now that his fears have been digested.
Sergeant Varic and I watch as each of my Guards step behind the thin canvas, providing me with more privacy than I’ve experienced in decades.
“They break their vow so easily?” Sergeant Varic asks, brow quirking.
“If you are concerned for my safety, I can assure you Malin’s telekinetic abilities are so sensitive, he knows what you mean to do before you do.” I narrow my eyes in challenge, when I should be focusing on building a connection if I am to convince anyone that I truly tried to save him. “Lars’ speed is faster than you can blink. Fray is capable of flying me higher than the tallest tower before you can pull in your next breath. Hendry’s strength in force magic is second only to yours and is capable of creating an impenetrable force-shield in less than a second. And Cirrin can imbue me with nearly unending energy, while also being capable of healing most flesh wounds.”
“I am only capable of healing what is there, so since I am unable to reattach limbs or add blood which has been spilled from your body, please don’t do anything drastic with the expectation that my magic can fix it.” Cirrin’s voice is riddled with concern, so I send my magic to draw his anxious energy from him as the need to relieve his panic swirls through me. Despite my efforts, the concerns seem to take over, as is their habit, with his fear expanding to inhabit the entirety of his chest cavity despite my siphoning of his distress.
The Sergeant’s eyes stare vacantly forward as if lost in a memory. “You don’t understand—” His voice cracks, and his sorrow-filled eyes flick up to mine. “You weren’t there.” The haunting quality of his expression is chilling as I study him, shaken with the realization that he is haunted by all the atrocities he’s been forced to perform.
Like me.
“You’re right; I wasn’t there,” I speak in low, soothing tones, the same way Cirrin speaks to me through my own despair with the same damned experience. “The only way I can try to understand is if you let me.” My expression is imploring, my way of manipulating without the use of emotions, having had years of practice at morphing my face to please others. The Sergeant seems to war with himself, having so little time to shift the belief that I am here to force him to think he wants to live longer than this. “So, Sergeant Varic, are you going to impede me, or will you allow me entrance?”
His face falls, and my heart hammers with how forcefully I am pushing him, when those impossibly bright brown irises flick up to mine, throwing an undulating wave of color my way—an array of emotion he should not possess the ability to share directly with me. A wave that should have been partially blocked by?—
My wards.
Eyes widening, I stare at the sorcerer rewriting all I thought I knew.
He’s disarmed me somehow. He’s done something to keep me from warding him out.
That protective wall I rely on is missing as a barrage of emotions slam into my being. They force my body to become a vessel, absorbing all he’s been made to contain past the point any being should. Anger, despair, grief, and shame—all of it laid bare—as he holds nothing back, revealing all his terrors to me.
Brightness flickers behind his irises as the wave separates into individual streams extending from his chest, creating a connection unlike any I’ve ever experienced.
One hand rises to clasp at my chest as tears stream in torrents of overwhelm from all he sends to me, even though I am known to tolerate far more than any one being was meant to be capable of keeping.
He’s feeling too much at once. He has me entrapped in this kaleidoscopic vortex—a roiling rainbow—undulating and spiraling out of control.
The muscles in my legs give out, forcing me to the mattress beside him with the need to brace myself on something to take on the aggressive onslaught of emotion. Pulling in deep breaths of his warm spice scent—just distinct enough from the woody incense wafting around us, with notes of nutmeg and clove—it draws me in as I stoop closer toward him, grounding me in this space as I try to take all he is sharing.
This sorcerer contains too much. How is it he’s still breathing?
Awe envelops my chest as I marvel at his ability to hold the densest, most intense inner turmoil I’ve yet to encounter in anyone other than myself. It is no wonder he does not wish to live, since it is nothing short of a miracle he is, having felt what it is like to die from overwhelm like this.
Knowing of only one other who has survived such a noxious mix of emotions.
Only one who has found a way to survive with so much trapped inside.
That other being…is me.
Sergeant Varic slumps forward, asking, “How did you do that? How did you push past my wards?”
“I didn’t push past anything,” I assure him. “You sent it to me.”
He twists to face me, and I balk, feeling strangely naked and vulnerable, as if his eyes see straight into my soul.
