Page 57 of Guardian of Exile

He swallowed, his gaze fixated on the thorns that had appeared on her skin, and not looking calmed by the explanation. “I didn’t feel them.”

Oh, so that was the problem. It didn’t bother him that he hadn’t seen them, it bothered him that he’d touched her face and hadn’t felt them.

“I didn’t think”—he paused, clearly searching his memory for something—“Illusionists could do that?”

She flinched. “I’m not an Illusionist.”

“Sorry, is that considered a derogatory term for it?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m just not one.” She closed her eyes briefly. She had to be able to talk about him at some point. “Seth was.”

“I didn’t mean⁠—”

She waved him off. “You couldn’t have known. Anyway, my abilities do extend to touch.”

“And those abilities are…?”

“Need to know.” She couldn’t get around the fact that to help them Tristen was going to know a great many things about her and her friends that it was dangerous to have him know. But that didn’t mean she had to tell him she was one of three remaining members of a race that had been hunted to near-extinction.

He looked like he was going to argue with her, but ultimately didn’t. “Okay. So what are those?” He pointed to the thorns.

“I’m honestly not sure. I got them by accident, and they’re now tied into my life. If I remove one, it pulls some of that out. I pulled two of them out. One is now in the Station in Earth Between, the other in its Avatar. That’s something you can follow, right? My life here connected to what’s in the thorns in the Station?”

“I…don’t know. I can try.” He stepped forward, touching his fingertips to the swirl of thorns.

His magic brushed over her. She’d expected it to feel like Tobi’s. When the young Shaman had searched her mind for a way to heal it from the effects of breaking Elena’s Hiding, his magic had been a cool, calming presence. Like soft mist in the summer. Tristen’s magic was a violent thing, storm-tossed waves that crashed against her.

But as wild as his magic felt, it didn’t hurt. Another wave crashed over her and his hand gripped her jaw, as if he was trying to hold something about the magic still by holding her face immobile.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. “Nyx?!”

“I’m fine, Evra.” She held her hand out in a gesture to halt. She could only just see the Amazon, Morgen and Kaden behind her, out of the corner of her eye.

Tristen didn’t seem to have noticed the others’ approach at all. His eyes were closed, his magic relentless, like the tide lapping at the shore. It poured around the thorns, in between them, drowned them. And then something struck, like a spark catching flame, and she knew the moment his magic recognized the bits of her trapped in the chaos thorns and followed them. She couldn’t see the Station or Griff, but she felt them, felt the tie that bound them all together. Felt Tristen tug on it and the Station and Griff pause in response, as if they’d felt it too.

His magic stayed a while longer, mapping the contours of the thorns, before it finally withdrew. His eyes flicked open. “What on Earth possessed you to do that?”

“They were going to die. And it would have been my fault.”

He looked at her incredulously. “Do you know what these are?” He tapped his index finger against one of the thorns, but didn’t wait for her to answer. “They’re the messy end ties of the last Shaman’s job.”

“They—what?”

“What is going on?” Evra demanded.

Tristen’s hand finally dropped from Nyx’s face, only for him to point it at her. “She’s crazy is what’s going on.” He finally looked over at the others, Morgen’s and Evra’s eyes widening as they saw his face full-on. Looking annoyed, he said, “Yeah, I know, I look like the dead guy.” He shook his head. “Jesus Christ, there are too many people in my house.” He started walking, Morgen and Evra stepping out of the doorway to let him stalk past. He pulled his phone from his pocket, looked at the screen and started muttering again. “It’s two o’clock in the fucking morning, who wants coffee?”

When Nyx would have followed, Evra held her back. “Are you okay?”

Nyx didn’t misunderstand what she was asking. She nodded. “I’m all right. It sucker-punched me at first, but…they’re very different people. It’s only when Tristen stops talking and I catch him out of the corner of my eye that I forget and think of Seth.”

Evra looked like she wanted to say more, but Nyx nodded her head in the direction Tristen and the others had gone. “Come on. He’s touchy, prone to rash decisions of a life-ending nature, and you guys pissed him off by showing up. We shouldn’t leave him alone with them.”

Evra sighed. As she walked with Nyx to the kitchen, her nose wrinkled. “Why do you smell like ashes?”

Nyx declined to answer.