The potential ramifications were truly dizzying, but unfortunately there was another problem: Jason also knew about his father and the demons. If she wasn’t careful, he and his friends could unintentionally ruin everything…
“It all makes sense once you work it through,” Krystia breathed. “I’ve always been curious about our true nature, and I’ve met others like us who are as well.”
“Like us?” Tam asked. “Unbound, you mean? I thought your king locked them all up.”
“I’ve visited the prisoners in the Asylum several times now. I’ve been able to ask them questions and read their records.”
Jason frowned. “The king allowed this?”
“He doesn’t know,” Krystia said, “but I needed to get answers for myself.”
Elade eyed her quizzically. “Answers about what, exactly?”
“Everything—our purpose, our meaning, our limits….” Krystia shrugged. “Did you know there are over a thousand of us locked away in that place? Many of them have lived in those walls their entire lives.”
“Probably because they’re dangerous,” the Asgardian woman said. “If some eight-year old started reading my mind, I’m sure I’d want to lock him away, too.”
“You have no idea what these children have gone through,” Krystia snapped a bit more harshly than she had intended. “It’s wrong to lock them away just because they were born different.”
“At least they’re safe. Unbound are treated much worse in other places. In parts of Asgardia, the katagha are set free into the wild, and their survival is left to the mercy of the spirits. If they can survive for a year, they are welcomed back. If not…”
“No offense, but your homeland isn’t exactly the shining beacon of civilization,” Tam muttered. “And treating a person like a monster is the fastest way to transform them into one.”
“I’m just saying the situation here could be a lot worse.”
“That’s not a justification for treating people like shit. Not to me, anyway.”
Sarina shrugged, and Krystia struggled not to glare at the other woman. She had never been overly fond of Asgardian culture, and she could believe that Jason had ever lowered himself to sleeping with this woman. She wasn’t unattractive, by any means—beneath the grime of travel, her green eyes and auburn hair were actually quite striking—but she was clearly a savage just like the rest of her people. Krystia had no idea what a cultured man like him could see in such a brutish thug like her.
“Since you clearly don’t need us ‘normals’ here, I’m going to scout the nearby area,” Sarina said after a moment. “Gor can come with me.”
“That might not be the best idea,” Jason told her. “There aren’t many chagari in this city, and—”
“I’ll be discreet,” Gor said as he stomped out of his room. “Perhaps there’s something in this city worth spending coin on.”
Jason looked like he was going to protest, but he remained silent as the two brutes left the house.
“We’re just one big, happy family,” Tam muttered. “All right, so do you think you can help Jace or not?”
“I do,” Krystia said, smiling. “I learned a lot from the prisoners in the Asylum, and I struggled to control my own powers when I was younger.”
“You don’t seem at all concerned about what Jason told you,” Selvhara said.
“I’ve never really believed a lot of Sol’s teachings. I realize that sounds odd coming from a priestess, but teaching the gospel is only one of our duties. My powers developed so quickly I was of much more use treating the sick and wounded than leading sermons.” Krystia smiled and paused for a moment. “But to be honest, it’s probably because I’m happy to hear it. All of you should be. Imagine what this means to people like us! We live in a world where we get locked away, brainwashed, or dropped into the wild as food for beasts…yet we’re the ones who made the modern era possible. We’re the ones who saved the world from the aftermath of the Godswar. It’s ironic.”
“It’s malicious,” Elade murmured. “A lie nurtured for so long it eventually became the truth. And it threatens all of our lives, even now.”
Krystia nodded solemnly, but deep down she was smiling. Elade was different than the last time she had been here. The Dawn’s betrayal had shaken her faith; Krystia could sense a simmering bitterness inside the other woman. They had more in common than ever—both of them had been betrayed by people they loved and trusted. Perhaps when Krystia finally claimed the Solarian throne, she could convince Elade to serve as her champion.
“I guess the question is: what are we going to do about it?” Tam asked. “Sarina was right, you know. The average person isn’t really going to give a damn about this.”
“We should focus on the here and now,” Jason said. “My father is in this city, and he could be summoning an army of demons for all we know. Elade is a fugitive from the Dawn, Sel has lost her powers, I’m slowly going crazy…and then there’s the fact war could break out at any time.”
Tam grunted. “When you put it that way, maybe we should just lock the door and hide for a few months.”
“Let’s start by seeing what I can do for you,” Krystia said. She legitimately wanted to help him, of course, but the truth was that she needed to figure out a way to keep all of them occupied. If Elade actually managed to find Ethan, all their plans would fall apart in a heartbeat. “I can try a technique I’ve learned recently. It should allow me to understand your powers better and perhaps offer some guidance.”
“Sure, why not?” Jason grunted. “I’m willing to try just about anything at this point.”
“There is one concern—the technique is very…intimate. It involves an even deeper merging of minds and memories than we just shared. I’ll know just about everything about you, and you’ll know everything about me.”
“Wow,” Tam whispered. “So I guess it’s probably a good thing that Sarina isn’t here…”
Krystia smiled sheepishly. She wasn’t completely telling the truth, of course—she was confident in her ability to shield parts of herself from him. She wouldn’t tell him anything about his father or their plans together, but the rest was fair game.
“It’s a powerful experience,” Elade said. “The vaeyn employ similar techniques on occasion.”
The woman’s thoughts flickered briefly, and Krystia couldn’t help but peek into her memories. She saw an image of another woman—a human woman, surprisingly—whom Elade obviously still had strong feelings about. Apparently they had been lovers at one point, but something terrible had happened…
Krystia pulled away before she was tempted to push any deeper. It really wasn’t her business, but she wondered in quiet amusement how Darius would respond when he learned that his current fantasy conquest enjoyed the company of other women.
“Like I said, I’m willing to try just about anything at this point,” Jason said. “What do you need me to do?”
“Just relax,” Krystia assured him, placing her hands on either side of his head again. She recalled what Sovan had done, how he had subtly manipulated her consciousness and joined it with his. But at the same time, she erected some mental barriers to shield him from her darkest secrets. “Try not to fight me. Concentrate on my thoughts.”
Their emotions swirled together like a river feeding into an ocean. At first, the stream was gentle; she could only sense the weakest of his surface thoughts like apprehension, doubt, and a small touch of hope. But soon the transfer became a food, and she allowed herself to be dragged away into the deeper recesses of his mind. Jason was terrified—not of her, but of the spirit living inside him, of what it might do to him. He feared his father, of what the man had been willing to sacrifice, and of how now he might even be willing to sacrifice his own son. He feared for Sarina, that he had let her get away and lost what they had together. The swirling terror threatened to suffocate Krystia as she pressed even deeper…
The priests believe they share bonds with one another, she whispered in his mind
. They believe they are unified in a way no one else can be, between each other and their king. They are wrong. Their minds touch, but they do not merge. They are pawns of the tether shackling them. They do not understand this. They never can.
I feel…you, he managed.
Yes. You have never been this close to anyone before, to be that person. Enter me, Jason, and allow me to enter you.
Krystia felt him gasp for breath, and then suddenly she broke though. Steadying herself against the deluge of memories and emotions, she tried to slowly drink in his essence. She could see everything from his earliest memories to the present: all his struggles, all his joys. Just as she came to know Sovan, she suddenly knew Jason Moore. She understood him as if they were one person.
“You do not belong here.”
Krystia choked as if a hand had clasped around her throat. Her eyes shot open and she glanced around, but she was no longer on the couch next to Jason. He wasn’t there at all, and neither were any of his friends. She was lying down on a slab of rock in the middle of a garden she had never seen. It was nighttime, and she felt a cool breeze brush against her skin.
“What the…?” she stammered.
“You do not belong here.”
She sat up, a spike of pain shooting into her head as she did so. She glanced about and saw a pale-skinned woman in a bizarre green dress standing nearby.
“Who are you? Where the hell am I?”
“You must leave,” the strange woman said. “You cannot be here.”
Krystia took a deep breath and tried to relax. She could still feel an odd swirling of Jason’s thoughts in the back of her mind, but it felt so…distant. She was still connected to him; she hadn’t severed their link. But then how…?
“She’s trying to help me.”
Krystia turned. Jason approached from the other side of the garden. He looked just as he had on the couch, but something about him was different. She tried to reach out and touch his mind, and it was only then she realized she was completely powerless. The Aether was gone, and she couldn’t channel.
“My knowledge is for you alone,” the woman told him. “You must understand it.”
“I can’t handle it alone,” Jason protested. “You know this is killing me—you told me so yourself. You told me to find someone else to help, and I did.”
“She cannot be here.”
“You’re the Immortal,” Krystia said, feeling foolish for not realizing the truth immediately. Everything here felt so real—Jason’s voice, the smell of the nearby flowers, even the cool night air on her skin—that she had almost started to believe it. But this was all just a hallucination woven by this Immortal.
“You must leave,” Malacross repeated.
“There has to be a way she can help me,” Jason pleaded. “She’s a telepath—an Unbound. She can understand better than anyone else.”
“This one cannot help you.”
“I’m going to die!” Jason nearly screamed. “We both know that. And if I do, what will be left of you? Will you transform into that ball of energy again, or will you dissipate into the Aether like the rest of your kind? I doubt you want to find out.”
The woman’s face remained impassive, and she didn’t reply. She didn’t need to; Krystia understood even if Jason didn’t.
“She doesn’t want me to help you,” Krystia said. “She’s afraid.”
Jason shook his head. “Afraid of what?”
“The Unbound destroyed her people. She’s concerned I might do the same.”
“If I die, she might be destroyed anyway,” he pointed out. “Isn’t it worth taking a chance?”
Malacross exchanged looks with both of them, and Krystia desperately wished she could use her telepathy here. She didn’t even know if it would work on an Immortal, but she had come to rely upon her powers more than ever these past few weeks.
“You already know much,” Malacross said eventually. “You are still a shadow of us, but you have not yet reached your full potential.”
“Then teach me more,” Krystia said. “Let me help him.”
“Such knowledge is dangerous. It destroyed my people and nearly consumed your world.”
“You were willing to share your knowledge with me,” Jason pointed out. “You could have rejected me; you could have stayed in that cube of yours, but you didn’t. There has to be a reason.”
Malacross eyed him wearily. “You are different. You seek knowledge, not power. You wish only to understand, not to control. She is not the same.”
He glanced to Krystia for a moment. “She’s spent her life using her powers to heal the sick and injured.”
“She seeks power.”
“Yes, I do,” Krystia admitted. “I seek the power to free my people and give them a chance to have real lives. I seek the power to correct a great injustice.”
“That is often the beginning,” Malacross whispered. “It is rarely the end.”
“Jason rescued me once, years ago. I owe him my life. Please let me repay him now.”
Krystia reached out and touched Jason’s shoulder. He understood, at least. There was no shame in power, not when it was wielded correctly. Tevek had told her that much.
Eventually Malacross took a step forward and offered Krystia her hand. Their skin touched, and a new flood of thoughts and images streamed into her mind. Just as it started to overwhelm her, Malacross’s physical body disintegrated in a bright flash…and it was like a release valve had suddenly been opened in Krystia’s mind. Suddenly it all poured over her at once, and she opened her mouth to scream—
And then suddenly she was back on the couch again gasping for air. Her eyes took time to refocus, and she could see the concerned faces of Jason’s friends looming over the two of them. Finally everything started to sharpen and she could make out what they were saying.
“Are you all right?” Elade asked, her hands flashing with healing magic.
Krystia nodded faintly and sat up. She was sticky with sweat, and so was Jason.
“I’m fine,” she whispered.
“Wow,” Tam murmured. “So…was it good?”
“You have no idea…”
“Trust me: I really, really want to.”
Jason shoved him out of the way and squeezed Krystia’s hand. “You did it. I don’t know how, but it’s like the pressure is gone. I feel…normal.”
Selvhara looked between them in confusion. “How?”
Krystia exhaled and closed her eyes. She was exhausted, but otherwise she felt fine—more than fine, actually. She remembered everything clearly now, and the pieces of what Malacross had taught her started to crystallize in her thoughts. It was as invigorating as it was humbling. Sovan had taught her more than she had ever thought possible, but sharing in the mind and memories of an Immortal…
“I understand how to control the power now,” Jason said, rubbing at his head. “Somewhat, at least. I can block out the noise…”
Selvhara squeezed at his shoulder. “What about the Immortal?”
“She shared the burden with me,” Krystia said, smiling as it all made sense. “Some of her knowledge is with me now, and the rest is inside Jason.”
“Oookay,” Tam muttered. “So what does that mean, exactly?”
Jason opened his palms in front of him, and a surge of electricity abruptly crackled between his fingers. “I have no idea,” he whispered, “but I’m going to find out.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I’ve made many mistakes in my life. You are not one of them.”
—Ethan Moore to Selvhara Narhesti, 2009 AG
Ethan Moore clutched at the table and desperately tried to drag himself back to his feet. But he barely had the strength to breathe, let alone hoist up his entire bodyweight. The last summons had taken a heavy toll upon him. The flesh on his hand was especially pale, and he dreaded to see his face in a mirror. His body was not-so-slowly withering away, and the worst part was that he had only summoned three demons so far. He would need an army to com
plete this mission, but he wasn’t sure how much more of this his body could take.
His minions stirred about the cellar, cackling to themselves as they reveled in their master’s suffering. If he died, they would rampage through the city. The amount of damage even a few demons could cause was staggering, especially if they started to possess city watchmen. He had used that chaos against the Crell in Lyebel many times over the past few months.
The cellar door suddenly swung open, and Ethan craned his neck to see Krystia’s face twisted in revulsion at his appearance.
“By Sol,” she muttered. “What has happened to you?”
“I wear the face of pain and sacrifice,” he bit out. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize them.”
She scoffed and sat down at the edge of the table to watch him struggle. “I hope you have the energy to carry through on your half of the bargain?”
“Half?” he laughed bitterly before breaking into a coughing fit. “My servants are ready. They’re appraising you right now.”
Her eyes flicked up and scanned the room. Her face briefly scrunched in concentration before she suddenly leapt backwards and pressed herself to a wall. “Sol’s mercy!”
“Sol has nothing to do with them,” Ethan rasped. The draeloth he had summoned was only a few feet away from her, the “mouth” at the center of his muscled chest gaping open. He was always amazed how quiet these things could be when they tried. “Leave her.”
The creature slowly backed away, and Krystia finally leaned down over Ethan and placed a hand on his neck. Her skin grew warm, and the pressure in his chest faded. He felt a bit of his strength return and he eventually hoisted himself up.
“You’re dying,” she told him.
“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped. “It gets worse every time.”
“Then it’s time for you to stop.”
For an instant, he mistook her tone for legitimate concern…but then he realized she was thinking about something else. “What has happened?”
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