by Kris A Hiatt
Perspective. It was something Treace was well aware of. He could be wrong, but he thought he heard a little blame in her voice. It was as if she was blaming him for being alive while her father was dead. Maybe it was just because he blamed himself so that’s the way he took her words, but he couldn’t be certain.
“But if I didn’t lose,” Treace started. He was going to say that if he didn’t lose then maybe Kint would still be alive. But then he thought better of it. He could blame himself all he wanted, but he didn’t want Kiril to blame him for her father’s death. If she didn’t already. “Forget it.”
“I won’t,” Kiril said.
Treace was waiting for her to say more, but that’s all she said. The way she had said it made him believe that she did blame him. He tried to feel what she was feeling, but was unable to get anything from her. He figured their connection was weakening.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Kiril informed him. “Stop thinking so hard on it.”
Apparently she could still sense his emotional state. He nodded, knowing he didn’t really need to say anything for her to understand.
“I can’t wait for that link between you two to stop,” Moff said.
“Me either,” Kiril replied.
Treace didn’t know if she meant for those words to hurt him, but they did. He wasn’t certain as to why either. It was odd to know someone could sense your feelings so well, and downright creepy to know they could read your thoughts. He should be agreeing with Moff too, but for some reason he felt wounded by her words.
Kiril shook her head in front of him.
He thought of the connection itself then and realized it didn’t make sense. She had healed him beyond belief. That should mean his connection to her feelings should be very strong while hers to his should be limited. He had healed her, but that wound was much less severe. Why was it that today she seemed to be able to sense him much more effectively than he could sense her?
“Tell us the story of Slither again,” Kiril said.
“There won’t be any new revelations,” Treace told her.
“That’s fine,” Kiril replied. “I’d still like to hear it again if you don’t mind?”
Treace looked over at Moffred who was already looking curiously in his direction. Moff simply shrugged but offered no objection.
“Okay,” Treace told them, not seeing a reason why he shouldn’t. “Here goes.”
~~~
Treace had finished his story few hours ago and afterward they had ridden in silence until they decided to camp. Treace didn’t mind it. He was used to being alone with his thoughts. During the ride he tried to key in on Kiril’s emotions but after a few minutes without success, he stopped.
“Treace, would you find us some firewood please?” Kiril asked.
“Sure.”
“Thanks,” Kiril told him, smiling.
He liked seeing a smile on her face. It was a forced smile, he knew, but it was a start.
He walked away from the campsite to find some wood. It was fairly plentiful so he had no doubt he’d find enough to keep the fire going throughout the night. He didn’t think they’d necessarily need the fire to keep warm. Instead, he thought it would help keep the animals at bay while they slept. He was holding the sticks in his left arm, keeping them balanced as he bent low to pick up more with his right and placing those on the pile. He decided it was enough for one trip and made his way back to camp. He hadn’t gone very far, so it was a short trip.
As he neared, he could see that Kiril and Moffred were busy setting up the makeshift camp. One of them had already cleared a spot for the fire, placing a few small rocks around the perimeter. Their bedrolls were unfurled a few feet away from the fire pit and his pack was hanging from a branch on a nearby tree. He dropped his armful of wood on the ground and knelt to stack the sticks in an organized fashion.
“Give me your waterskin,” Moffred instructed. “I need to fill mine up again. I may as well fill yours too.”
“It’s in the pack,” Treace replied. “It’s still nearly full. Yours is empty already?” There was a river a short distance away, but they had both filled their waterskins there. Moffred had one all to himself now. Treace and Kiril began sharing one. They were riding the same horse so they both agreed that it made sense.
“Almost. I’ll just top yours off too.”
“Thank you, Moffred,” Kiril told him.
“You’re welcome,” Moff replied as he pulled the skin from the pack and began walking out of camp.
“It would be faster if you took the horse,” Treace told him.
“Been riding all day,” Moff said without stopping. “I think I’ll walk.”
Treace nodded his understanding and went about the task of making a fire for the camp.
“Treace?” Kiril said questioningly right after the fire flickered to life.
“Yeah,” he said, still concentrating on the fire to ensure it didn’t go out.
“Join me?”
He looked over to see her sitting cross-legged on one end of her bedroll. She was patting the bedroll directly in front of her.
“Sure,” he replied, adding a couple more small sticks before getting up.
He sat down in front of her but was facing the fire instead of her. He thought about facing her, but after looking at his boots he didn’t want the dirt from them to get all over her bedroll.
“Take them off and face me,” she instructed.
“Okay,” he said, feeling a little uncomfortable. He didn’t know where this was going, but he thought it might be time for her to tell him she blamed him for her father’s death.
“What do you feel from me right now?” Kiril asked.
“Nothing,” he told her. “I haven’t felt your feelings for most of the day.”
“Try again.”
He did as he was bade even though he knew it would be for nothing. He was about to tell her so when he realized he could feel shame coming from her. What could she have possibly done that she was ashamed of?
“I’ve been listening to your mind all day,” she admitted, looking down.
She fiddled with a stick and was looking at it instead of him. He felt she was deeply ashamed for what she had done. “But I was in your mind this morning,” he told her.
“No, you weren’t,” she replied. “You could sense my feelings, but I never let you in my mind.”
“Let me?”
“I even blocked you out of my feelings for a while, but that’s harder to do,” she explained. “So I stopped a while ago.”
Treace thought he understood what she meant, but what she was saying wasn’t possible. You couldn’t read someone’s mind, and feeling emotions was a byproduct of healing that couldn’t be prevented.
“But it is possible,” she assured him. “And it can be prevented.”
“How?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? If you can do it, how do you not know?”
“I don’t know how I do it,” she admitted. “I just know I can do it. I’ve always been able to.”
Just then Treace got that feeling again that something had gone wrong with someone else that she had healed in the past.
“You’re right,” Kiril said, looking down again.
“About?” Treace asked, making sure he knew exactly what she was talking about.
“There was a time when this ability I have didn’t work out so well for me,” she replied, still fiddling with the stick.
It was clear to him it was something she didn’t want to talk about. After all that she had been through in the last few days, he didn’t blame her. She had enough to think about as it was, let alone dredging up the past.
“No, it’s fine,” she told him. “It may help you understand better if I tell you. Besides, I’ve been in your mind all day. I know the kind of man you are. I can trust you.”
Treace immediately tried to think if there was anything that ran through his mind th
at he would be embarrassed about. He realized earlier in the day he thought of his first kiss and what had happened with the prostitute Moff hired. He hoped she hadn’t seen that in his head.
“I think better of you for not sleeping with her,” she informed him.
Treace felt his face flush, possibly more deeply than ever before. If she had read his mind for that part, then she obviously knew what he was thinking regarding her kiss. “Thanks,” he said. Nothing else worth saying came to mind.
“But forget that and listen,” Kiril instructed. “It’s time for me to tell my tale. It’s private, which is why I asked Moffred to leave. I expect you not to tell anyone.”
That explained why Moffred left to get water after just filling up his waterskin. He didn’t need to, he was asked to. “I won’t,” he promised.
“One afternoon I was out riding when I came across a boy who was walking down the road toward me. It wasn’t one of the main roads. Father hated it when I road on those. I was on one of the less traveled roads, but it was one that I rode frequently. Anyway, the boy was wobbling terribly. I immediately recognized who it was. He was one of the neighborhood boys who looked to be about my age, not a bad kid by any account, but I didn’t really know him that well. There was a large gash on the right side of his head and his arm was clearly broken. The bone hadn’t punctured the skin, but it hung limp at his side and it was still clear that it was broken. I didn’t know what had happened, but my first instinct was to heal him.”
It made sense to Treace. Wanting to take the pain away from someone when they were hurt was a normal reaction.
“But my father told me I could never use my magic in front of anyone and that I could never tell anyone that I could use it,” she said. “It was tough at first. Knowing you could do some amazing things but not tell or show anyone. It was tough.”
He understood that. While working as a guard in Haven he couldn’t let anyone know he was from the College. He could never practice The Calm or Path of Heart in front of anyone.
“So I had to decide if defying my father and healing this boy was worth the risk,” she went on. “At the time, I decided that it was. I jumped off my horse and just as I made it to him, the boy passed out. It could have been from the lack of blood, the blow to the head, or simply out of pain, I wasn’t sure. But I knew that it was lucky for me that he did, knowing he wouldn’t remember me healing him. So I looked around and after seeing no one else, I healed him and waited for him to wake up. When he did, I immediately wished I hadn’t helped him at all. I wished I never met him. I didn’t know how, but I could feel his feelings and hear most of his thoughts. He turned out to not be such a nice guy after all.”
Treace could feel her anger, disgust, and sadness all at the same time.
“He was riding back from town after visiting a girl. He was hoping the girl would have sex with him but she wouldn’t. It made him angry. I could feel that he wanted to just take it from her but he decided against it.”
“He sounds like a wonderful person,” Treace said sarcastically.
“The thought of it made my skin crawl. But then his mind switched to his horse. It was an old horse and it didn’t want to run anymore and would only canter at best. When it wouldn’t run for him, he hit the horse in the side of the head. I could feel his anger as he replayed what had happened in his mind. The horse had reared and he fell off the back, breaking his arm and cutting open his head. The horse ran off and he vowed to kill it when he got home.”
“And you had to hear all of those thoughts,” Treace said. “Did you let on that you knew what he was thinking?”
“Not right away,” Kiril replied. “But that’s not the worst part.”
The sadness he could feel from her went away and only anger and disgust remained. He braced himself for what he was about to hear.
“All of these feelings and images happened quickly,” Kiril explained. “Only a few breaths had passed. When he finally took the time to look around and see me sitting there, his first thought was that I was beautiful. But just as quickly as that thought came, the next one did too. It was how much he wanted to have sex with me. He thought of raping me then, thinking we were out on a mostly untraveled road and he wouldn’t get caught, but in my head I vividly sent pictures of me screaming, biting, and punching at his broken arm. His eyes opened wide and I knew he could feel my anger. I knew he understood that I knew what he was thinking. He became afraid and quickly pulled himself to his feet and jogged off, holding his broken arm as he ran.”
“He didn’t deserve your healing,” Treace said quietly. Broken bones weren’t healed though magic, so he thought the boy had at least paid a price for his vulgar thoughts. It should have been more.
“I know.”
Treace didn’t feel that she held sadness or remorse for what she’d done and he didn’t begrudge her that in the least. He couldn’t imagine being put in that predicament. “Not everyone is like him. For every man who would violate a woman like that, there are twenty who would never think of doing such a thing.”
“I know that too,” Kiril said. “Though it did take me a little while to fully admit that.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“You’re a good person, Treace.”
“Thanks,” he told her, not knowing what else to say to that.
“Which is why I want to apologize.”
“For what?” Treace asked.
“For invading your mind.”
“It’s not like there’s much to invade,” Treace said, trying to make light of the situation.
“Quite the contrary,” Kiril argued. “There’s too much up there. You think about so many things in such a short amount of time. I don’t know how you do it.”
He blushed his response.
“But I blocked you from my thoughts and feelings and invaded yours,” Kiril told him. “So for that I apologize.”
“No apology needed. You’re traveling with two men you don’t know. I’d want to know if I could trust us too.”
“But,” Kiril said, her turn to blush. “I hate to ask this of you, but I need you to stop blaming yourself for my father’s death and, more importantly, I need you to stop thinking about it.”
“Okay,” Treace said slowly, not quite catching on to why she wanted him to stop thinking about her father.
“If you think about him, I think about him,” she explained.
“Sorry,” Treace apologized, though in truth he was still lost.
“For some reason I can still hear your thoughts clearly,” Kiril said. “Not every one of them, but most.”
“I hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much,” he told her, knowing he at least gave away his attraction to her and she already knew about his run in with the prostitute.
“Nothing terrible,” Kiril replied, blushing. “But I had no right to barge in on what you were thinking.”
“And you don’t know how you do it?” Treace asked again.
“I don’t,” Kiril confirmed.
“Your dad didn’t know either?” Treace asked, thinking that Kint most likely knew how to use the same magic or at least understand how it worked.
“I have no idea,” Kiril said. “I never told him I could do it.”
Treace was about to ask why but then realized he didn’t need to. She didn’t ask him because he would want to know how she found out she had the ability. When she told him the circumstances behind how she first knew about the ability, he’d be disappointed that she used her magic when he clearly told her not to.
“Like I said, don’t blame yourself for his death. It’s not your fault. Even if you hadn’t lost to Disdane, who knows what would have happened. If I didn’t let you in the door, you wouldn’t have been there to fight him. My father would have hidden in the bedroom again and I don’t think Disdane would have known he was there. But I can’t blame myself for that either. If anyone is to blame, it’s Disdane.”
Treace wasn’t surprised at her words,
she could read his thoughts. She must have heard his thoughts of blaming himself earlier. She was right and he knew it. But he thought someone else deserved some of that blame. The only person that would have wanted those former magisters was Brental. It’s the only thing that made any sense to him. Brental had to have sent Disdane out there. He deserves some of the blame for sure. Treace wondered if Kiril read those thoughts. Even if she did, it wasn’t like he was ashamed of them. Brental was an ass.
“You’re right,” Kiril told him. “I doubt Disdane came on his own accord.”
“I wonder how long you’ll be able to read me,” Treace marveled.
“I don’t know.”
“How long could you do it the last time?” Treace asked.
“I’m not sure,” Kiril admitted.
“You never saw him again?” Treace asked, speaking of the boy that she had healed. He didn’t know if she would get the context or not.
“Not for a few months. Even then it was from across the street,” Kiril replied, obviously catching his meaning. “But I was relieved when I couldn’t hear what he was thinking.”
“Then we should test it.”
“How?” Kiril asked.
“Randomly throughout the day I’ll think of something specific and keep count of how many times I think of it,” Treace explained. “Then at the end of the day we’ll compare how many times you heard it.”
“And after a few days we’ll know if it’s getting weaker or staying the same,” Kiril said, catching on.
“That’s the idea.”
“What are you going to think about?” Kiril asked.
Treace thought of the forge back in Lake City. He thought of those white-hot coals and a red-hot sword blade lying in them.
“You making a sword,” Kiril said a moment later.
“Exactly,” Treace confirmed, not unimpressed.
“You actually make them?”
“I do,” he replied. “Or used to. I haven’t in some time.”
“Interesting.”
Treace heard a noise and turned to try to locate the source. Moffred was walking back toward the camp humming some tune or another. Plump waterskins bounced over his shoulders as he walked.