by Jess Bowen
“So that’s why Cynthia always feels like a furnace,” she commented.
That one, at least, hadn’t escaped her notice. It wasn’t just Ethan and Jared who had a warmer touch; Cynthia usually felt like her skin was blistering.
“Yes, Cynthia’s base temperature is relatively high; she runs about one hundred ten. That’s twenty degrees hotter than your skin, so she’ll definitely feel very hot to you.”
“But I never get hot, or cold for that matter. I can feel that temperatures are different, but they don’t affect me.”
Even as she said that, she knew it wasn’t exactly true. Dorian’s skin might be a few degrees cooler than hers, but she always felt like her skin was burning beneath his touch. However, the burning wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite. It was the best feeling in the world.
“Your powers will automatically regulate your body temperature when it’s needed. When my hand touches yours and the temperature of your skin starts to drop, then your powers will react to keep your body at its normal temperature. Unless that temperature change is helpful or harmful to you, then it will let you feel the difference, so your body can react appropriately.”
She must have looked confused, because he continued on. “For instance, when you were burned, your body let you feel the heat so you would know you were hurt.”
“So our powers are intelligent?”
“Not exactly. They’re imbedded into our subconscious where all of our normal body functions are controlled so they can keep each system in check. That’s also a big reason why our powers are controlled by emotions before we learn to control them with our minds.”
“Is there anything here that isn’t affected by magic?” Phoebe asked.
Dorian frowned as he thought about it for a minute. “Physically, no. All things are affected by magic, but mentally, most everything you think and feel is all your own.”
“Most?” She didn’t like the sound of only most things being her own.
Dorian looked at her incredulously. “Phoebe, of all people, you should know that magic can reach even to ones’ mind.”
His eyes still hadn’t left hers. That was probably why her brain didn’t seem to be functioning up to its usual standards. Didn’t her own talent invade the minds around her when she chose to do so? Could it go even further, to mind control, perhaps? She could find out anything at all about any person she wanted, with a few exceptions…which reminded her of the original source of her frown that Dorian had misinterpreted earlier.
Phoebe stretched, sat up, and turned to face Dorian. He sat up as well and crossed his legs in front of hers as he faced her and took her hands in his. Her skin tingled when he traced patterns up her forearm. It would have been enough to distract her under normal circumstances, but she couldn’t take the mystery any more.
“Did you teach an instructional course on how to block me?” she demanded.
The corners of Dorian’s mouth twitched as he caught the accusation in her voice. He didn’t look up from her arm as he spoke. “Why?” His tone indicated that he knew what was bothering her.
“Hector!” she exclaimed. “He’s better than you are! I can’t get anything from him!”
Dorian actually laughed. Phoebe tried to glare, but when Dorian looked up, she wasn’t very successful under his gaze, not to mention the continued trail of his fingers up her arm. “I forgot to warn you about that. I wouldn’t bother trying to read him if I were you. You’ll never get anything.”
She frowned, finally totally distracted from the sensation on her arm. “Why?”
Dorian’s eyes were amused. “As a scout, Hector is one of the best of the best because of his talent.”
“Which is…” she pressed.
“Impenetrable skin, absolutely nothing can pass through his skin. Nothing physical, and no powers or talents can affect him. He can also alter his appearance.”
“You mean like I can.”
“Not even close. You can take on any shape and characteristic, and with Channeling you can take on powers too. Hector can only make himself look older or younger, and he can also make it looked like he’s wounded when he’s not.”
“So the scars…”
“All fake, all but one. He does have one weakness—a Shamarian’s blade. We have no idea what’s on it, but it’s the one thing that can cut through his skin. But, since nothing else can get through, beneficial or not—such as the witch’s magic—the wound had to heal over time.” Dorian rolled his eyes. “But Hector likes to impress. He’s also a lot younger than he looked yesterday. Yesterday he looked like he was pushing seventy-five, but he’s really only twenty-four.”
Phoebe was still getting used to the differences in how people aged. She knew Hector had looked older than Dorian the day before, but he had looked no older than twenty-five by Non-Magic years. She was impressed; Hector had a great talent, although it frustrated her at the same time. She was so used to reading people; having to get to know someone a normal way seemed like quite a chore. It was never something she had really had to do.
“What are you thinking?” Dorian asked after she had been silent for a few moments.
He lifted her chin up so he could look at her eyes to see if she was still in the same room with him. She smiled.
“I’m just so used to hearing others’ thoughts; it’s actually kind of frustrating now when I can’t.”
Dorian pulled Phoebe forward slightly, and his eyes blazed into hers. “Yes, poor Phoebe. I feel so bad for you.”
She knew he was being sarcastic, the smile on his lips gave it away, but she couldn’t think of a good retort at that particular moment. He shifted and placed his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She laid her head against his shoulder and sighed in contentment, gazing out the window to see that it was dark out.
“What time is it?”
He started twirling a strand of her hair. “About five o’clock in the morning. You can go back to sleep for a few hours if you want to.”
“What are we doing today?”
“I just thought I would get into our first training session with Hector. The others are very eager to get back on schedule, especially after yesterday.”
“How are they doing?” Phoebe asked.
“They’re each handling it in their own way, just as you did. Their reactions might not have been as strong as yours, but they all have their own anger and sadness to deal with. Now, would you like to sleep?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not tired, but I am rather hungry.” Just then her stomach growled loudly to emphasize the point.
Dorian chuckled. “I forgot you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”
Before Phoebe could do anything, he snapped his fingers, and she scowled as she sat up. “I didn’t mean I was too weak to walk down to the dining hall.”
“Phoebe, you know I don’t think of them like servants. That’s the only way to summon them,” Dorian said.
“It’s still degrading. How would you like to be snapped at all the time? No one else pays them one iota of attention except for wondering where their food is,” she replied.
Dorian’s smile disappeared, and his eyes turned cold. “Complacency, remember?”
Phoebe’s irritation vanished. She hadn’t forgotten. She had come to terms with it, but she definitely had not forgotten. Link zoomed in through the door and bowed.
“How may I be of assistance to Sir and Miss today?”
Dorian’s expression changed to kindness as he spoke to the tiny gnome. “Hello, Link, thank you for coming so quickly. Would you be so kind as to bring Phoebe some breakfast, please?”
Link practically jumped in excitement. “Of course, Sir! I would be honored! What would Miss like?”
She smiled warmly at the gnome. “Glume is fine, Link. Thank you so much.”
Link bowed and exited the room at top speed. Dorian turned back to her when the door had closed. His forehead wrinkled in concern.
“I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She shook her head. “No, didn’t you tell me not to say I’m sorry?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then the same goes for you,” she said as she cut Dorian off. “This is the way things are. I’m learning so much about how things are here. And I already feel better. Knowing, I mean. It’s not quite as overwhelming as I thought it would be, just bad, very, very bad.”
Phoebe considered her emotions for a minute. For the first time in a long time she didn’t have to fight with her anger to control it. She could feel it in a small part of her, but it wasn’t trying to control her; she was controlling it. The horrible images playing over and over in her mind gave her more determination—that was an evil she could fight against. Kali, on the other hand, was a different matter. Phoebe turned her mind away from Cassius’s niece before she had a chance to get angry.
“I do have one question though,” she said.
“Anything,” Dorian murmured.
She lay back against his shoulder and breathed deeply, taking in his wonderfully unique aroma before posing her question. “What are we fighting for?”
He didn’t even pause to consider his answer. “Humanity.”
“I don’t understand.”
Dorian tightened his arms around her. “You’ve seen what people are already like. They know what’s going on, and yet they no longer want to fight to stop it. Before long, they won’t care at all. Some of them may even join him. How many will die when that happens? Petrozan sees humans as disposable—how long before there’s none of us left? Or how long before humans are nothing more than wild animals, doing whatever it takes to survive, no matter who might get hurt in the process?”
“But Petrozan and Esmeralda are both human. How is eliminating their own race going to do them any good?”
“Because then there’s no one left to oppose them. They see human emotions as a weakness. Only those who can act as if they have none will survive. Even when they die, there will be nothing left.”
Phoebe shivered and curled into Dorian’s chest. Link came back into the room and delivered her food. Dorian thanked him, and the gnome sped off again to start breakfast for everyone else. Dorian reached out and pulled the tray over to them.
“You need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Phoebe, please, for me?”
She sighed but uncurled from his chest and picked up her bowl. She thought over everything Dorian had said while she ate. As the sun slowly rose outside the window, Phoebe realized they weren’t fighting simply so people wouldn’t suffer, and they weren’t even fighting for freedom—they were fighting for their very survival as a species. Dorian watched her eat but said nothing. She couldn’t help but picture a desolate wasteland with Petrozan and Esmeralda standing triumphant upon a mound of the dead bodies of all the people that she loved.
“Dorian?” Phoebe said suddenly.
He was startled when her voice came out of nowhere but recovered quickly. “Yes?”
“I can’t live without you.”
Several emotions passed over his face quickly, but she was preoccupied with her own feelings. She knew it was true, with every beat of her heart; she knew that she couldn’t live if he didn’t.
“Nor can I live without you,” he replied.
“Then I’m ready to go to training. I’m ready to fight.”
Phoebe leaned against Dorian’s chest as she ate so she couldn’t see his face, but his arms constricted around her. A gesture that clearly said “I’m not ready to let you go.” It wasn’t a choice either of them could make. They would fight and they could die. The only choice they had was when.
***
Evan sparred with Dorian as Cynthia, Jared, and Phoebe lounged in the stands. Since they had been pulled out of the regular training arena, they had moved to a slightly smaller one with only one tier around the room. They were still waiting for Ethan, Lucy, and Hector to arrive, and Evan, impatient as always, had started without them. Phoebe was glad to have Hector coming in because everyone would have their own partner again. Evan was usually her partner, but he had taken on the additional task of assisting Dorian with demonstrations when Hector had been held in isolation for an extra two weeks. After they mastered each move, they would spar with one another and with Dorian, but they were unevenly matched and someone always had to go twice. Not that anyone minded two turns—Evan was usually overexcited to do it—but it was irritating because it slowed things down.
On the other hand, having their own training schedule was nice because they could work on everything at the same time. Instead of having Elemental training on Tuesday and Thursday morning, they now worked on them along with combat training. They combined all their training every day, and because they were progressing rapidly, they had Sundays off. Cassius also came down in the afternoons to help everyone with their talents, instead of just Phoebe, and so her evenings were free too. During this time, Ethan, Cynthia, and Evan carried on with whatever they felt like doing. The new training program was much more relaxed, and it was easier to focus, especially without Kali.
Jared shook his head. “He does that every time!”
Evan was on the mat, pinned by Dorian and cursing. Dorian laughed.
“You can’t move like that when you’re in that position. It weakens the leg you’ve got your weight on, and all I have to do is twist to bring you down.”
Evan grumbled. “I know, I know. I can’t help it. Phoebe is the only one who can get out of that hold. We can’t all read minds!”
Phoebe laughed. “Trust me; mind reading doesn’t help with that hold.”
Evan waved his arm forward as he caught his breath. “Show me again, please.”
He stood off to the side of the mat, and Phoebe stood up and stretched. She stepped to the middle of the arena and faced Dorian. He was about twelve feet away. She broke free of her mind’s cage and went straight to his. He smiled.
Not fighting fair today? he thought.
Phoebe shook her head.
You’ll have to at least let me put you in the hold.
She nodded.
Dorian flipped through strategies as he moved toward her. He always tried to make a split second decision, but it never worked. Even though he continued to flip through attacks, she could see that he had already made a decision and was just trying to throw her off. She kept her body standing casually until just before he lunged. She slipped down into a crouch to meet him. He mentally cursed as she countered him perfectly, and she laughed.
Phoebe had his arms locked behind his back, and he paused as he thought over how best to get his arm out and put her into the hold in the same movement. Phoebe chuckled again as she waited for him to decide. If this were a real fight, if either of them were to pause like this, they would be dead. But this was just a demonstration. Phoebe could tell his arm was starting to go numb as he tried to decide, which made her laugh once more.
You just wait until you have to fight Hector. What are you going to do then? he thought.
Her mind snapped back to her body like a rubber band in shock. She hadn’t thought of that.
That brief moment of distraction was enough time for Dorian to twist and put her in the painful hold. She didn’t even have time to react.
“Cheater,” she hissed.
“All’s fair in love and war,” he chanted softly just outside of her ear.
“Move as slowly as you can so I can see everything!” Evan called.
Phoebe’s lower back was already throbbing from the pressure the hold placed on that area. Dorian had her twisted with her arms trapped. The only leverage she had were her legs, where her knees rested in the mat. If her legs weakened or moved even slightly, Dorian would only have to shift and the added weight would bring her down to the mat. That was the mistake Evan always made because the first instinct was to shift to the right, thereby taking the weight and leverage off the left leg to relieve the pressure on the lower back.<
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Phoebe fought against the urge to relieve the pressure and focused on what she needed to do to get out. The muscles in her legs protested the prolonged tightness from supporting half of Dorian’s weight. To get out, she would have to twist even further, which would hurt her back even more. It wouldn’t be so bad if she could just shift to the right to relieve some of the pressure as she had originally wanted to do. Phoebe gritted her teeth and twisted, leaving her legs locked into place. Pain shot all the way up her back. She groaned.
“Come on, love, I know you can do it,” Dorian encouraged her.
Now came the difficult part, she had to twist a little more and lift most of Dorian’s weight with just her lower back. She twisted, ignored the increased pain shooting through her, heaved, and pushed Dorian back slightly. It was enough to pull one of her arms out. She was finally able to lean to the right and brace Dorian’s sudden weight shift with her free arm. She turned her back into its normal position and lifted Dorian over her shoulder. He landed on his feet in front of her. She jumped to her feet as well, but Dorian held his hands up in surrender.
Someone applauded. Phoebe spun around and winced as pain shot through her back again. Ethan, Lucy, and Hector had arrived. Evan and everyone else moved to the middle of the floor with Evan grimacing as he walked up.
“How do you twist like that? Doesn’t it hurt your back even worse?”
Dorian was already kneading the knots in her back to ease the pain left over from the hold.
“Of course it does,” Phoebe answered, “but it’s either that or be pinned. Although, if you prefer losing…”
Horror crossed over Evan’s face. “No, I mean, I’ll do it. It just doesn’t look like fun.”
Ethan rolled his eyes and guided everyone off to the side so they could start stretching for regular training. Dorian’s hands became soft on Phoebe’s back as the last knot was smoothed out, and his arm wrapped around her waist. Hector studied her seriously, and she felt heat creep up in her cheeks. She had all but forgotten her behavior from the day before. She began to worry about whether Hector was as forgiving and understanding as everyone else had been.
