While the more vocal among them voiced their opinions and concerns, Talia paid closer attention to her mindsense. Even without diving into a person’s every passing thought, she could tell a lot about them by the way the flame of their minds shifted and moved.

The duo of humans —whose names she still hadn’t learned— seemed equal parts awed, outraged, and afraid. Lored and his clanmates radiated concern and mild trepidation. Bruce, the quiet giant, emanated unfazed acceptance. Something told Talia that he was the least surprised out of all of them, rivalled only by Silversweep. The beastkin positively glowed with smug amusement and a sense of…veneration? Pride? Worship? Perhaps a combination of the three.

Odd.

The boy, Colum, was shocked, but from what Talia had seen so far, that was nothing new. His minders, on the other hand, were suddenly much more interesting. Their minds were blank. Not still or unsurprised, but blank. As if they didn’t even exist.

Zaric and Lazarus did the same thing when I came into my psionics.

When he’d still be sane, the older mage implied that the technique required training to learn, not to mention serious force of will. From her experience on the night of her awakening, Talia was sure that she could push past the block, but the fact that the gangers knew the technique in the first place was strange. That they weren’t even sure she was a psion implied an instinct that must have been trained into them or a suspicious nature that seemed out of place in the odd pair.

Hopefully, it doesn’t interfere with what I have planned.

“All right, you lot, settle down,” Grif grumbled, “I’m sure our young mage here will answer yer questions, but not if you chatterboxes keep nattering.”

The voices died down until once more silence held them all in its grasp. Then the first question.

“What kinda mage are ye?” Lored asked.

Talia looked the redheaded dwarf in the eyes.

“A kinetic evoker, and a psion,” she answered curtly.

“A wha?” one of the dwarf’s clanmates asked.

Talia fought the urge to sigh.

“A force mage, and a mind mage.”

The looks of suspicion and concern were instant and ubiquitous.

“You been messing with our heads?” one of the humans accused.

“No.”

Someone muttered something that Talia didn’t quite catch. Something along the lines of ‘Isn’t that what she would say if she was?’

“I haven’t, but I will need limited access if my plan is to work.”

That got a few raised eyebrows but seemed to confuse more than inform. Then came the question Talia had been most expecting.

“Where’s your mage collar?” one of the humans asked, hands on the hafts of her axes.

Talia favoured the woman with a flat gaze.

I should have created a fake.

“I don’t have one. Never got one, and before you ask, no, I don’t know how to make one.”

Nor will I ever wear one.

“Soulless rogue,” the woman hissed.

“I have—” Talia was interrupted by a stone-faced Calisto, her eyes glaring.

“Arcanist Talia has been vouched for by a trusted source and is too young to develop mage-madness before it becomes an issue. The problem of a collar is currently unresolvable, and besides the point,” Calisto interjected, “It’s also a boon, since if she had one, she wouldn’t be out here with us, and we would likely be dead many times over, either in the past or in the future. Instead of focusing your energy on suspicion, I advise you to put it into preparing yourselves for what’s to come.”

Silversweep’s silent cackle didn’t escape Talia; the beastkin woman was odd but harmless.

I hope.

“Couldn’ we just grab the one off Zaric for her? He doesn’ need it anymore, and I can’t say I like the sound of a mind mage going looney on us. Might even be worth heading back to haven,” Kaina suggested, “We get that, problem solved.”

The dwarves turned on the ganger nearly as one.

“Aye, an’ next ye’ll be unearthin’ me ancestors ey? Grab a hairbrush off me dear ol’ great grandmum, while yer at it, why don’ ye?” one of Lored’s clanmates ground out with a scowl, “By the old gods, why dun’ we jus’ start raidin’ Stonecrypts fer loot; mayhap there’s a nice set of adamite armour or two lyin’ around jus’ waiting fer ye ter nick it.”

“Filthy cryptrobber,” the other muttered, falling silent as Lored placed a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.

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“Ye don’ mess with those put ta’ Stone, lass,” Lored explained, “Not fer convenience, not fer anything. Let the dead rest, ye ken?”

The ganger opened her mouth to snap back but fell silent with a grunt as Yasida elbowed her in the gut.

“Enough,” Calisto ordered, “Arcanist Talia is risking much to offer us her help, and now is not the time for what-ifs. If that is all for the questions? Yes? Good, then we had best be moving on to the next steps of the plan. Arcanist, if you please?”

The team grumbled amongst each other, and the human woman glared daggers at the newly revealed mage, but otherwise, they settled down. Talia nodded, unfazed by the byplay, satisfied with the fact that the revelation hadn’t come to blows or worse.

And here I thought it would be worse. Shows what I know.

Talia darted into the side office to grab a stool, sparking more confusion in the company as she sat down in front of them. Crowded as they were in the small shelter, she could only imagine the effects that another surprise would have.

“You may want to sit for this next part,” she advised.

When they were all seated, Calisto included, Talia turned to the second problem.

“Yasida, Kaina, what I’m attempting won’t work if you keep doing…whatever it is you’re doing.”

The gangers jolted in unison. Yasida looked at her, slack-jawed and somewhat sheepish. Kaina’s brows drew into a frown.

Did they think I was lying, or did they think I wouldn’t notice?

Shaking her head slightly at Calisto’s questioning glance, Talia continued to stare at the pair, fully aware that the rest of the group had also turned to look at them. Eventually, the gangers relented, and the light of their minds flared up on her mindsense once more.

“Thank you. I promise that the contents of your thoughts are likely… highly uninteresting to me.”

Uncaring of whether or not the two were reassured, Talia pushed onward.

“Delvemaster, we’ll start with you. This may feel…odd,” she advised.

“What may—” Colum started.

“Shh—” Grif shushed, “Let her work.”

Ignoring them, Talia closed her eyes and began building the imagery she would need. The spell needed to be lightweight, as she had need for her focus and mana elsewhere. But if her long-ago conversation with the Matriarch was to be believed, what Talia intended was almost exactly what psionics had originally been intended for: the sharing of thoughts. Hopefully, that meant the strain on her powers would be acceptable.

As for the design itself, she’d already somewhat mastered one-way communication with Menace. Now, she just had to figure out two-way communication.

I should have practiced with Calisto first. Too late now, but at least I can start with her.

The wholly manipulated thread she usually used wouldn’t cut it. She needed something more static. Taking inspiration from some spells she’d seen in the Fragment of the Weave, Talia began by picturing an anchor, something for the tendrils to latch onto and stick. Then, she drew a pair of lines between her and Calisto impressing the need for the communication to be intentional. It wouldn’t do for the delvemaster’s every thought to begin leaking through the connection like water out of a leaky bucket.

Not trying to infiltrate their minds. I just need them to be able to talk to me, each other, and vice versa.

Having no concrete clue how to achieve that, Talia took Zaric’s advice to heart and simply imposed her will on the construct, hoping it would be enough. When it all clicked into place in her mind, almost of its own volition, Talia held her breath and pulse a stream of mana into the spellform, designating the delvemaster as her target once more for safety.

Talia and Calisto both shivered in unison.

Feels like someone cracked an egg on my head. Brrr.

When the feeling faded, all Talia was left with was the sensation of a taught cord drawn between the two of them.

Time to test it.

< Calisto? Can you hear me? >

The other woman didn’t react outwardly, but she flicked ice-blue eyes at Talia in alarm.

“Yes, I can hear you,” the delvemaster answered slowly.

< Good. Could you try to answer, please? > Talia continued telepathically.

“How?”

< Just think about talking, as if you’re about to speak, and then think about me. It’s hard to explain, but it should be intuitive. >

< …ou hear me? > Calisto tried.

Talia smiled, turning to the muttering delvers looking on as Calisto seemingly held a conversation with herself. Success.

Now to do it again.

By the time every member of the team had a telepathic link, Talia’s head was pounding. It wasn’t so much that the spell itself caused strain, it was more so the intense focus combined with repetition that wore on her mental faculties. There was also the issue of making sure that the delvers could communicate with each other, and not just her, which had been a head-scratcher. At least until Talia figured out that she could use herself as a relay for their words. The result in her psionic senses was a sprawling web of tendrils of which she was the metaphorical spider.

As she’d continued, she’d also worried that the spell might start taking a toll on her Core, but that hadn’t been the case.

It’s almost like the spell goes dormant when not in use…

A function she hadn’t added in personally.

Did I add it in subconsciously? Is that even possible? Or did I just stumble on a feature of psionic spells in general? The…other spells I’ve discovered have all had varied mana usages, with no apparent link.

The only spell that had ripped the mana from her channels with a vengeance was the ‘kill’ spell she’d used on Zaric, and even then, all she’d felt was pain as the manaburn tore ambient mana from the air to fuel it.

A surge of indifference flooded in from the crystal mind spell, diverting her focus to her next steps. Curiosity was unproductive. It worked, and it wouldn’t be a drain on her. That was all that mattered.

< Can everyone hear me? > Talia asked.

The delvers all stopped what they were doing. Some had seemed troubled, lost in thought or brooding, but most had been marvelling at the ease of silent communication, laughing and joking as they exchanged telepathic quips and barbs. Each exchange drew from her mana inflow, not draining enough to touch her Core.

A chorus of assents rang through the link, jumbling in Talia’s head. Turning to Calisto, Talia continued.

< Good. A few more steps, and then we should be ready to leave. >

< I need a smaller team to test out a spell, > Talia said, directing it only to the delvemaster.

The delvemaster’s hood was up, her face nothing but an indistinct shadow, but Talia got the sense that the chronicler was cautiously curious.

< What did you have in mind? >

Talia grinned ferally.

< I’m pretty sure I can…incapacitate any urvai we come across. I just need to make sure it works before we set out. >

< I don’t think we should be testing something so dangerous on our fellows… >

Seems like even mind-to-mind communication does not eliminate miscommunication.

< I didn’t mean testing it on them, > Talia reassured, < I just meant I need them nearby if something goes wrong. Unless you’re alright with me going on my own, that is. >

< Ah, yes. I suppose that makes more sense, > Calisto replied, turning to the company and pointing, < Grif, Silversweep, and…Lored. You’ll be accompanying Talia on a scouting mission. Leave your packs here. >

The trio nodded, stripping away anything that would hinder them in a fight and limbering up weapons.

Time to go mess with some perceptions.