Ava’s heart felt like it had been wrung out in her chest, so agonizing were the screams.

For a sorceress with cerebral gifts like herself, the sound was just the beginning. Ava could feel agony like it was part of her own spirit. Normally, she could ward this off with great care and practice. But not now.

The torment in Ruan’s mind was nearly overwhelming. When his screams finally faded, she felt nothing for several minutes. Ava feared he was dead, and the possibility nearly broke her.

She gripped the arms of her chair so ferociously that the ropes binding her began to cut off circulation.

The world went silent.

Then, Ava felt the dim pulse of unconscious peace emanating from Ruan’s mind, and she crumpled in her chair in the Sacred Hall, and relief swept over.

She had not let her mind dwell on Ruan the past two days. She couldn’t let herself.

But now, her mind whirled. What had happened? Why was Ruan here in the temple? Why was he in such pain? The questions lingered with formless speculations that only rattled her further.

Ava needed sleep. She hardly managed since the attack, no matter how hard she tried. Her mind was growing hazy. She slumped forward, head on the shaman’s desk, and was drifting into blessed oblivion, nearing slumber at last, when the door burst open. The sudden light flared in her vision.

Footsteps. Shadows.

A woman’s voice. “Take this to your father.”

“But…” Malik began.

“When the Consul is gone, we will decide what to do with the girl. For now, I’d like a moment.”

“Yes, mother.”

Ava had known this was coming. Had waited for it all day. There was no way Malik could keep the secret from his own family forever. And she had a job to do. The knowledge filled her with strength once more.

The door closed, and darkness swallowed up the room once more.

Footsteps.

A hand at Ava’s neck. And the gag fell away from her mouth.

Ava licked her parched and aching lips.

“You’re the shaman’s wife.” Ava’s voice croaked.

“Clearly,” the woman said pensively.

A second chair creaked as the woman took a seat. Without even the flick of flints, a small flame ignited from the woman’s palm, and a lantern on the table sparked to life.

“Not bad,” Ava said. She tried to sound warm, casual, but it came out stiff.

She was so exhausted.

The woman nodded. “Not many, even of my people, can create flames from the elements themselves.”

Ava could sense a deeper meaning in the words. The woman was probing, the same as she was.

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“Why are you here?” Ava asked.

“Because you’ve convinced my son—and by extension, my husband—that our people should leave our home. Because you and your father brought this fate upon us. And now, it falls on me to decide what to do with you.”

“Are you a shaman too?”

The woman chuckled darkly. “In truth, I thought you’d be more charming.”

Ava shrugged, then grimaced as her bonds tightened around her wrists at the movement. “It’s been a long couple of days.”

The woman raised her brow. “Why are you sweating so? It’s quite cool in here.”

Ava reached out subtly with her magic, trying to get a read on this woman. A mental wall shot up, and Ava jolted back in her seat.

“Get out of my head, girl,” the mother said.

“Sorry…”

“You were friends with the Pelasius boy.”

Ava nodded.

“My husband and son are both shamans. I know the look when someone else’s pain becomes too much to bear.”

“Is he…”

“He’ll live. No thanks to your father and his… allies.”

“Ruan was a good friend,” Ava said.

“Not good enough, it would seem.”

Ava grimaced. “It grieves me to know he was injured.”

“I’ve met more than one woman like you in my life.”

“A Valucian?”

“A wind catcher.”

“What?”

“That’s what we call someone like you. A manipulator. You had that Pelasius boy wrapped around your finger. Even a casual observer could tell that at the festival alone. You used him to get where you needed. And now, you’re using my son.”

“Is it using someone to show them a mutually beneficial path?”

“You’ve proven convincing enough for my son. But I don’t see it. I think you’re full of shit, Ava Rykus.”

Ava’s body tensed, and more aches shot up her wrists, but her bad hip from sitting idle for two days.

“I I don’t want to see any harm come to your people, that is why—”

“Tell the truth.”

“Madam, I—”

“My name is Madri. And I don’t believe you’re sorry about any of this. You sent my people’s world reeling, and now, you expect us to leave our home so you can lay waste to our most sacred valley. And I don’t think you give a damn about us, any more than you ever cared for that Attican boy.”

Ava straightened up. “You know nothing about me!”

Madri smiled darkly. “Enlighten me, Ava Rykus. Tell me more about your contrived condolences.”

Ava felt a shift in the woman’s mind. She was lowering her mental walls. “Madri, that won’t be…”

“Are you afraid, girl?”

“No.”

“Perhaps, you should be.”

The walls receded at once and images flooded into Ava’s vision in an onslaught.

Running through the streets of the village. People screaming. Hideous creatures darting overhead. Fear tore at her gut. Oh gods, where were her children?

A little Faltari girl cowered against a door, tears streaming. But it was not her child. And she filled with agony, wishing to help, wanting to fight, needing to find her gods-damned children.

The images changed.

A Morph swooped over the village square snatching someone high up and into the air. Terror filled her spirit.

Gods, was that—

The young man soared twenty feet into the air, thrashing wildly. Then plummeted.

Head thudded on the cobblestone ground.

The vision shifted, and Ruan lay on a wooden table. Bloodshot eyes shot open. Ruan shrieked, body jolting with spasms. Fear and pain permeated Ava’s mind as though it were her own.

So much fear.

So much confusion and hurt and sorrow.

The vision faded, and Madri stood over her.

Tears streamed down Ava’s face. It had been years since she’d let herself cry. All her childhood, Ava prided herself on being able to withstand anything. The ridicule of her Attican peers. The pressure of infiltrating the academy and all the bloody secrets. The tragedy that had swallowed up her mother.

But the tears burst forth from some hidden spring in her soul, and Ava could not hold them back.

This was her fault.

It did not matter how just her cause, Ruan had been caught in the crossfire of her family’s rebellion. She had done this to him.

And the walls she’d maintained for so long began to sink into the earth.

“I feel more than most,” Madri said. “Perhaps you know something of what this is like.”

Ava’s body shook. She couldn’t speak.

“In my experience, it manifests in one of two ways. I take on the fears and emotions of others. This serves my people well as the wife of a shaman. But you... you’ve learned the opposite. You’ve learned to transcend your own feelings. To use your gifts to twist the thoughts and feelings of others. To seduce and manipulate. To get your way.”

The tears kept coming. Ava’s entire body shuddered with sobs.

Madri seized her by the chin, and Ava felt all the woman’s anxiety, all her anger.

“No more lies. No more manipulations. Show me who you really are.”