Jomaira walked behind the soldier that was leading her towards the guard. She had told him she had valuable information meant for the guard's ears only. The soldier had stared at her, his gaze tinged with suspicion before he shrugged and told her to follow him. After all, what harm could a young girl do to an imperial guard?

Jomaira didn't know either.

But what other choice did she have? It was no longer a question of can or can't. She had to make it work.

She resisted the urge to turn around and look for Yahya's reassuring smile. She needed it now more than any other time.

“What do we have here?” The imperial guard regarded her with narrowed eyes.

Jomaira swallowed her panic down, and willed herself to a sense of tranquility. She took a deep breath, and fixed her eyes on the guard's stern ones.

“She says she has important information, my lord,” the soldier said.

“About what? What does she have that she couldn't inform a simple soldier?” The guard drawled, completely ignoring her presence. “What's your use if you couldn't even deal with trivial matters?”

Jomaira could feel the soldier tense beside her, his fist clenched by his side. "Sensitive information," he said through gritted teeth. "My lord," he added.

The guard hummed and nonchalantly waved the soldier away. The soldier bowed stiffly and left. Jomaira could hear the soldier's heavy boots as he thundered away, indignant.

"Well, get on with it girl." The guard drawled. "What do you have for me?" He fixed her with his unpleasant black eyes. A patch of darkness. No sclera. No pupils. Just blackness.

A Karr'ynian.

Just her luck to be stuck with one of the naturally well equipped races against a mind suggestion. And to top it off, with a touch to their victim's temple, they could tell whether they were being truthful or deceitful.

She couldn't bluff her way around this.

She was at a disadvantage. Not only was he hard to convince, he could tell she was lying. The best way around this was to stick as close as she could to the truth.

As for his mind resistance. Well, the most robust Karr'ynian would cave under a skilled Lieki.

The problem was, she wasn't a skilled one.

Of course, she deemed herself a competent one. Her parents had taught her well. She was as skilled as any Lieki twice her age. But she wasn't bold enough to deem herself capable of influencing a trained imperial guard. But that didn't mean she wouldn't try.

Amidst the distress and panic raging inside her, she couldn't help feeling a trickle of excitement at the prospect of influencing an imperial guard. Not anyone can claim facing a guard and living to tell the tale.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Now, she only needed to live to tell the tale.

A hysteric chuckle nearly escaped her lips. She cleared her throat and straightened her back.

“We haven't got all day, girl.” His forehead was knotted in impatience. His nonexistent brows added an eerie and somber feeling to his pale face.

“You're looking for someone aren't you?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously at her words. “I know where he is,” she added hurriedly.

“Oh, do you, now?” He said, his voice eerily calm.

Jomaira nodded her head eagerly. “He's holding my friend hostage. Can you please help us? He's going to kill him,” she pleaded, her lower lip wobbling. Calling the tears to her eyes wasn't hard, she only had to force the dome −she had put over her feelings when she had first accidentally touched Ayman's hand− open. They came flooding in, desperate for release.

The guard hummed thoughtfully. “I see.” His head tilted to the side. “So he sent you, a Lieki, for what? To negotiate?” His tongue twisted in disgust, as if the mere existence of her race insulted him.

Jomaira guessed it did.

“You think I believe this nonsense?” His face twisted.

“Please, I'm speaking the truth! I'm not lying! Please, save my friend!” She cried, launching herself at him. She grabbed his hand and he shoved her away. She stumbled back, but soon regained her balance.

Damn it, she thought, how could she influence him if he kept evading her touch?

By now, they had gathered quite an audience. The other soldiers were glancing at them. Some furtively. others plainly staring.

It then came to her.

Karr'ynians took pride in their abilities. They often occupied sensitive office positions for their uncanny ability to discern and pick out any opposing party to the empire.

“Please, if you're not sure I'm telling the truth, you can use a lie detector.” She cried.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, and upon noticing the soldiers' stares, he snapped at them to get back to their work.

“That won't be necessary.” He hissed.

Jomaira readied herself as he reached for her head. She gathered all her remaining powers. The easiest part was done. Soon, she'll make contact with her target. Next came the most crucial and the hardest part.

Influencing him.

Once his hand made contact with her temple, Jomaira put her hand over his, trapping him. She didn't waste a single second in fear of losing this opportunity.

She focused on him. To her, the world ceased existing. There was only her, and her target. She looked deep into his dark eyes, two bottomless pits. She slammed into a transparent shield. She winced, her head throbbing at the force of impact. But still, she pushed, relentlessly. Each time, she could feel a miniscule crack appear in his natural shield. She felt his hand twitch, trying to get away, but she wouldn't let him.

She gathered back, then slammed against his shield, shattering it into many pieces. She felt his pain, it sent an agonizing ripple against her mind. She squinted her eyes shut against the silent scream that echoed through the shattered remains of his mind. She would have liked to wait the pain out, but she couldn't. Anytime now, the other guards would be here.

She gasped a deep breath, then looked at the guard. His eyes were vacant, as if he was no longer here. A mere body without a soul.

For a second, Jomaira pitied him. Having your mental shields shattered was one of the most painful experiences that could cripple one for life. His mind would heal. But she doubted his ability to shield it would as much…

She didn't have a choice.

If only they had listened to them when they had first reported about the bombs.

She pushed past the crumbled pieces of his shield, his mind pliant and yielding. His hand twitched in hers, once, then stilled.

She had won. But for some reason, it didn't feel satisfying. Not one bit.