Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Then these feelings compound, growing. Then even more. The ringing intensifies. Kyle staggers back, fighting a sudden urge to vomit, gripping his head, squeezing shut his eyes.
“That’s so cute,” says Ashara. “He is trying to read me.”
“Oh, is he?” asks Markadian, then lets out a laugh. “I would not try to do that, Mr. Amos.”
“What the—” Kyle’s heels find a chair. He drops onto it. After clutching his head, the ringing sensation begins to recede, like the feedback from a microphone fading. “—the fuck …?”
“My talent is like a mirror,” says Ashara. “When you sense my feelings, you’ll only see your own, and back and forth the reflections go, back and forth, infinitely, until you look away.”
Only now have the vibrations calmed enough for Kyle to open his eyes, but he doesn’t dare bring himself to look Ashara in hers, afraid his Reach will fling out by habit. Other than Wendy, he’s never had to worry about its automatic operation.
“Sorry,” he finally manages to say, “didn’t mean to invade.”
“Yes, you did,” she says back—then smiles. “I’m impressed you weren’t driven insane after a few seconds, honestly.”
Markadian chuckles, his glass balanced loosely between his fingers, as he calmly observes Kyle’s discomfort. “It is not that special. Aren’t we all sensitive to others’ feelings? Sensitive to others’ falsehoods? Insecurities? Talents of the heart are weak.”
“I suppose that depends on the heart,” returns Ashara.
Markadian glances at his sister, his chuckling stopped.
She struts up to Kyle, stands over him like a tower made of dark green emeralds. “It’s true that not everyone has a powerful gift of the mind,” she says to Markadian, her sharp eyes affixed to Kyle, “like yours, brother. And not everyone has a powerful gift of the body, like I do with my … reflectiveness. We say the third kind come from the heart, but I’ve always found that to be misleading, as they do not literally come from the heart at all. In fact, no one knows where they come from any more than one can say what comprises a soul. The soul isn’t in any one place, is it? Not the brain, not the body, not the heart. It’s everywhere. Within you, around you. It’s … a part of your everything, maybe even a part of the people you touch along the way in life. Hidden somewhere deep in between all of that mess, that’s where the gift lives. In India, we call them ‘soul charms’.”
Without missing a beat, Markadian scoffs and sets down his glass. “Meaningless pretention. All of it’s a bunch of masturbatory conjecture. No matter what you call the gift, it’s weak.”
“But even weakness is a matter of perspective.” She takes Kyle’s hand, inviting him out of the chair, to his feet. “My life thus far has shown me even subtle things can be strong. Like the flick of a butterfly wing … the taste of vanilla ice cream …” Her eyes turn soft. Her voice, too. “… the stroke of a violin.”
Kyle peers back into her eyes. Noises of the party around them on all sides, yet none of it seeming to touch his ears. The cackling of laughter at a joke. The scrape of a chair’s legs across the floor. Tinkling of glasses. All of it fading.
“My brother thinks you’re weak,” she says, and though it is obvious that Markadian can hear her, it feels like the words are meant just for Kyle. “But I believe you are stronger than you seem, just from the brief time we have spent together here right now. Perhaps you believe it, too. People like you and I … we know it takes only a single drop of water to erode a mountain.”
Kyle hears Tristan’s words again—a drop of water, into a river, into a lake, into an ocean …
Kyle turns to Markadian suddenly. “Tristan … he said you invited me here to renegotiate our deal.”
After a brief look at his sister, Markadian nods. “To be fair, it’s the deal between me and Tristan that has been renegotiated to spare him his immortal life. It’s much too valuable to hold in the balance of your cooperation, anyhow. I thought it only fair to relieve him of that responsibility and, instead, offer you a far, far simpler agreement. A truce, like I said before.”
“A truce with what conditions?” asks Kyle.
Markadian chuckles. Kyle picks up Markadian’s amusement at how skeptical Kyle is being. There is a dark undertone to the man’s amusement, something deeply unsettling and cold.
“The conditions are simple.” Markadian folds his arms. “As long as you cause no harm to me or any member of the House of Vegasyn, you and the people of Nowhere will be left alone to live your life in any way you please. A suspiciously simple task, is it not?” he asks. “But there is zero catch. Zero need for suspicion. Take me for my word. If you do not harm me, I will not harm you. A truce in the truest sense that a truce can possibly be.”