There is such strength in those hands. Such power. They could break me with minimal effort, snatch my life away in the lull between two heartbeats. Yet they are unbearably gentle as they move against my skin. His thumb strokes over the highly sensitive hollow of my throat, tracing the pulse that throbs in my jugular. It pounds in double time, as though I’ve just run a great distance. Ironic, as I have never stood quite so still. My feet are firmly planted against the dirt. In this moment, I would not move for anything.
“Penn,” I whisper.
The word breaks whatever spell has fallen over us. His eyes tear up to mine, pausing briefly at my mouth along the way. With one final swipe of his thumb over my pulse, his hand falls back to his side.
“You want to learn about your powers?” His voice is full of gravel. “Then, come. I will teach you what I can.”
I blink. “Now?”
“Unless you have something more pressing to do with your afternoon,” he calls, turning on his heel and striding past the back side of the armory, toward the distant keep. I watch his bare back disappear around the side of the building, a play of rippling bronze muscle in the sun.
After a long, steadying breath, I follow.
We stand facingeach other across the hidden ledge of rock behind the falls. Tucked below a ceaseless cascade of water, the half cavern is totally concealed from view. It is a secret place—the sort you’d never stumble upon accidentally, accessible only by a slippery climb up rough-hewn rock steps through the mist. Strange symbols are etched into the volcanic ash walls. A code of glyphs, indecipherable and ancient. I wonder what they mean, and who carved them. If they have been here as long as the city itself. Perhaps even longer.
The water is a constant roar all around us. We have to shout to hear each other amid the din, even standing a handful of paces apart.
“Focus, Rhya. Find your center.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not hard enough, apparently. I can feel your anxiety through the bond. Your fear. It’s swamping you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Stop reading my emotions!”
“Then conceal them from me. Push me out.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple. Simple as closing your eyes or blocking your ears.”
“You forget this is all new to me. You’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have.” I pause, tilting my head in contemplation. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Old.”
“That’s not very specific.”
His brows knit together. “Older than you, not quite as old as Soren. Old enough to know that putting a number on the age of someone immortal is about as useful as selling ice in the Frostlands. Now, can we get back to more important matters?”
“Fine,” I grit, closing my eyes once more. “I’mfocusing.”
I hear him sigh. I try to ignore it, turning my senses inward to the storm that swirls ceaselessly within. It is less difficult to shut out the roar of the falls or the man standing across from me than it is the worries of my own mind. Penn is right—I am afraid. Afraid to tap into my Remnant again. The last time I did so, I spent the following two days unconscious.
Penn speaks again, much nearer this time. “So long as you’re afraid of your own power, you’re letting it control you. If it controls you, it can overwhelm you. Harm you…along with everyone else around when it inevitably leaks out.”
“So how do I get over the fear?”
“Face whatever it is that makes you afraid.” He pauses. “What scares you so much?”
I swallow hard, hearing Soren’s words in my head.
It will crack your mind like the shell of an egg…
“Rhya. Look at me.”
I open my eyes and stare straight into Penn’s. His face is close—shockingly so.
“Think of your Remnant like a gate, keeping all your power inside,” he murmurs lowly. “When that gate opens, you let a short burst slip through. In the past, that’s only happened when you’ve been scared or when your life was threatened. You’ve unconsciously cracked that gate open, let a bit of your power spill out. Enough to keep you alive, enough to protect you.”