Bastial Energy (32 page)

She heard members of the crowd wondering her thoughts aloud.
Where are they from? We have allies?

Someone recognized the banner and was proud to prove it. “Ten red stars on a black flag, that’s Tenred’s seal.”

Zeti waited for answers about why they were there, but only more questions were murmured within the crowd.

Chapter 35: Manipulate

CLEVE

Each step closer to Kyrro City felt like walking toward the edge of a cliff. Even with the most powerful psychic at his side, Cleve felt he had to prepare for their blood to be spilled. Yet, somehow his hands were steady, his heartbeat regular. He couldn’t imagine a scenario that didn’t involve him dead or imprisoned, so why was he calm?

“Are you using psyche to relax me?” he asked.

Rek’s hood was pulled so far forward his face was completely hidden from the side. “I’ll need all my energy to get us into the castle, so I wouldn’t waste any on you.”

Before leaving, Rek had prepared them a small feast, figuring they wouldn’t have another chance to rest or eat. His cabin was loaded with various meats. “It’s unlikely I’ll return. Eat as much as you can,” he’d told Cleve, explaining after how hunting as a psychic was easy. With the ability to sense the minds of animals and entice them, finding food was the least of his troubles. But none of that distracted Cleve enough to ignore that Rek had admitted it was unlikely he would return.

Nearly halfway through the Fjallejon pathway, Rek whispered, “Don’t look up. We’re being watched with curious eyes. Surely we’re to be questioned by the Fjallejons soon, and if they recognize me, they’ll send a pigeon to notify King Welson. That would change our chance of success from unlikely to impossible.”

More like from impossible to absolutely impossible.
The thought made his nerves jumpy. Cleve put his hands on top of his head and forced himself to take a few long breaths.

After another mile, a Fjallejon stood in their path. It looked like the same man who’d questioned Cleve yesterday. Rek squeezed Cleve’s shoulder. “Walk in front of me until we’re closer,” Rek whispered. “I’ll talk.”

“Who walks behind you?” the Fjallejon called out when Cleve stepped in front of Rek.

Cleve whispered, “How much farther do you need?”

“Ten, twenty steps,” Rek replied, pushing Cleve gently to let him know they needed to hasten their pace.

“A friend,” Cleve answered the Fjallejon with a shout and sped his steps.

“Move, so I can see friend.” The Fjallejon gestured with his spear.

Cleve felt his stomach tighten. “We can’t arouse too much suspicion,” he whispered, “or they’ll call the guards without needing to see you.”

The Fjallejon jabbed his spear at the air. “Move now!”

“Do it,” Rek whispered.

Cleve stepped aside and the Fjallejon squinted his beady eyes. “What is your name?” he called out.

“Cleve. I crossed this road yesterday.”

“No, the other. Remove hood.”

Rek slowly extended his hand and pivoted his elbow to wave. His hood remained. “I’m merely a visitor from Tenred wishing to see Kyrro. I wouldn’t harm anyone. You can tell by my friendly face.”

The Fjallejon lowered his spear. “Yes, I see that. You may pass.”

Rek put his hand back on Cleve’s shoulder as they walked by, and Cleve felt relief slowly move through him.

When their path twisted and the Fjallejon was no longer in view behind them, Rek took his hand from Cleve’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “He still may alert the King if other Fjallejons convince him I was too suspicious. No matter how powerful my psyche, the spell won’t last on intelligent minds.”

He felt his muscles clench. “Can you stop the pigeon, then?”

“If it flies low enough, I suppose.”

Only a sliver of the sky was in their line of sight. Finding a bird would take more than a little luck. “How long until your spell wears off?” Cleve asked.

“I changed the way he observed me. That’s done. It’s over like any other first impression, and nothing can change how he felt during it. But I have no more control now that we’re out of range. He could’ve been persuaded to send a pigeon already. There’s no way to know.” It was the first time since they’d met that Rek didn’t sound confident.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Cleve muttered. “Although it may be an extra few miles, we should go around the Academy instead of through it. I think they may have lookouts watching for me.”

Rek’s hand found a comfortable spot on his chin.
He doesn’t like the idea,
Cleve thought.
He’s thinking of a better option, but there is none.

“Do you have friends or family within the Academy’s walls?” Rek asked.

Oh, that’s right. He doesn’t know Terren is my uncle
.
Nor will he. No one else needs to get involved in this mess.

“Absolutely not.” Cleve was firm in his answer. But the grin he got from Rek made his words feel inadequate. “If you use psyche on me to change my mind, I’ll hurt you first chance that comes.” He spoke sternly.

“You want their help.” Rek stated it like a fact. “Whoever they may be.”

“I do, but only because their company would be comforting, not valuable. With more people around, we’ll stand out like prostitutes in a training center.”

Rek took his hand off his chin. “Right, you don’t want to risk them being hurt. I understand.”

True.
Cleve felt silly for trying to hide it from Rek. He nodded to show the Elf he was right.

They walked for half a mile without speaking until the silence began creating questions in Cleve’s mind. “You told me earlier that you changed the way the Fjallejon saw you. Does that also mean psychics can make themselves beautiful in others’ eyes, even if they’re not?” If anyone had answers to the questions that came with Reela, it would be Rek.

“Not even I can cure ugliness.” Rek turned to show Cleve a wry smile. “Yes, powerful psychics can slightly alter feelings. We can make people appear friendlier than they would normally. Mind you, the word I use is
alter
not
change
. If a woman already is beautiful in your eyes, I may be able to amplify that beauty, even spin it into lust. However, the best I can do with a woman who you have no interest in would be to make her slightly more attractive. In order to maintain the spell, I would have to use energy for it constantly. As soon as the spell was over, you would see her as your mind naturally would, which wouldn’t be much different.”

Cleve’s heart fluttered.
So Reela is either constantly using psyche on me or the way she makes me feel is naturally happening without psyche? No, neither of those could be true. But would Rek lie to me about this? No, there would be no reason for that. Still, it doesn’t make sense.

Rek turned Cleve’s shoulder to get a better look at his face. Most of the Elf’s coffee-brown hair was tucked into his hood, but a few strands had come loose, glistening conspicuously. Rek looked concerned, and Cleve figured he must have had the same expression himself.

“You may figure our attractions should be easy to alter because of how quickly they can arise.” Rek subtly shook his head. “But that’s not the case.”

“This morning you made all my muscles convulse.” Cleve could hear frustration coming out with each word. “You’re telling me you can do that but you can’t make someone be attracted to you if they normally wouldn’t be?” He realized this was the answer he wanted. If Reela had used psyche on him then everything would make sense. But if that wasn’t the case, then it would open the door to new possibilities…possibilities he didn’t even want to consider.

“A slight attraction? Yes, I can do that. Staggering beauty or lust, however? No, I cannot, not to intelligent beings at least. The feelings we have for each other may
seem
to sway easily, but only fickle feelings like anger, joy, gratification, and being comfortable can be greatly manipulated.”

Cleve’s heart dropped into his stomach. He decided he didn’t want to hear anything else about it, but Rek wasn’t finished.

“If we truly believe someone to be beautiful, it will take far more than psyche to change that. Pain, however, comes and goes so easily. We can even feel it just by watching someone else being hurt. That unfortunately makes it one of the easier spells to learn.” His eyes steadied back on the twisting road ahead. He tucked his loose hair out of sight.

They walked at a lively pace, their footsteps echoing rhythmically up the sides of the mountains. Rek didn’t have much to say unless Cleve gave him a question. There was something about him that reminded Cleve of Reela, and it wasn’t just the shape of his eyes. There were other things as well: the shine of his hair from the few strands that continued to slip out from his hood, the way he walked with a slight roll of his shoulders.

The silence continued to produce questions. Although they weren’t about Reela, Cleve still knew he probably shouldn’t ask them. But his curiosity was nagging, getting stronger the longer they remained quiet. He knew it could be the only opportunity he’d get.

Eventually he just blurted it out. “What did King Welson tell you that he meant to keep secret? Was it something about my father?” He tightened his face in hesitation as he waited for Rek to answer.

Rek placed his hand on Cleve’s shoulder to stop him. The Elf was about half a head shorter than him, but the way he looked into Cleve’s eyes made Cleve feel like a child. Rek tilted his head curiously. His mouth remained flat, indifferent.
He’s not trying to figure out how to answer; he’s wondering if he should.

“Some answers are best kept until the right time.” Rek’s voice was carefully sensitive. “Right now, all you need to know is our plan.” Rek removed his hand and picked up the pace. “Keep your mind on getting me in the same room as Welson Kimard and have faith. No man can touch me while I’m conscious. We’ll get there.”

Cleve felt like he’d just finished a duel. He was breathing heavily, and his lips were dry. He had a gulp from his water pouch. He tried to push his curiosity out of his mind but then a new concern came to him.

“What would you have me do if a guard recognizes you from afar and runs to the castle?”

“Have you ever heard of a warrior running away?” Rek snickered. “Their pride is stronger than common sense.” The comment was offensive yet true, Cleve knew, so he didn’t argue. “I left Kyrro City nearly twenty years ago,” Rek continued. “So it’s unlikely I’ll be recognized unless my hood comes down.”

Cleve was left to dwell on his own thoughts as they walked through the rest of the Fjallejon pathway in silence. The gravity of what they were about to attempt started to settle into his mind.
Forcing our way past guards to get to the King could be looked at as an attempt to attack him. We could be put to death for that.
A fear fell onto his heart. He tried his best to lift it, but it was too heavy. So he tried to bury that fear somewhere else where he couldn’t feel it. He was good at burying feelings he couldn’t lift but found no success in this case. It was there to stay.

The evening sun was beginning to set when hunger spoke through Rek’s belly with a grumble. “My body is used to eating by now,” he said shamefully with a hand on his stomach. “It’s not the hunger I’m concerned about but the lack of Bastial Energy that goes along with it.”

They’d reached the northern side of the Academy’s walls. Food hadn’t crossed Cleve’s mind as of late, but keeping his psychic fueled was crucial. “They expected me back this evening at the latest. Even without a break we won’t be there before dusk, so we may as well rest and eat under the cover of these high walls.”

“No, let’s go on.” Rek’s shoulders sank with a sigh. “If Welson sends his guards and they find us before we enter the city, I won’t have enough energy to keep them charmed all the way to the castle. The closer we can get before being detected, the better our chances. I can chew and walk.” He extended his hand.

Cleve handed him their sack of dried meats.

As they came around the Academy’s walls, there was a clear view of the castle sitting in the center of Kyrro City. Suddenly Cleve’s fear became twice as heavy. “I may as well eat something now also.”
While I still can
. “Let’s hope we don’t cramp when it matters most.”

When they were halfway to Kyrro City, the sky was red with the last light of the low sun. There were no trees along the path, no hills, nothing to hide behind. With little reason to travel between the Academy and the capital, there were no more than two people they’d already passed a mile back. So when a clump of five or six marched toward them with the light of the city on their backs, Cleve thought they might be guards. He and Rek stared ahead in complete silence, squinting for a better look.

As the distance from the King’s men closed, what had appeared to be legs morphed into swords hanging from their belts.
Definitely guards,
Cleve said to himself, suddenly feeling naked without his sword or quarterstaff.

Chapter 36: Sweep

CLEVE

“I’ll handle this,” Rek said with pride. “A simple misdirection to the Academy should suffice.”