Page 11 of The Syphon King

“Yes.” He walked again, slower, grappling with the conundrum.

“Maybe you can only take what isn’t mine,” she mused.

Again, he paused on the walk bridge, looking at her, his gifts begging to test the theory. “May I...touch you to test something?”

She stared back at him then nodded. “What do you need to touch?”

The open offer tied up his tongue as his gift insisted he toucheverything.“Your hands.”

She held them both out before him and his circuits fired up with a hunger to receive.

“Are you...afraid?” she asked, seeing the shake in his hands now hovering over hers.

“Very,” he had no problem saying.

“I don’t think you have anything to fear,” she said quietly.

And yet, he couldn’t make his hands close the distance. “I think I do,” he whispered.

She raised her palms and pressed them into his. His breath rushed out and he closed his eyes, his gift devouring the light vibrations. He remembered them from long ago. Joy. He knew its color, but he wanted toseehers. Would it be the same? He carefully raised all his gates and looked. Yellow. Bouncing gently and lighter than air. Translucent and... mouthwatering as it entered and coaxed buried appetites.

“What are you feeling?” she whispered.

“Your joy,” he marveled, fearful at how hungry his powers were reacting to it. “I like it too much.”

He snatched his hands from hers when he felt every one of his receptors open wide, readying a hyper-siphon. The technique was only used when taking powers that were dense and dangerous. He wanted to devour it for other reasons. Ones he feared discerning.

“Am I too happy for you?” she wondered.

He turned away at hearing the light tease in her tone. “How do you feel?” he asked.

She let out a small giggle. “Happier than before?”

How was that possible? “Are you sure?”

“Maybe your gift works in reverse with me? Did you just give me some ofyourjoy?”

He walked again and she followed next to him, her gaze hot on his face. “There is no joy like this in me to give.”

She went quiet as they walked. “Then it must be how much I like your touch that tripled it,” she said quietly.

His legs ceased working and he stood there. “Your words have power with me and provoke things that aren’t safe. You can’t say such things.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, seeming pained at her many mistakes. He resisted the temptation to console her. “It’s beautiful out here,” she said, changing the subject. “This is likely why my joy is tripled. Oh!” She ran ahead to the benches with the look-out over the small pond. “Now it’s quadrupled!” she exclaimed, aiming her happy face at him.

He stopped ten feet from the phenomenal show that she was, riveted as he studied her with his ocular gates all tightly in place. The urge to remove them all and absorb every bit of her had his body boiling.

She sucked in her breath at the rumble of thunder, turning her smile on him. “What aboutreallightning? Does it also work like the Voltorium? Can you use that too?”

He forced his gaze away from temptation. “Yes,” he said, struggling to regain stability. “We should go back.”

“We should or must?” she lightly lamented.

“Must,” he realized. “I’m not well.” She came toward him, and he put out his hand. “No closer.” She froze many feet off and he added, “My gift must calibrate to people.” It was true but not to this extent.

“How can I help?” she wondered. “Maybe we should do exercises to help you?”

She was inviting him to touch and have everything he craved. “It’s a logical solution,” he said, not wanting her more discouraged than he’d made her.

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