Page 27 of Unleashed

“What you said to us before, Nina,” Balir finally said, licking grease from his fingers, “about being ourselves despite what Kelsharn has done… Those words were familiar to me.”

Nina stilled, her gaze locked on Balir.

Vortok grunted. “To me, as well. I dreamed them last night.”

“As did I,” Balir said. “And though the dream has grown hazy since waking, both of you—” he dipped his head toward Vortok and then toward Nina “—were in it.”

“We were in the foothills.” Vortok raised the roasted thigh — held daintily by the bone between forefinger and thumb — to his mouth and tore into it. “Keeping watch on the rock. That place the clan usually camped before the snows came.”

Nina slowly chewed; the meat in her mouth, juicy and delicious a moment before, was suddenly like a clump of ash on her tongue. She had wanted to keep her abilities a secret, terrified of what they might think of her when they found out. What would they say, what would they do? Would Aduun use it to accuse her of having ties to Kelsharn? He’d had psychic abilities, too, and had often used them against those he deemed lesser than himself — which had been essentiallyeveryone.

But could she lie to her valos? Lies had a way of revealing themselves, in time, but it was more than that. These males were her tribe, her people. Their trust would not be earned through deceit.

“We…shared the same dream,” she said, dropping her gaze.

Balir leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, face lighting up with interest. “Therokahnof our clan spoke of such things, but I have never known them to be true. Is it a sign from Sonhadra?”

Nina shook her head. “No. It was because of me.”

Vortok noisily swallowed his mouthful and brushed the back of his hand across his mouth, unmindful of his tusks. “How is it because of you? Are you arokahn, Nina?”

The wordrokahnhad no translation into the human tongue that meant much of anything to Nina; Quinn had said arokahnwas like a shaman or a seer, but those words were just as meaningless. Orishok had explained it as a wise person who could commune with Sonhadra, a person who knew all the stories and traditions, and who could sometimes perform impossible acts — healing the mortally wounded, predicting the weather, or foretelling the fortune of a hunt.

“No, I’m not arokahn.” She inhaled deeply, straightened her back, and lifted her head to look at them. “The woman who birthed me was a prisoner on a prison ship. She and many others were experimented on. They all suffered, and many died, but some of those who survived were…changed. Like you and your people. Now there are humans far stronger than the natural limits of our kind, humans who can manipulate ice, or withstand terrible heat, or…or never die. The woman who gave birth to me…she could read minds.”

Aduun’s gaze gleamed with reflected firelight. “And because the female who birthed you was changed,” he said, “youare also different.”

Nina nodded. “Yes. Because I share her blood.”

“And you have looked into our minds?” Balir asked.

She shook her head. “No! I mean… Sometimes I catch glimpses of your thoughts or feelings, especially when they’re particularly strong, but I never purposely look into anyone’s mind. Most people are always projecting outward,” she set her portion of meat down on the cloth draped over her lap and raised her hands, sweeping them out from her temples to demonstrate, “and it takes a lot of concentration to block them out.”

Aduun’s quills rose, and his eyes narrowed. Nina had a feeling whatever respect or trust she might have gained with him had just grown even more tenuous until his lips fell into a deep, remorseful frown.

“Being around us must not be easy,” Vortok said. The bone in his hand was completely cleaned of meat. Frowning, he snapped it in half to get at the marrow inside. “I can barely handle my own thoughts since I was changed. I am sorry you have to deal with them, too.”

“Like I said, I try not to pry, but when there’s so much being projected, or when your anger takes control… It’s difficult.” She absently toyed with the frayed edges of the cloth in her lap. “Last night, while we were sleeping, there were no barriers. Our minds were vulnerable. Somehow, I found my way into one of your dreams and connected the three of us.” She looked at Balir and Vortok. “I saw you both as you once were.”

In the ensuing silence, a sense of loss drifted over Nina. It wasn’t overpowering, like some of their other emotions, but it still affected her deeply. She couldn’t tell which of them it came from; all three, most likely.

“For a little while,” Balir said, breaking the long quiet, “we got tobeas we were. And I saw you, Nina. With my own eyes…or the eyes of my mind.” He extended an arm and cupped her jaw, brushing his thumb lightly over the tip of her nose, her lips, and down to her chin. “Isawyour face, Nina, and I will remember it always.”

Tears stung Nina’s eyes. Though Quinn and Orishok had told her time and again that her abilities were a gift, though they’d encouraged her to use them and explore them over the years, she’d never quite shaken what had been instilled in her during her youngest years — she was an abomination, an intruder, and she should be ashamed of what she could do. This was new to her. Even if it had been inadvertently, she’d brought Balir and Vortok joy after so much suffering.

That made her feel good.

“You gave us a taste of something we haven’t had in a thousand years, however long that is.” Vortok’s features creased with deep thought. “Is that even a real number?”

Nina laughed. “Yes. It is.”

He grunted and shrugged as though brushing off the matter.

“We need to move,” Aduun said, voice tight.

Balir’s hand lingered on her face for a few more heartbeats before he lowered it.

Nina shifted her attention to Aduun as he cast aside the broken bones of his meal and rose to brush dirt over the fire with his foot. Once the flames were extinguished, he turned and walked to the other side of the camp. His mind was shielded again, projecting nothing, and that was worrisome; he was clearly agitated, but she couldn’t guesswhy. Now that he knew what she could do, it made sense that he’d make more of an effort to guard his thoughts from her.

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