Page 216 of Seer Prophet

“Not really, no.” His voice grew quiet. Sad, but softer. “She knew something was wrong. You should go see her. Soon, I mean.”

I felt my mouth tighten as I thought about his words. When I felt him waiting for me to acknowledge them in some way, I nodded, exhaling.

“Okay.” I looked back at the tray. I realized I was pretty full already. I took another few blueberries out of the bowl, popping them in my mouth. Chewing, I glanced back at him.

“Do you want to come with me?” I asked. “Or should I go alone?”

“I want to come,” he said.

When I started to slide off the bed, moving carefully so I wouldn’t tip the tray, he caught hold of my arm, pulling me back down.

“I didn’t mean right now, Allie,” he said.

“I know.” I looked at him, blowing warmth at his light. “I know you didn’t. But I don’t want to fall back asleep. I should go now, while the coffee’s still working.” Smiling at him, I held up the mug. “I can bring some with me, right? I want to begin my brainwashing of Lily early, so she doesn’t inherit your anti-coffee genes.”

Looking at me, he grunted a little, then smiled.

Something about that smile made my chest relax.

Even so, that harder tension still coiled off his light, along with flickers of guilt, a more confused uncertainty. We hadn’t talked much the night before.

We hardly talked at all, despite how different I felt now.

Still turning that over in my head, I set my mug of coffee on the tray, then picked up the whole tray and placed it carefully on the floor.

I felt him watch me do it.

Once I had it down there, I turned to face him under the covers.

Leaning on him, I started massaging his chest, right in the middle, where mine had been hurting the night before. He closed his eyes as I continued to massage him.

I felt him sinking into the bed.

Sending light through my fingers, I tried to reassure him, to warm his light, feeling that fear in him more intensely as he opened.

Biting my lip as I looked at him, I said it anyway.

“Turn over,” I told him.

He tensed, opening his eyes.

“Please,” I said. “Just let me see.”

That fear on him worsened, but he did as I asked, sitting up.

Without my asking specifically that time, he reached up to his collar, pulling the shirt he wore over his head. Tossing it to the floor, he rolled over and lay on his stomach. I felt pain on him as he did it, but more than that, a denser grief. He lay there like he expected me to hurt him, although probably not with my hands, or any other part of my body.

I looked at the marks on his back.

They were visible even with the scars there.

I could tell they’d already faded, though, more than I would have thought from just a few days. I traced them with my fingers anyway, lightly at first. I fought to wrap my head around him, around what he’d asked of Ullysa.

I tried to connect it to what he’d done the night before.

He didn’t wince as I touched him. He didn’t move at all.

“What did she use?” I asked finally.

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