Chương 47: Expansion

The next few days are a blur as I do exactly that: attempt to channel my emotions into power. Not being one to process emotions much—as I find them a waste of energy—this is more difficult than I expected. Rage and anger are powerful, and I've always used them to simply further my own agenda. But the emotions the elements feed me aren't like my own. They're driven by other memories, age-old grudges, some images I can't even decipher.

And yet it simmers inside them, this seething amalgamation of experience that has caused everything to be bitter. So much that it puckers my veins, my brain, and my memories with the sourness contained inside. I'm unsure how no one noticed just how vocal the elements are. Then again, anyone who did was gleefully, even if accidentally, ripped apart by the joyous element who found out there was a conduit. At least that's what I get from some of the history I'm shown. Children. Adults.

On occasion, even animals, it seems. Anything or anyone that had an affinity with the elements… if they reached out, they were destroyed from the inside out. Sucked dry of lifeforce and power. Being a conduit is apparently dangerous. Just like I found out the first time I tapped into it. Only now that this is confirmed, I need to figure out how to stop that happening again. Every time I reach for it, I wonder if I can control the flow. It's always there, offering more power, more strength.

The one upside in this whole thing is that our Enclave knows about the Blood Sect. Our memories of the original attack months ago that made us move Enclaves? It's all there again. I'd say we partially have Dendrak to thank for that. But I know Aarron had interrogated someone from that initial attack. And I still don't know what became of them. What I do know is that the information Dendrak gave up has Aarron in a mood. It's best to avoid the Prefect right now. Another day or two should do it.

All of this is food for thought as I mull it over while eating my beef stew. It's like the kitchen knows I've had a hankering for it since our road trips led me to the taverns. It's delicious—like our cook outdid herself. Subtle flavors, potatoes that are soaked and yet just the right amount of soft. Freshly baked bread on the side makes it even better.

"Mind if I join you?" Farin asks, but it's not really a question because she's already put her own bowl of stew down on my table. I just raise an eyebrow and go on savoring my food. It's not surprising that she takes that as acceptance of her being there. After all, I didn't say no. She takes a few moments to situate herself, pulling a serviette up to tuck under her chin to catch any dribbles, I'm guessing. And then she tucks right in.

From her expression—with the way her brow furrows and her lips curl—Farin is not a fan of stew. I wonder what she did to get relegated to Nightshade or Bryony as her only choices.

"What do you want?" I ask, trying not to sound snappy or demanding, but I've truly reached a stage in my life where I don't have time to indulge others. Okay, time might not be the right word. It's more of a matter of simply not wanting to indulge others. Farin gasps softly, as if offended by my question.

"I just wanted to sit with you for a bit. We've never really talked, Taria." Fine, if that's how she wants to play it. I take my time, spooning my last few mouthfuls and chewing and swallowing slowly. Finally, I take my last bite of bread, wipe my mouth, and look up at Farin. Her gaze is locked onto me, and there's chagrin behind her irritation as well. She's not hiding it well. I thought I was the only one who wore my every emotion on my face. Xan was wrong.

"Farin," I begin, trying to figure out exactly how I'm going to say what I want to say. Then I decide to just go for it.

"You've never liked me. Not from the first day you met me. Don't pretend to start now. Especially when I know you're only doing this because your uncle asked you to." It's almost with a joyful glee that I watch the color drain from her face. Thoughts flitter through her eyes so fast, it's fun to follow them. How did I know about her uncle? Do I truly know, or am I just bluffing? But she settles on taking a deep breath and offering half a smile.

"Silly. I don't do everything my uncle asks."

"Obviously, or you would have befriended me way before you knew I was powerful." Too blunt? Perhaps, but it's also true. She flinches, and I carry on.

"Tell me what you're hoping to get out of this, and I'll do us both a favor and see if it's something I can help you with or not." I cross my arms and wait. There's murmuring all around in the dining hall, so us sitting and having a conversation doesn't seem out of place. Farin bites her lip, a crease forming in the middle of her forehead as she contemplates my offer.

"How did you figure out what you could do?"

"Really? He already knows that I almost killed myself in self-defense by burying almost a dozen people alive. Next question." I see that Farin wasn't aware of how I figured it out. She pales just a fraction before stuttering out her next question.

"How does it work? Do you command the earth? Can you help others figure out if they can too?" You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Ah, so that last one is probably her own question filtered in there. Aarron would be livid if he knew this was how she'd solved her assignment. Still. How she does whatever he's directed her to isn't my problem.

"I've always been able to hear the plants talking to me. It's just an extension of that." I smile, knowing how vague an answer that'll be for her. Lennick on the other hand, would have a field day with it.

"I don't command the earth so much as ask it to assist me in exchange for my assisting it." While not completely accurate, that is the general gist of how the whole thing works.

"And really, if you don't already hear whispers or sensations in your mind, you're probably an unlikely candidate." Farin scowls briefly, but the expression disappears fast.

"Thanks. Can I ask—how did you know about me?" I grin, and I make sure it's about as sinister as I can manage.

"That's the beauty of it. There's very little that goes on around here now that I can't hear or find out about." There, I'll let her stew on that. Take that back to Uncle Aarron and let him stew on that.

"Is that all?" I'm going to have another bowl of stew, while they're stewing. Sometimes I amuse myself. Besides, I deserve it. I've been working my abilities pretty hard the last few days. Pushing myself comes at a cost—I'm always hungry. Farin smiles softly and lets out a short sigh.

"Do you think if we'd gotten off on the right foot, we'd be friends?" I shake my head as I stand.

"Don't worry about that. I can't conceive of a world where we would have been friends. It's not your fault and it's not mine. We're too different in thinking methodologies."

"Oh," she says and nibbles at her bread.

"You're probably right. Thanks for talking to me." With a nod, I turn and take my leave. I have to be in the scrying lab, and I have to talk to Lennick. Farin held me up for longer than I'd have liked. Thing is, she's seen what I can do now. Or at least a portion of it. Even though it wasn't overt, there's a level of respect about the way she just spoke to me. One that wasn't there before. Hell, she wasn't even being sly and manipulative like she usually is. I can only attribute that to her perception of me.

Or perhaps it's because I straight up asked her. Either way, it worries me more than I like to admit, and I can't get it out of my head the whole way to the lab.

"I'd offer you a doubloon for your thoughts, but I'm not that rich and they're probably not that entertaining," Lennick quips as soon as I darken the lab's doorstep.

"Ha-ha," I say, unwilling to waste energy on more involved sarcasm right now.

"Good thing you're here. Can you go check on the scrying room for me? With Ellir gone, I've lost my best babysitter." Most people probably wouldn't notice the note of sadness in Lennick's voice. Death and losing people are things most Nightshade members don't seem to react to. Given what we do, that should be no surprise. But Ellir was a nice guy. I still resent Dendrak for his death. After all, I'd managed to refrain from killing Ellir at one stage. And now we'd lost one of our best scrying supervisors.

"Sure thing. I'll look in on them." Hopefully Lennick doesn't need me to keep a permanent eye on the kids manning the stations. Han and Jan are in there, talking more amongst themselves than they're paying attention to what they're supposed to be doing. I clear my throat and Jan looks up, his red hair bouncing in his eyes.

"Sorry!" But the sparkling expression on his face lets me know he's not the least bit contrite.

"Guys. We're not on a summer camp. And you're not playing with your siblings. Take this seriously. It's not the Oak Order." I remember tales my father told me about the fun he had as an apprentice. Nightshade is nothing like that. We deal in death every day. We should be taking the classes seriously. The two of them have the good grace to shut up and look slightly sheepish.

"Sorry." Han speaks up this time and focuses on his bowl again, rubbing his temples with his fingers as he does so.

"Leave the fun for the dining hall, or sparring matches. The messages you catch in here are life and death for a lot of people." I walk around the room, the names of the other Apprentices and Novices on the tip of my tongue, but I've only met most of them once or twice. Jan and Han don't glance back up at me, and I allow myself a small smile.

"I'll be checking up regularly while I work in the lab. Don't think I can't hear you." They look decidedly defeated by the fact that it's not just a one-time checkup. Got to keep them on their toes. Lennick watches me as I walk back in and take a seat at my workstation.

"You've got a way with them."

"No, I don't. They're all just scared of me now. Fear is a marvelous motivator." And from Lennick's expression, I'd say I hit that nail on the head.

"True. Rumors that you can suck them all into a stone tomb in the wall have probably helped your reputation." He barely even raises an eyebrow at that. It makes sense that rumors have spread. After all, even assassins gossip, and Farin is one of the worst of them. Still… I'm not about to go sucking people into stone or earthen tombs without an actual reason or anything. Could come in handy for those contracts that require the target to disappear without a trace, though.

Much easier than cutting up limbs and dissolving someone in acid. Lennick chuckles from behind his experiment, like he can read my mind.

"Don't go giving it too much thought. You're just the newest novelty out there. The newest boogieman."

"Not my only goal in life."

"Really? I thought your motivations were fairly nefarious as it stands." I shrug.

"Perhaps, but I'm not planning on becoming an actual serial killer. I prefer getting paid for it, unless it's self-defense. I do have my standards." I realize that's true. I don't want to kill just to kill, and I never have. Money is a great motivator, as is information. There is a line I'd prefer not to cross.

"Thanks, by the way," Lennick says softly.

"I don't think I've thanked you yet. But you helped bring Lareny back to me, and I owe you more than you could imagine."

"Nope. I know exactly what you owe me." I flash him a grin.

"Lareny is worth a lot to all of us. Or at least to me as well."

"True." He's smiling now, and it's a gentle expression. It's amazing how two assassins find each other. They really do dote on one another.

"I think it'd be nice if you two got to retire together." Lennick glances over at me.

"We can't all be Meryl and Jacob."

"No, but you can aspire not to die young."

"True." He lets out a short laugh.

"Seriously, though. Thanks." I wave the thanks away. It makes me uncomfortable.

"You didn't get in trouble, did you?" Lennick is silent for a moment and then answers, looking up at me with a twinkle.

"In trouble for what? I was so sure our Prefect has always been aware of everything in the Enclave." I suppress a laugh.

"Nice." Lennick looks around as if making sure no one is listening.

"Anyway, I have some interesting news for you." I double check with the air and earth elements to see if anyone is actively close to us. Nothing.

"We're clear. You can talk."

"That Geistersinne spider. The milk indeed has properties that makes people forget. When steamed or released in smoke or vapor format, it can cover a wide area. It's been difficult to track down, but there is a small village wedged between the Dorrinth, Larriath, and Korrien borders that sees an abundance of those spiders hatch." He shrugs.

"I don't know if that's where we're looking at, but it seems the most likely location to me." Mulling that over as I get to work distilling potent healing potions, I realize that sounds pretty likely. There are only so many places where the spider thrives naturally. I'm unsure if they could entice enough of them into an unfamiliar habitat or recreated one and have success.

"It seems it only works when the people it's being used on aren't constantly reminded of the Blood Sect's existence. You know, reminded of what they've been encouraged to forget," I muse out loud. Lennick offers me one of those evil little grins of his.

"Well, then, why don't we make sure people are reminded?" I grin back.

"I like how you think." This should be fun.