DAWN CAME EARLY the next morning as Ty woke to the sound of Breen dressing. Not feeling quite as energetic as the day before, he waited until his brother had left the room and shut the door before stretching and throwing back his covers. The light was just creeping in over the sill as he fought to open his eyes.

With most of his chores already completed, Ty finally had a day free to do whatever he wished, and after the traumatic experience of the previous evening, his mother had agreed to let him sleep in. He lay on his back and watched as the early morning rays pressed their way through the split

shutters of his bedroom window. The particles of dust sparkled as they slowly floated from one beam to the next.

After spending some time in earnest reflection, Ty concluded that he wanted to devote the entire day to himself, one day of complete and utter alone time, one day to just get away from it all and relax—

“Ty! Are you in there?” Adarra bellowed from the other side of the door. “We have a lot to talk about today!”

“Ugh.” Ty rolled over and pulled his covers back over his head.

 

 

After a leisurely breakfast of hot porridge and honey, dipped with a fresh loaf of white bread his mother had just pulled from the oven, and some cold dairy to wash it down, Ty headed for the woods. Unfortunately, he was accompanied by an overly energetic older sister who was acting like she had just been bequeathed the royal library in Aramoor. Her lust for the

knowledge she thought he possessed flickered in her eyes as she followed him across the small wooden bridge behind their cottage.

Adarra looked a lot like their mother must have when she was younger. Apart from the freckles on her cheeks, she was short like their mother, and had the same straight brunette hair that fell halfway down her back. Giving up on an attempt at blowing the strands from her face, Adarra finally tucked them behind her ears so she could see to scribble on the loose sheets of parchment she carried with her.

Taking a seat on an old log, Adarra laid her small stack of sheets on top of a thick hardbound book she used for stability when writing. “So, when was the first time you knew you had magic?”

Ty huffed. “Do you really need to keep a written record of my life? What happens if someone reads it and discovers what I can do?”

“Who would ever want to read my journals?” She had a naïve sort of point there, Ty thought. She had no friends for that very reason. She spent all her time doodling, and documenting, and contemplating deep thoughts. “Besides, once I finish writing it down, I’m going to burn it anyway.”

“What? Why would you go to the trouble of writing it down if you’re just going to burn it?”

“It’s the only way I can remember it.”

Ty cocked his head to the side. “That doesn’t make any sense.” “It does if you’re a memoriae.”

“A what?”

“A memoriae. Someone with the gift of memory.” Ty perked. “You have magic?”

“Of course, doofus, why do you think I’m constantly writing everything down?”

“Because you’re weird?”

Adarra rolled her eyes. She looked like she wanted to throw her quill at him but refrained. “No, it’s because my gift allows me to remember everything I see. So if you were to simply tell me how your magic works then I’m likely to forget it later, but if I write it down where I can see the words on the page then I’ll remember it forever.” She narrowed her eyes trying to read his face. “Understand?”

“I guess. Seems like a strange use of magic, though, just to be able to remember things.”

“Hardly,” she huffed. “Knowledge is power. Think about how long it takes a physicker to learn his craft. Imagine how much better it would be for someone who didn’t need to spend precious hours poring over old

medical journals in order to make a proper diagnosis while his patient was dying in the next room? If he had my gift, he would have the answer in

moments.”

Ty conceded with a bob of his head. “I guess you’re right. So, you can really remember everything you’ve ever written down in your journals?”

“I can remember anything I’ve ever read or seen.”

Ty rubbed his smooth chin between his thumb and first finger. “What book is that?” he asked, pointing down at her lap.

“Scagoria’s Guide to Herbalism and the Art of Natural Healing.” “How many pages does it have?”

“Three hundred and nineteen.” Her eyelids narrowed. “Why?” Ty leaned over and grabbed the book before she could stop him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” she asked as she tried to catch the loose parchments that had been on top.

“I want to see for myself.”

She offered a mischievous grin. “Don’t believe me?”

He opened the book to somewhere in the middle and scanned the left side. “What does it say on page one hundred and forty-eight?”

Adarra’s lips pursed as she glanced down at the mulch of early winter leaves lining the small path ahead. “Which paragraph?”

Ty looked up from the book. “Are you serious?”

“Which paragraph?” she asked again. “There are five. Should I recite them all?”

Ty glanced back down at the heavy book. She was right. There were five paragraphs. Could have been a lucky guess, though. He scanned the

opposite page to count the number of paragraphs there. Most pages probably had only five or six. That wouldn’t be too hard to figure out. “Alright, what does the second sentence of the third paragraph say?”

Again her lips stiffened. “It says ‘the elderberry has been traditionally used to treat pain, swelling, infections, and skin conditions’.”

Ty huffed. He closed the book and handed it back to her. “That’s pretty incredible.”

Adarra merely smiled as she placed the heavy novel back under her papers.

“To answer your question, I’m not really sure when I first knew I had

magic.” He gazed into the distance, trying to recall the earliest moments he had recognized his gift for what it was. “When I was younger, I didn’t

understand that what I was doing was magic.” His feet lighted across the fallen leaves on the small path as he paced back and forth, the dry ones crunching underneath.

Like the flickering dance of a red flit hummingbird, Adarra’s fingers

flew across the paper with rampant speed as she attempted to capture every detail he had to offer.

“Honestly,” he continued, “I can’t remember a time when I haven’t been able to communicate with the life around me. I guess I always thought that everyone else could as well.” He stopped to watch a couple of tree rats scurry through the branches over their heads, playing a hazardous game of tag. “It didn’t take long to figure out that I was the only one who could hear them.”

He kicked a couple of rocks down the path, watching them skip and

bounce and finally come to a stop. “I figured it was probably best to keep it to myself.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want everyone to think I was . . . weird or something.”

Adarra shook her head at the verbal poke in her direction. “Well, we already knew you were an odd one.” She snickered as she playfully kicked a small pile of leaves in his direction. “So when you talk about listening to nature . . . What’s that like? Can you actually understand the animals when they make noises? You said they don’t talk like we do, so how do you know what they’re saying?”

“They don’t exactly communicate with a spoken language. It’s like they talk with their emotions or instincts. I can hear when they are hungry, or tired, or scared. I know if one of them has a mate or a family.” He shrugged dismissively. “I can’t explain it other than that.”

“Interesting.” Adarra waved her hand for him to continue.

“Now with the trees and plants, it’s even more instinctive—” “Whoa, wait!” His sister’s head shot up in the middle of her scribing.

“You can talk to the trees? You can actually hear plants? Ty, that’s amazing.”

He grinned at the bout of praise.

“When they communicate, it’s mainly of their basic needs at the time.

Like sunshine, water, air, good soil, that sort of thing.” He watched his sister’s expressions go from anxious, to excited, to exhilarated, with each new tidbit of information she managed to copy down. “They tell me when

they are thirsty or content, when they are enjoying the nutrients of the sun or feel the rise of a storm.”

“With so many voices all talking at the same time, doesn’t it get . . . I don’t know, rather confusing, or loud?”

“At first it was overwhelming, but I’ve managed to find a way to drown them out, at least the ones I want to. Just don’t ask me how I do it.” He shrugged. “I’ve got no idea.” He stopped for a moment to try coming up with a logical metaphor. “It’s like when you hold something in your hand for a long period of time without moving it and pretty soon you can’t tell it’s there anymore. It’s the same way with the noise. I sort of grow numb to it.”

Adarra finished scribbling a couple more lines before dropping her arm and fixing Ty with a look of absolute determination. “Push me.”

“What?”

“You know, with your magic. Push me.”

Ty sighed. He had been wondering how long it would take before she got around to asking about that. As hesitant as he had been in letting out his secret, he found he was actually enjoying this chance to share his powers with someone else. He had not realized how much of a burden it had been keeping it all bottled inside.

After taking a moment to clear his mind, Ty tried focusing on a single image—the same small glen where he had taken the people during

Performance Night. Nothing happened. He tried again. This time he searched for that strange warming feeling he had experienced when he had pushed everyone the first time. Again nothing happened. Ty opened his eyes and shook his head. “It doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Why don’t you try playing your pipes? That’s what brought it on the first time.”

Ty had forgotten about his flute. Grabbing the wooden instrument from its place inside his pocket, he closed his eyes and let the music flow out of him. Immediately the warming sensation returned. It was like a small burning in the pit of his stomach that spread upwards and out, sending a wave of heat throughout his extremities. He conjured the image of the empty vale surrounded by white birch in his mind. The sound of Adarra’s gasp forced him to open his eyes. He had done it again. They were back

inside his hideaway spot.

“Ty, this is unbelievable.” She laid her parchment, quill, and ink aside and stood up. “It looks like we are really there, or here, or I’m not sure how you would describe it.” As soon as she stepped away from the log, it disappeared, along with her writing utensils. She quickly felt around for them, and when her hands touched them, they reappeared. “Hmm? That’s clever.”

Adarra let her parchments disappear once again. She turned back around to where Ty was still playing. “See if you can stop playing and keep the

image here.”

Ty wasn’t sure if that was possible, but he gave it a try. Instead of stopping altogether, though, he slowed the music, and then softened until it was barely audible. The mirage was still in place. Finally, he released his

lips and held his concentration on the image. It remained. “You did it.”

“I did.” He was beaming. “It worked.”

“Let’s try something else,” she said. Ty could see the wheels turning in her head. “Instead of a location, try picturing an inanimate object.”

Ty released his hold on the magic and the glen folded in on itself. “You mean like a spoon or something?”

Adarra crossed her arms. “I’m sure you can get more creative than a spoon.”

Ty thought about it for a moment, and after making his choice, he held out his hands and concentrated. The space above his palms shifted, much the same way it had when Sheeva had vanished. A moment later a large hardbound book appeared.

Adarra’s eyes widened as she grabbed it out of his hands. Glancing at the front cover, she quickly turned around to see if her volume of Scagoria’s

Guide to Herbalism was still resting in its place on the old log. It was. And yet she held a complete replica in her hands.

“Ty, how did you . . .” She opened it up and the pages were filled with text. “You realize what this means, don’t you?” Ty shrugged. “You’ve only seen one page of this book and yet you somehow replicated it down to Scagoria’s very own hand strokes. That means you must be using my

memories to create this.”

“Is that good or bad?” Ty wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing. His sister probably knew more about his magic than he did at this point. He was just captivated by the novelty of it all.

“I don’t know. But it’s fascinating. I’ll have to put some thought to it.

Try something else.”

Ty didn’t even have time to think about another object when a large bowl appeared in his hands. Steam wafted over the rim and a wooden spoon stuck from the top. He glanced inside. “I guess I was hungry.”

Adarra cocked her brow. “You’re going to have to be careful what you think about. Who knows what you might conjure.”

Ty hadn’t thought about that until now. “That’s a good point. This could get really—”

Adarra let out a yelp as she raised her hand to her mouth. Ty turned around and yelped as well when he saw Lyessa standing there beside him. She was dressed in a full evening gown, but unlike the long cut of her normal style, her lavishly colored dress was rather provocatively revealing. Ty’s face turned red. “What the . . .” Quickly he wiped his hand through the image and it vanished.

Adarra lowered her head, pretending to look at her parchment, but it did little to stop her giggling.

“I can explain.” Ty’s face was completely flushed. He could feel his

temperature rising. The burning sensation inside had grown considerably. “Ty! What is that?”

“What?” He spun around to see what she was referring to. “I don’t see anything.”

“No! Your hands! Look at your hands!”

Ty raised his hands and yelped again. They were on fire. But unlike any fire he’d ever seen, these flames were a vibrant blue. As fast as he could, he waved them in the air, trying to extinguish the image like he’d done with Lyessa, but this time the push didn’t leave.

He began to hop around as he flailed his arms in an attempt to get rid of the flames. “Help! It won’t quit!”

“Ty, let me see that!” Adarra hopped up from her seat and headed in his direction. “I don’t think that’s a push.”

“What are you talking about?” “Ty, I can feel the heat.”

“I don’t feel anything.” Ty glanced at his flame-covered hands. There was no warmth at all. His hands felt normal. They tingled just a little bit, but that was all. “Well, when I made you see the book, did you feel it?”

“You’re right. I did feel it.”

“Then how do we know if it’s real or not?”

Her brow furrowed in concentration. “Try using it to affect something here,” she suggested, glancing around the narrow dirt path, “something real.” She looked over her shoulder. “Like those leaves over there.”

Ty followed her gaze to a small pile of leaves in front of a large palmetto bush. He took a few steps toward the pile, but before he knew it, a ball of blue flame shot from his right hand, setting the leaves—and the large bush behind them—ablaze.

“How did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” He started to hold his hands out for Adarra to see, but she quickly ducked out of the way.

“Watch where you’re pointing that thing! Are you trying to kill me?”

Ty immediately lowered his hands, and the flames vanished. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

She scrambled back to her feet. “Oy!” she exclaimed, slapping her forehead. “You’re going to be the death of me.” She walked over to the bush, which continued to burn with a greenish-blue flame. “I think we can safely say this is no illusion.”

Ty felt the heat radiating from the fire. “What’s happening to me?”

Adarra turned her head, her expression sympathetic. “I don’t know, Ty. No one has ever had more than a single gift, at least not that I know of. I’d say you’re lucky, but under these circumstances, maybe not.” She shook her head. “I wish I had a better answer. Apart from the White Tower, that wizard who found you might be the only one who knows why this is happening.”

Despite her sincere effort to comfort him, Ty found her words less than reassuring. But she was right—he needed to find Nyalis and get some answers. Why was he so different from everyone else? He was certain it had something to do with why the White Tower was hunting him.