power away and let his words simply be words. It all depends on his tone.” He made his way to Keefe’s cot. “I understand how it feels to fear your own voice,” he whispered when Keefe didn’t turn to face him. “But hiding behind silence is not the answer. You must learn control. Restraint. Master when and how to use this ability.”
“Are you volunteering to train him?” Alina asked.
Noland shook his head. “I doubt I will be of much use. As I said, he’s not a Vociferator.”
“Okay, so… what is he?” Sophie asked.
Everyone waited for Noland’s answer—even Keefe peeked over his shoulder.
So the room filled with a collective groan when Noland told them, “Honestly, I have no idea. This is something new to me.”
“A new ability?” Alina clarified.
“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Noland wondered. “Every ability begins somewhere.”
“Yes, but most begin naturally,” Alina argued. “And there was nothing natural about this.”
“There wasn’t,” Noland agreed, shifting his gaze to Sophie. His eyes had a slight purplish tint, like the tanzanites in his circlet, and they seemed to twinkle as he added, “But I’m staring at someone else with unnatural abilities. And she’s proven to be quite a valuable asset. Hopefully this boy will be the same.”
He placed his hand on Keefe’s wrist, and the warm, burnished tone of Noland’s skin made Keefe look extra pale.
“Look at me, Keefe,” he ordered, and after several long breaths Keefe slowly rolled toward him. “It’s time to stop fearing this change. You need to speak again. Trust me—this we have in common. You need to prove to yourself that you can do it—still be normal. Still be you.”
He’s right, Sophie transmitted when Keefe pressed his lips together. Nothing bad is going to happen.
Keefe’s eyes met hers, and she took that as permission to open her mind to his thoughts.
Nothing bad is going to happen, she promised again.
You don’t know that, he argued.
Yes, I do. What happened was a fluke. Just… don’t say “numb,” and you’ll be good. And maybe don’t hold my hand.
She flashed a smile he didn’t return. But that might’ve been because hers was a little forced.
It wasn’t your fault, he told her.
She wanted that to be true.
Otherwise… what? She’d never be able to touch his hand again without triggering some horrible reaction?
But this wasn’t about her.
It wasn’t your fault either, Keefe, she transmitted. It was just… an accident.
Maybe, he reluctantly agreed. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. Or something even worse.
It won’t be as bad as you’re thinking.
She was doing her best to ignore the images screaming around Keefe’s head, but it was hard to skip past the flashbacks of her blank, dazed face—or the images of things he was afraid would happen. Visions of everyone screaming and thrashing from some imagined terror he’d forced upon them. Or inconsolably sobbing.
Emotions are powerful, Keefe told her.
I know. But… even if something like that DID happen, it would only be temporary—just like the numbness was. You’d figure out how to undo it. And it’s not like you’re the only person to struggle after manifesting. Marella set fire to her bedroom. Linh flooded everything. Jensi said his brother got stuck half-phased in the floor. I thought I’d gone insane because of the voices in my head—and I inflicted on Sandor. Sometimes it takes time and practice to get the ability under control.
But what if I never get control?
You WILL. Everyone does.
Okay, but what if—
“Ugh, are you guys done with your mental conversation yet?” Fitz interrupted.
Ro snorted. “Boy, is that an ironic question coming from Captain Cognate. And I’m surprised you weren’t eavesdropping.”
Sophie was too.
Unless he had been and just didn’t want to admit it…
Not that it mattered.
She turned back to Keefe and switched to talking, so Keefe would have to use his voice too. “Just try one word. Something random, like… aardvark. Or mallowmelt. Or boobrie. How could anything bad happen from saying ‘boobrie’?”
Ro sighed when Keefe shook his head. “Looks like we need to try a different kind of motivation. So here’s the deal. I’m going to give you to the count of five to say something—and if you don’t, I’ll start talking. And I think we both know which of your secrets I’m going to share first.”
Keefe’s eyes narrowed.
“Is that glare supposed to scare me?” Ro asked him, followed by a big, fake yawn.
“It might be unwise to antagonize him,” Oralie warned.
“Nah, Hunkyhair’s harmless. That’s what he’s forgetting. Nothing’s going to change the fact that he’s