“Mortality has nothing to do with it, really.” Kyan polished off what was left of his third bowl of soup. “However, you are correct that you’re sixteen years old and Eva was ancient and ageless. You’ll need a lot of practice before you’ll be ready to wield this power without any serious difficulties.”
She frowned. “Difficulties? Like what?”
“Best to show rather than tell.” He nodded at the approaching barmaid. “Try this new gift on her. Capture her gaze. Will your deepest magic into her as if it’s a substance she will breathe in, and have her tell you a guarded truth.”
“That’s about as clear as mud.”
He spread his hands. “I can’t do it, myself. I’ve only seen it done. But I know it’s within you. You should be able to feel it rise up and flow through your every pore.”
“Well . . . I can light candles by just looking at them.”
“Like that simple magic, yes. But more. Deeper. Bigger. More epic.”
More epic? She rolled her eyes, equally exasperated and fascinated by everything he said. “Fine. I’ll try.”
The ability to pull the truth from anyone’s lips was a skill far too tempting to ignore. It would be so useful in countless ways.
The barmaid arrived at their table and slid another steaming bowl of soup in front of Kyan. “There you go, handsome. Can I bring you anything else?”
“Not for me. But my friend has a question for you.”
The barmaid looked to Lucia. “What is it?”
Lucia took a deep breath and locked eyes with the woman. It had become effortless to use the magic she’d grown accustomed to, but this had to be different.
Show me the way, Eva, she thought. Let me be like you.
While the amethyst ring she now wore on the middle finger of her right hand helped control the more beastly and uncontrollable parts of her elementia, she still felt that swirl of darkness down deep inside of her. An endless, bottomless ocean of magic, all contained within her. It was as if she could see that magic—a magic whose surface she’d only skimmed.
Awakening the Kindred had meant tapping into this swirling ocean. Lucia had dove into it so deeply she’d nearly drowned.
She needed to go there again, to that deep, dangerous place. This was not lighting a wick with a flame. This was not levitating a flower or healing a scratch or turning water to ice.
The deep, dark magic within her blended together and formed into the shape of a dagger. Lucia envisioned pressing this black dagger to the barmaid’s throat.
“Tell me your darkest secret—the one you’ve never told anyone else.” Lucia spoke the words, a whir of echoes all around her, and forced them into the woman’s mind.
“I . . . uh . . . what?” the barmaid sputtered.
Lucia inhaled deeply and pressed that invisible dagger closer to the woman’s throat. “Your darkest secret, speak it now. Don’t resist.”
A violent shudder shot through the barmaid, and blood began to trickle from her nose. “I . . . I killed my baby sister when I was five years old. I smothered her with a blanket.”
Stunned, Lucia fought to hold on to her concentration. “Why would you do that?”
“She . . . she was sickly. My mother spent all her time with her and none with me. I was ignored. So I got rid of her. I hated her and never regretted what I did.”
Lucia finally broke eye contact with the barmaid, disgusted by the confession. “Leave us.”
The woman absently wiped her bloody nose, then turned and quickly scurried away without another word.
“Well done.” Kyan nodded. “I knew you could do it.”
“The magic causes them pain,” Lucia observed. “Not me.”
“Only if they try to resist. Eva had such great control over the power that no one resisted, and no one was harmed. You’ll grow stronger in time.”
A little blood wasn’t anything to get squeamish about. This ability was worth the price that had to be paid, but Lucia decided right then that she’d use her truth powers sparingly. Some truths were not meant to be known.