The Hawkling by Zahabi Rebecca

Author:Zahabi, Rebecca
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2023-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

As Isha no longer trained as part of a group, she was half-starved for mindlink – anything, even basic concentration exercises – until Passerine at last decided on a training session.

He brought her to one of the training rooms, where she hadn’t been since her last daily sessions with Lord Daegan. The room felt too big for two people, even though it was smaller than the one she was accustomed to. The walls were painted with the heraldry of the Nest.

‘Let’s do some work,’ said Passerine.

Isha didn’t want to question him, but she didn’t understand this change of heart. Since she’d left Lord Daegan, he had encouraged her to study by herself. He hadn’t wanted to tutor her when she had arrived at the Nest, either.

‘I am sorry you feel I’ve neglected you,’ said Passerine, casually answering her thoughts out loud. ‘I have been busy, and I am not a teacher by nature. But I will do my best.’

Annoyed, she kept a barrier of white noise and useless thoughts at the forefront of her mind.

‘Better,’ said Passerine. ‘But you need to do that all the time. I am sure you realise that Sir Leofric, or another high mage, might be tempted to spy on you. You cannot, under any circumstances, let slip our link with Hawk. From now on, we will meet here every morning.’

He strode to the centre of the room, motioning for Isha to stand before him. He was taller than her, but he didn’t use his size to belittle her like Lord Daegan used to. They stood well apart.

‘You are going to conceal information from me,’ he said. ‘For example: what have you eaten for breakfast this morning? Hide this memory away.’

Isha had no idea how to do so. She had eaten porridge for breakfast – she always did. It was a recurring action, one that she performed often enough for it to be embedded in other memories, of conversations, of banter with Kilian, of lonely times in the mess, sitting beside the giant’s chimney.

‘We will be talking as you hide,’ said Passerine. ‘Are you ready?’

She nodded, focusing on the limestone wall behind him. Passerine asked her a few questions, about her day so far, the situation with the Renegades. His mind circled hers, but she didn’t feel him trying to invade, like in mindbrawl. She was slow to answer his questions, her conversation stilted.

‘Try to be natural,’ said Passerine.

She did her best. About a minute later, he lifted one hand to interrupt her. ‘Found,’ he said. He mindlinked her memory of eating this morning, sharply defined, like a painting taken in the spur of the moment.

‘I didn’t feel you,’ she said, frustrated.

Passerine didn’t smile, but his features relaxed somewhat, as if he were amused by her reaction.

‘You were trained by Tatters,’ he said, ‘and Tatters is anything but subtle. He doesn’t need to be. He has Lal to protect him.’ She tried to hide her surprise at the fact that Passerine knew about Lal; of course he knew, she reasoned.

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