Dowyr was getting real tired of horses. They didn’t always do what he wanted, the ride was terribly bumpy, and it was such a hassle to take care of them. The worst of it was that he wanted to think, and he found it unbelievably hard to concentrate on anything other than staying upright and in control. At least the beast wasn’t intentionally trying to throw him off. Yet.

  Relief finally came as Garec called the Company to a halt near a stream for a break. They were still out in the open, though they hadn’t found a trace of any Kircan soldiers. Donnan found a dry stone to sit on and began to meditate, or so it looked, but it was less than a minute before his eyes opened and he came up to Garec.

  “Nobody but us from here te the horizon far as I can tell,” he said. “The stream continues northward for maybe another three kilometers, and another directly east that looks like it goes on much further. It’s got a road alongside it, though I couldn’t make out a bridge anywhere. Maybe four meters across at the narrowest point.”

  “How far do you think we’ve gone?” Garec asked.

  “Anywhere from thirty-five te forty kilometers I’d guess.”

  Garec turned to Dowyr, signing, link.

  Uh oh, Dowyr thought, but channeled and made a telepathy link with Garec.

  She’s going to become suspicious if we go much further, Garec thought, and Dowyr had no need for him to say who she was. The image of Clarine came with the thought.

  So? We’re letting her go, no big deal. We’ve got Elethe.

  But think of the lives we’d save with access to a Sprinter. It could mean stopping the Tyrdens weeks sooner than we would otherwise, and they’d never see us coming. Without her, we’d need to go slow and plan every step of the way. That might mean months before we have a chance at them. We’d have to hide through the winter.

  Dowyr shifted uncomfortably. Garec had a point, but something didn’t feel right. I guess. But what can we do? It’s not like I can just make her want to stay.

  I have an idea. Go talk with her, read her mind and learn what her children look like.

  Dowyr narrowed his eyes. Talk with her? Learn what her kids looked like? What, was he supposed to make them suddenly appear and somehow maintain the illusion until—

  You want me to show her kids being held captive by Kircans, Dowyr thought matter-of-factly.

  Garec’s face remained passive. It’s the only thing that can convince her to stay and help us. Go; wasted seconds cost lives.

  Dowyr was so startled from the sheer weight and force of Garec’s thoughts that he cut the link and started for the officers in search of Clarine. His mind scrambled for words, but everything sounded so fake. Memories sprung up of times back at the orphanage when he listened to the other boys and girls talking with potential mothers and fathers while he sat in a corner, ignored. Why was he remembering that? He hated those days, not able to go outside or be alone, just being out with the rest of the orphans and adults, most of which couldn’t understand him. Eventually he understood he had gotten too old for anyone to want him, and those who approached him and understood signs were usually church clergy that took pity on him, and he didn’t need some stuck-up pastor lording it over him, so he usually met them with blasphemy of some sort. He had eventually become infamous in religious circles, and soon pastors or other clergy were coming in trying to convert him or demonstrate some sort of intellectual superiority like it was a competition. That lasted maybe two months. At the time, it was amusing that even though they believed Heaven never gave up on anyone, they gave up on him. Now it was just pathetic.

  All crap memories. What was he doing again?

  “Something wrong, alien?” a voice asked.

  Dowyr shook himself and saw one of Garec’s officers giving him a wave.

  Looking for Clarine, Dowyr signed.

  The officer pointed behind himself. “With her horse, just a bit further.”

  Thanks.

  Dowyr walked past the officer and spotted Clarine brushing down her horse. A thought occurred to him: if he spoke with her through channeling, she’d know he was a Boredom Emogician, which might make her suspicious of anything she saw from then on, perhaps including seeing her children captive.

  I’ll make it look like I’m not mute, Dowyr thought. Just in case.

  He began channeling at her, part sensory manipulation, part one-way telepathy link so he could sense the words and images going through her head, though he only focused on any images. Now to figure out what to say…

  “Hi, I haven’t met you yet,” he ‘said’, using what he thought sounded like childish curiosity. Really it sounded unbelievably stupid.

  Clarine turned to him and her eyes widened. She got down on one knee to be at eye-level. “Where did you come from? You can’t be one of the soldiers.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Oh, no, I’m just—” Dowyr felt a flood of panic as he realized he had no excuse for his being with Garec. What Emogic am I? he thought. Why would Garec need me? His mind ran through the list of Emogics, and halfway through the answer came. “Just one of the Boosters for our Empaths, helping out however I can.”

  “But you don’t look any older than thirteen, why in Heaven’s name would you be in with the army?”

  Dowyr tried to imitate Weynon’s innocent smile. “I’m fourteen. I told Heaven I want to help, and he said to do whatever I can that my bravery allows, and I’m very brave. I met the Captain back at the Academy; I liked him and asked if I could help him, so he took me and promised to keep me safe. My name’s Dowyr, what’s yours?”

  What complete idiocy. Clarine was eating it all up at least.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Dowyr. I’m Clarine, just a Sprinter here to help with our patrol mission. It certainly is very brave of you to be here, but what about your parents? Aren’t they worried sick about you?”

  Dowyr shook his head. At least with this he could be honest. “I’m an orphan, I never knew my parents. You wouldn’t happen to be looking to adopt, would you?”

  Clarine gave a pained smile. “I’m afraid my hands are already full with two little monsters to take care of.” And there they were, a boy and a girl floating through her mind, though they didn’t look like monsters. That was easier than expected. “Is the Captain the one taking care of you?”

  “Yes, but I can take care of myself too,” Dowyr ‘said’. “He’s busy enough being the leader. I’m just happy to help. I have to go do something for him now, but it’s nice to meet you, Clarine!”

  “It’s lovely to meet you as well, Dowyr. Heaven bless you.”

  Dowyr turned and ran off, heart pounding. He felt drained, unusually so considering how little he’d been channeling. That was the first time he’d ever lied in such a way. He’d lied plenty of times before, but they were always little ones, and he didn’t consider using his Emogic to prank others lying. What he made them see was real, in a matter of speaking. So if Clarine really did see her children held captive, that would be the reality, because she’d act as if that were the reality.

  Except he knew it wouldn’t be. But it had to be worth it if it meant stopping the war early. Anything had to be worth that; he remembered reading historical accounts of past wars, and going by them, there couldn’t be anything worse than letting a war go on. Even the wars in The Five Sentinels were brutal. The earlier it ended, the better. It couldn’t be any other way.

  Dowyr found Garec at the front of the company. I have them, he signed once he got the Captain’s attention.

  Garec nodded, then crashed to the ground as though a boulder had smashed into his side. Dowyr was knocked over in the same way, and he heard the soldiers and horses begin screaming. He barely caught a glimpse of the entire Company being knocked off their feet or horses. In the midst of the calamity, he heard Elethe’s strained voice shouting.

  “CLASS 3 PUFFER!”

  *

  It was a short-lived battle, but chaotic nonetheless, as battles tend to be when Emogics are involved. The first of which in retaliation came from Elethe Matching the Pride that had knocked them down and directing it back to its source, striking at the small force of Kircan soldiers and giving time for the Company to gather its bearings. Elethe wasn’t sure what else to do as she sensed people start channeling from all around. A Class 4 had to be careful or they risked collateral damage.

  Garec cried out, “Dowyr! Link!” as he scrambled to his feet, though it took Dowyr a moment to figure out which way was up as adrenaline rushed through his system and a hundred things seemed to be happening at once. He managed to establish the link, and in the time it took to do so, Garec spotted Clarine at the back of the Company and channeled Indifference at her, barely stopping an attempt to speed away and hide before the fighting escalated. She still panicked and ran as the soldiers realized where their attackers were coming from and began grabbing weapons.

  Oh, looks like my plan’s coming together, Hell said in Garec’s mind, though he hardly noticed it as he prepared more streams of Indifference to channel at enemy Kircans. Which direction were they? East?

  Dowyr crouched low to the ground as Boughton and his platoon of archers launched into the sky and began raining arrows down on the Kircans who were struggling to retreat after being knocked down by Elethe. It had only taken their Puffer realizing Elethe was near Class 4 to convince them to run. The smart ones knew the futility of running and dropped to the ground with their arms raised, but the raining arrows didn’t discriminate. Dowyr covered his ears, focusing only on maintaining his link with Garec.

  What do I do, what do I do? he asked, though the Captain was preoccupied with running up the hill to see what was happening.

  Weynon was channeling to calm both himself and the horses so they wouldn’t run off and trample anyone, while Sirona was darting to any soldiers who’d been seriously hurt when thrown to the ground. The rest of the Company was in full assault of the fleeing Kircans, sparing none. Arrows and violent Emogics took most of them out, with mounted spears finishing off the rest.

  Now’s the time, Garec finally sent through the link. Make Clarine stay with us.

  Dowyr’s heart pounded as he whipped his head around in search for Clarine. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be doing this, but those were less important thoughts. Lives were at stake, even if they were ones he’d never know. Running away from the battle, he cut his link to Garec and spotted Clarine, still fleeing for her life.

  He began channeling the deception. The screams of her children, a handful of enemy Kircans hauling them on horseback, and a Jumper teleporting them away. He made sure she was watching, made sure she understood. And it worked. The woman went berserk, though Garec still blocked her channeling. Once the fighting had come to a halt, quite abruptly as the Company had easily crushed what little resistance there was, Garec cut his channeling. Clarine zipped towards where she had seen her children vanish, a trail of snow bursting outward from her passing, and a cry of anguish that reached everyone’s ears. Their hearts raced at the sound, some from battle adrenaline readying them for more, but others as if they had been struck with guilt of a terrible crime, which Dowyr felt most of all. Garec went to where Clarine knelt. The eyes of the Company followed him for but a moment before turning to their post-battle responsibilities; retrieving arrows, cleaning weapons, checking on comrades. But Dowyr watched him, frozen in place as he waited for her sobbing to subside.

  “We’re going after them,” he said, his voice loud and clear. “We’ll get them back.”

  Had Elethe not been so consumed by the torrents of emotion coursing through everyone, she might have wondered what he was talking about. Weynon was occupied talking to the horses that had been left behind by the archer platoon. But Dowyr was listening, hearing over the beating of his own heart.

  Clarine breathed for a moment, then her voice rang like ice. “I’m coming with you.”

  A chill ran down Garec’s back. Forgive me, Heaven, he thought, because I don’t think this woman ever will.