The Seer Rowan McAllister (top inspirational books .TXT) 📖

“Have you had a Dream since we left the city?”

“Other than what you two told me about, I don’t think so.”

Daks waved a hand. “I don’t think that was a Dream either. I think that was the beginnings of another Vision—though I can’t explain how it happened while you were drugged or why it cut off so abruptly. That was a new one for me, I’ll admit. But I didn’t sense anything while you were asleep by the Matna, so I think it’s safe to risk it now. You can’t go on without sleep.”

“And you can sense things they can’t?”

It irritated him a great deal that he knew so little about magic. His entire family line, going back generations, prided themselves on the acquisition and dissemination of knowledge, and yet he was completely ignorant of something so huge.

“I can,” Daks replied simply, annoyingly.

“But that brother in Rassat could sense what you did.”

“He was a Sensitive, like me, not a pain priest. I don’t think his gift is as strong as mine either. It took him longer to find you, and he probably lived in the same city as you for years.”

Ravi could almost see Daks’s chest expanding with each word, and he smothered a smile against the lip of his mug.

“The members of the Thirty-Six are different,” Daks continued without prompting. “I’ve never heard of a pain priest being a Finder as well. They are two different gifts. The priests would most likely be able to sense you if you were actively using your gift within close proximity of them. And possibly out this far, if you have another prophecy surge like the night we met—though they’d probably have no idea what it was. But anything other than that, they shouldn’t be able to sense from this distance. If anything that big happens, I’ll definitely feel it, and we’ll have time to get away before they find us out here. Vasin can say he scared some vagrants out of his barn. Now stop worrying and go to sleep. Get what rest you can, while you can, or we’ll have to strap you to the saddle with the rest of the baggage when we head out again.”

Daks smirked as he said it and shot him a wry sideways glance. Ravi scowled, even if the man couldn’t see it. “I can keep up with the rest of you.”

“Good. Now get some sleep.”

Daks rolled away from him and snuffed the oil lamp. Ravi’s tea had cooled enough for him to drain the mug without burning his tongue. He upended it, savoring the last few honeyed drops before setting it aside and burrowing deeper beneath his blankets. Their breathing, the wind, and soft night noises beyond the barn were the only sounds to break the silence until Ravi summoned the courage to ask what he’d been too afraid to in the bright light of day.

“They’ll know how to help me at the Scholomagi, right?” he whispered into the darkness, half hoping Daks was already asleep.

“Yes,” Daks replied nearly as quietly. After a few moments, Ravi heard the rustle of straw as Daks shifted onto his back and sighed. “They’ll help. I can’t guarantee they’ll be able to give you complete control. Sight is a tricky gift to have, because it’s almost as receptive in nature as being a Sensitive, only I think you’re channeling instead of absorbing. I can’t really explain it better than that. I’m no teacher or scholar.”

Ravi took a few moments to digest that. It wasn’t as if he’d been expecting a miracle to happen once he reached Samebar, but he wished Daks had sounded more definite.

“You’ll have a place at the Scholomagi, though,” Daks continued, as if sensing his unease. “The Seers have their own tower and are quite well taken care of. You won’t have to be afraid of having Visions anymore. They won’t hurt you in Samebar for being gifted, for being different. No one will take you away or force you to do anything you don’t want. You don’t even have to stay in Scholoveld, if you don’t want to. Your gift isn’t the kind that could prove dangerous without training, so there are no laws to make you.”

“But there are for others?” There were so many things he didn’t know.

“For some, but only if the gift is deemed dangerous. Then you’re required to go for training to protect the innocent and ungifted from harm.”

“Okay,” Ravi murmured as a hundred more questions bloomed in his mind.

“It will be different,” Daks said around a yawn. “There are laws that govern the gifted, and some of them don’t always seem fair. But you have my word you will be far safer than you are here. Shura and I have helped dozens of gifted to better lives in Samebar. You’ll see.”

“Why?”

The question escaped him before he could grab it back, and he winced. The last thing he wanted was to have Daks questioning why he was risking so much for a perfect stranger.

Idiot.

“Why what?” Daks asked.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Go to sleep. You can ask me whatever you want in the morning.”

RAVI STRUGGLED to free himself from the last vestiges of his Dream as he lay panting in his woolen cocoon. Opening his eyes, he clung to the weak indigo of predawn outside the barn like a lifeline, dragging himself free of the sea of muddy gray-brown still trying to drag him into darkness. The Dream had been the same as his Vision on the road, a terrifying gray wall, but different. This time a stranger had been with him in the miasma, calling out something in Sambaran, as lost and afraid as he was.

He shook his head and sat up, dislodging the blankets from his shoulders, welcoming the shock of cold air on his skin to bring him fully awake. Even as the last clinging cobwebs of the Dream fell away, his heart began to pound for a different reason—fear of discovery.

Had that been a Vision? Could