Court of Nightfall (The Nightfall Chronicles #1)(40)

"Yes… and why is it that you are so determined to train with me? Last we spoke, the Orders were enough."

I hadn't told him anything and he hadn't pried, which I'd been grateful for. But he deserved to know the whole truth. "I was wrong about them," I confessed.

He leaned forward and set his own stick down. "Tell me." His eyes glowed in the firelight. "Tell me what they've done."

I thought I would censor myself, but when the words tumbled out of me, they came all at once and complete. I told him about Jax, about what happened to us and to him, and about my plans to rescue him.

He folded his hands together and stared into the fire a long moment before responding. "Have you considered, Scarlett, that Jax may not be on your side?"

"They're executing him," I said. "He's against the Orders as much as I am, maybe more."

"Let me tell you a story, Scarlett," he said, his voice taking on the timber of one accustomed to oral storytelling.

"Many years ago, while in Africa, I saw a tiger in a circus, caged, its right paw festering from a wound its masters had inflicted. The beast, once mighty, was left to die a slow death, for its masters intended to make as much money as possible. And I thought, 'This is not the way a creature should die, for we deserve a peaceful sleep, or at least, a quick end.' So one night, while the masters were all drunk after a night of performing, I forced open the cage door. But the tiger did not move. I spurred the beast on. 'Spend your last days in the jungle you once ruled,' I said. 'Spend your last days at home.' But the tiger did not move. I backed away, wondering if my presence was making the beast hesitant. But the tiger did not move. And I realized, the tiger was already home."

He paused, still holding his eyes on the flickering of light before him. "Too long had the beast lived in the cage of its masters. Too long had the beast played a part for another."

He looked up at me then, with kind eyes that had seen too much in a very long life. "Are you certain that Jax still longs for the jungle? Are you certain that Jax is not already home?"

"I will not let him die," I said. "And once we rescue him, he will join us."

"Very well. I shall help you," Zorin said, though I still saw doubt in his eyes. "Now, you need to get these rebels you spoke of to lend aid."

"I will," I assured him. I was still waiting to hear back. I'd sent another message before leaving to meet Zorin.

"And if you can't, you may have other assets," he said. "Besides flying, have you noticed any other abilities emerge since your transformation?"

"Yes," I admitted. "When I touch people, sometimes I can become them, as if I'm in their mind. Sometimes it lasts a while. Sometimes it's more brief, like I'm telling them to do something, only it feels more like I'm telling a part of myself to do something."

He whistled under his breath and gave me a more appraising look. "That is a rare ability."

"It doesn't always work. I can't always… flip into someone."

"Flip?"

"It's just what I call it. Once, I couldn't do it because I was weak and hungry. That's when I first fed. My ability worked after. But then later, I tried to flip into the same person, and I couldn't, even though I had the strength."

"Have you considered that you may only be able to… flip… into the same person once?"

I thought about it and considered everyone I'd used my power on. Ragathon was the only one I ever tried to control more than once. "That actually makes sense. I'll have to test that theory when I have time."

He nodded. "Every gift has limits. But, this is very powerful indeed. If you can turn—or flip—enough people to our side, we may not need the rebels."

I shook my head. "No. I've never controlled more than one person at once, and never for long."

He nodded in understanding. "With some training you might be able to expand your powers, but that will take more time than we have at the moment. Have you noticed any other abilities?"

"No."

"You may manifest them. You may not."

"Summoning memories is your ability?" I asked.

"Yes."

"But if we're all Nephilim, why can we do different things?"

"Do you want my theory, or that of the priests?"

"Yours." I decided to make another marshmallow while we talked, since we obviously weren't training again anytime soon.

"If Nephilim are all descended from Angels and humans, or if turned, have both Angel and human blood, then we are only part Angel. Like all half-breeds or mutts, we possess a propensity for variation. Some of us inherit more Angel traits than others."

I considered what he said. "So an Angel would have both of our abilities."

"More," he said, throwing another stick into the fire while I ate my marshmallow.

"Is that how you knew that what attacked me was an Angel? Because of its abilities?"

"There are two kinds of Nephilim," Zorin said. "Those who are born, and those who are turned. Those who are born have wings of gold and white and red, and though they gain power from blood, they do not require it to live. Those who are turned have wings of blue, purple, silver and black, and without life force, they wither away."