See How She Runs (The Chronicles of Izzy #1)(31)

I was even more surprised to find my anger just a smoldering coal. It appeared that my emotions were going to be taking a hiatus for the rest of the day. In their place I was left with a certain sense of detachment. So instead of getting emotional or responding to his apology, I decided to strive for information.

“Can I do that with everyone? Sift through their memories?" I asked, curious as to whether or not he had felt me on the edges of his memories fanning through them.

“Yes, you can. Your mother could as well. It is a rare talent with your kind. It is much easier for you to do it with someone you have known for a while. But I would prefer you not sift through my memories if it is all the same to you," he said, with a knowing look.

“Well, how am I supposed to figure out how to do it without someone to test it on, Kennan?" I was really hoping to get some sort of practice in today.

“I will make you a deal. You only sift through my memories from before you were born." He grabbed my face and turned it toward his own before continuing. “I will know if you go tromping where I don’t give you permission, and you won’t like what happens if you do.”

I felt myself heat up internally. My body responded to the threat in his voice as well as the fire burning in his eyes. He might have been able to tamp down his feelings and remain distant earlier, but now his emotions were coming off of him in strong waves. I shook myself free of him and stuck my right hand out.

He looked at it and then engulfed my small hand within his own. “I promise not to tromp where I am not welcome. Maybe you could put up some mental ‘NO TRESPASSING’ signs or something," I said, hoping to steer us into less emotional waters.

He nodded and then looked at me sternly as if to scold me. “I am trusting you, Izzy. There are things in there that I don’t want to be seen. Not by you. So you stick to the stuff from long ago. It will be easy to sift through and find it. The memories that seem clearest are my most recent memories from what I understand. So look for the ones that seem fuzzy around the edges or just out of reach. Those should be safe. But the minute I feel you brush up against memories that aren’t yours we are done. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir," I said, before mock saluting him. “So, how does this work? Do I just sort of woowoo you somehow, or should I touch you? Is there a chant or something?”

“From what your mom said, physical contact makes the connection easier. You can do it without touching, but she always said the images were much clearer when she was touching someone," he said, before leaning back against the wall as if to brace for what was to come.

“Alrighty then. Let’s get to this then," I said as I reached out and grabbed his hand once more.

I let the warmth of his hand surround my own and tried to find his memories but there was nothing there. Nothing but my hand perfectly nestled in his. I opened my eyes and breathed out heavily.

“Nothing is happening. Are you sure there is not some sort of chant? Am I supposed to sacrifice a chicken or something?”

“It isn’t a ritual. Izzy. Just try and clear your head, which I know is asking a lot from you. But just let your mind wander. Don’t try and force it," he said with a trace of his old humor.

So I did what he asked me. I grabbed his hand in mine once again and waited. I tried not to think of anything. Which, by the way, is incredibly hard, because the more I tried not to think of anything, the more stuff I thought about. Eventually, I got to a place where everything seemed foggy. I breathed slowly like all of my yoga classes, okay videos, had taught me, and tried to center myself. I focused on Kennan and noticed a constant stream of images pulsing around him. Millions of memories layered one on top of the other shifted around Kennan. His entire history lay at my mental fingertips.

I spent the next few hours sifting through his past memories. I watched battles play out. I watched as he played tricks on my father. I watched him train. I watched the world shifted and changed around him as he stayed the same. He was an immovable object in a changeable world. I witnessed the sadness and loneliness that he felt throughout his long life. I saw him long to finally meet the one he was meant to protect just so his days could end. Then I saw him meet my mother for the first time. I saw how her joy calmed his spirit, and how he had finally found a home with my father and mother. Just before he pulled his hand away from my own I saw myself as a baby.

The present rushed in around me causing me to become disoriented. I tried to steady myself, but the roll of nausea became too much to bear. I ran to the restroom before tossing up my breakfast. I sat on the floor for a minute, trying to get my stomach to stop trying to exit my body. Once I finally calmed myself, I got up and rinsed my mouth and brushed my teeth before heading back to my room.

“Will it be like that every time?" I asked Kennan. If I got sick every time I tried to sift through someone’s memories, that would be one heck of a tell.

“No, I should have told you to sever the contact. I cut it off and that is what made you sick. I felt you trying to look through memories that aren’t yours to see. So we are done for now. You should probably try and get some sleep for a while." And with that he left me alone.

I knew that I had been wading into memories he asked me not to see, but him not wanting me to see them made me want to know what they were. I lay down on my bed with his memories to keep my own company. I marveled at all of the things he had seen and I had just hit the highlights. There was so much more. The more I thought about it though, the worse I felt. I suddenly felt like I had seen things he probably had not wanted me to see. After all, if a person wants you to know something, they would tell you. In this case, I had just pried into his head and pulled out memories that were not mine to take.