Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(8)

A great, chatty resource. Who would probably want to talk all day.

Nothing was ever easy.

“I was just passing through,” Shanti answered vaguely. “I did not realize the forest was charred. Where—“

“Oh, yes!” the woman cut in, moving back across the small room to fold her clothes. “That’s because of that filthy Mugdock! They’re jealous of our lands and our ability to trade. They’re a poor nation. Of course, that’s their fault, the lazy swine! A few years ago they got the bright idea to burn as much of our land as possible. I don’t know why—“

“Molly?” A male’s voice spoke from beyond the room.

Shanti’s attention snapped toward the door, pushing her mental net out as far as possible. Pricks of pain stabbing behind her eyes, she could barely feel a man’s presence just beyond the wood. A sharp mind, if she had to guess, probably honest. Curious and wary at the same time.

Now why would that be…

“Oh!” The matronly nursemaid bustled into the other room, closing the door with a soft click. Through the thin wood paneling Shanti heard the woman continue with, “Hello! Come to look after your charge?”

“Uhmm, n—yes. The Captain wanted me to check in and see how she was? But I don’t need to see her, you can—“

“Nonsense!”

Molly opened the door a second later, dragging in a boy who couldn’t be older than sixteen. Steering him with hands on his thin shoulders, she deposited him in the center of the room, facing Shanti.

Immediately, as if a bright spotlight had focused on him, his head dropped toward the floor and his shoulders hunched. His thick mop of curly brown hair fell over his eyes. Obviously shy, yes, but Shanti could sense fear, also. It rolled off him in waves, drenching the room in anxiety and uncertainty.

“This is Marc,” Molly announced proudly, patting the youth on the back. “He was the one who got you started toward health! He’s training to be a doctor!”

Shanti didn’t know what the term doctor meant, but judging by the woman’s sparkling eyes, and the context, it meant healer. And was exciting in some way.

Marc’s bronzed face turned scarlet as he stared at the floor.

“Well, I’ll just let him ask his questions, then,” Molly continued, giving Marc an encouraging pat on the arm. “No doubt the Captain will want a full report. Just don’t tire her out, mind—but then you know that!” The door clicked shut once more, cutting off Molly’s merry laughter.

An uncomfortable hush rolled through the room. Marc stood, motionless, looking to solve mysteries in the floorboards. How a guy could remain so still, while under scrutiny, was a testimony to steady hands. A good thing in a healer. Not great as the initiator of conversation.

As if he heard the thought, he slowly brought his hands up to his stomach level, and began picking his nail. It seemed like, to him, movement was noise. Interesting.

After another stagnant pause, the youth cleared his throat. His gaze drifted up until he glanced at her from under his eyelashes. Here came the burst of action—his mind was ablaze with it.

“Are you feeling better?” he managed.

Shanti barely suppressed her laugh. She wasn’t sure he had it in him. “I am, yes. Thank you for your concern.”

The boy nodded, his dark eyes darting around the room. “You nearly starved.”

“Yes, I am aware. What part did you play in my recovery?”

He shrugged, dropping his head again. “I just tried to get you to drink water is all. And some broth…”

“Were you the one who found me?”

“Um—I’m not supposed to…I mean, I just came to check… your eyes, uh… I just…” His words fizzled out as he scrubbed at his nail nervously.

She’d never met anyone so shy in all her life. It was fascinating. His sharp intellect dulled by the fear of expectation. The fear of being noticed. His mind was blazing one second, calculating and deducing, and the next he was pulling all his feelers in, tucking them away like a turtle.

She’d love to work with him. To coax that sharp intellect out and see what he could do with it. But she didn’t have the time. That wasn’t her job anymore.

Pushing past the pain, Shanti envisioned wrapping him in a warm blanket of security and seclusion. Her power played and tinkered with his mind, turning her illusion into his reality. He wouldn’t see a blanket, but he’d feel the comfort of being wrapped in one. The mind was a strong persuader.

As his face relaxed, she said, “I just hoped to know the situation surrounding my…rescue, and what will now become of me.” She brushed his mind with comfort, like his mother’s arms wrapping him in her bosom. “You do not have to fear, I will not betray your trust.”

The boy glanced up, dark eyes in a plain face. “Gracas found you by a tree. Commander Sanders and I cleaned you off.” He swished his h*ps to the side, boy code for extreme embarrassment of a sexual nature. His face blushed a deep crimson to match the movement.

Inexperienced and insecure. No guilt. No remorse.

Shanti let a shallow breath roll passed her lips. He’d probably just seen her body, and nothing worse. It bespoke this culture’s modesty, which was a good thing. For her, anyway. She didn’t care about nudity—she was glad he did. It was a small step in the direction of safety.