Falling Light (Game of Shadows #2)(18)

“Yes.”

She looked down at the piece of gravel she held. In her last life, she’d had a teacher who had taught her about Eastern dragons and astral projection.

As you know, there are four realms, her teacher had said. The inner realm, the physical realm, the psychic realm and the celestial or heavenly realm. Each realm is distinct, yet they are intricate in their entwinement.

Michael, Astra and the Deceiver were all adept in more than one realm. Michael had entered her mind when she had been locked in the past. Both Astra and the Deceiver had the ability to enter her dreams. She realized all over again how much she had to recover of her true self and her abilities.

She muttered, “That’s a whole lot more complicated than being ambidextrous.”

The grim line to his mouth eased. “When we have time, I’ll lend you my copy of Zen Keys so you can read more about it. To go back to your question, you’re seeing what you call the Van Gogh effect because you’re getting more attuned to the energies around you.”

She stared at the rock. “That’s also how I saw the golden stream you poured into me when you found me by my car. You were giving me energy.”

“Of course.” He smiled at the expression on her face. “You know all of this already. You just haven’t remembered it yet. Like you said, you need more time to process and connect all your dots.”

“I’m starting to realize how much work I have to do to catch up,” she said. She was struck by another thought. “In the recurring dream I’ve had, when all of us who were in the original group drank the poison, I could see colors all around us but they were really emotions. When I woke up, I wondered if we’d had the ability to see pheromones.”

“Maybe we did, or maybe we had an ability very like that. Are you feeling better?” She nodded. “We’ve had to push too hard. I knew eating good food would help. I have just two things to say.”

She looked up when he paused. She wasn’t the only one helped by the good food. He too looked better for having eaten, stronger and more vital. The marks of tension on his face had eased. “Yes?”

“First,” he said into her upturned face. “You are a talking, walking miracle. Don’t ever apologize to me again. I know how hard you’re working on all levels and I’m doing my best to help. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Second thing,” he said. He drew a light finger down her cheek. “You’re not in a dead-end alley. That was your fatigue and fear speaking. You may not know how to survive as a fugitive in the age of information, but I do. You have to keep reminding yourself I’ve been training for this my whole life. It’s what I do.”

She nodded and gave him a small smile. “Okay.”

He stroked her lower lip, his callused fingers gentle. “It is also a big mistake to discount Astra’s abilities. I know from your perspective it must seem like things have gotten really outlandish, but have faith.”

“I’ll try.” This was the first real chance they’d had to talk since the battle. She felt the tension ease from her neck and shoulders.

He checked his watch, and his mouth tightened. “First we had to stop at the house and now here. Well, it can’t be helped. We needed to eat and change vehicles and we couldn’t have done it any faster. Ready?”

“Not quite. Give me a few more minutes.”

She put a hand on his leg, closed her eyes and sank her awareness into his body. Refreshed and bolstered by the food, she found it much easier than she had the first few times.

She journeyed through the vital pathways of his circulatory system with an almost lazy pleasure, exploring the strong, elegant lattice of his spinal column, checking the healing process on his various wounds and nudging them closer to completion.

She spent the longest time on the wound in his thigh. Whatever had caused the puncture had narrowly missed his femoral artery, which was just another example of their incredible luck in that confrontation.

His wounds were physical and spiritual. That meant healing needed to be both physical and spiritual. If he could fight in both realms at once, maybe she could heal in both realms at once as well.

She had already physically healed herself, and she had given him energy. Now she just had to combine them.

Be healed, she told his wounded flesh.

Energy in the form of argent radiance poured from her hand. His thigh grew hot to the touch. She lingered over the blissful sensation and then, because he had suffered and because she could, she spilled that bright cascade over his psychic wounds, the long clawlike marks along with a faint, shadowy web of fracture lines that lingered from the Deceiver’s abuse.

His spirit and body resonated in instant, magnificent response, not with the strained keening she remembered from earlier, but with a healthy harmonious vibrancy.

Then the radiance she poured into him doubled back on her in a tremendous gush. She too began to resonate in a deep, melodious thrumming that was as old as their existence.

She had intended to be as sensible and sparing with him as she had been with healing herself. She had meant to focus her energy on his worst injuries and let the rest heal as they would, but she quickly lost control of the connection.

Helpless to stop, surprised by joy, her energy poured into him, and his came back into her, doubling and redoubling. As he healed, so did she, completely. All of the aches, pains and bruises she had collected over the last couple of days smoothed over, until together they reverberated throughout the realms with a pure belling power like Roland’s horn and a sweetness like children singing.