Whisper (Whisper #1)(39)
I can see how the government might have a reason to fear people like Crew. And why they’d want to use people like him, too. He’d be the perfect foot soldier, wounding the enemy before a single gun was fired.
“There are plenty of other physical gifts, ones that don’t involve hurting people — both Cami and Sneak have them, along with a stack of other Speakers here — so I’m sure you’ll see some other examples over the coming days.”
I’m intrigued and want to know more right away, just as I’m curious about this Sneak person who has been mentioned twice already, but Ward clears his throat, his patience clearly waning.
With more courage than I would ever be able to summon, Enzo frowns at him and says, “Bro, you said yourself that we’re here because Falon wants us to demonstrate our abilities. It won’t take long, so mellow out and quit acting like such a dick about it.”
I suck in a breath, not sure if I want to laugh or cower.
Enzo chuckles at the nonverbal response Ward offers and turns his dark eyes back to me. “Next up we have your mentals,” he says, with a quirk of his lips at his own wording. “Take Landon, for instance. He’s what we call a ‘Protector,’ since he has an extremely rare protective ability that he uses to help control the power and intent behind the words Speakers use. It’s almost like he can see the words that are Spoken and can help shape them, guide them, make them safe. Basically, he protects anyone or anything that might be affected by Spoken words — and in some cases, he protects the Speakers from themselves, too.”
Remembering how Ward helped me reawaken the world and then make everyone on Market Street forget Abby’s near disaster, I have at least a vague understanding of what Enzo is saying. Curious, I throw a glance Ward’s way, wondering if he’ll give another demonstration, but his glowering expression is enough for me to swiftly turn back to Enzo.
“There are other mental abilities, like being able to create illusions or influence dreams or narrate stories so vividly that they come to life,” Enzo goes on. His features tighten as he adds, “There are also some very powerful and potentially very dangerous mental abilities, like being able to force people to do things against their will or suggest changes in thought patterns.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the very idea of such abilities.
“Then there are mentals like Keeda here, whose words can have a hypnotic effect.” Enzo turns to the paint-smeared girl, eyebrows raised. “Keed?”
Looking straight into my eyes, Keeda says, “You’re so very tired.”
A pulse of light shoots from her into me, and my sudden exhaustion is so crippling that I nearly collapse right onto the ground. A yawn overtakes me, then another, and my eyelids flutter shut before I hear a voice as if from far away saying, “Clear.” I see a flash again, and the next moment I’m back to normal.
Keeda is still staring at me, and I hastily break eye contact, not wanting to see what other ways she might try to use her power on me. What if she can somehow force me to Speak without my consent?
I’m certain my face is an open book right now, my unease clear for all to see. Indeed, the blue-splattered girl shakes her head as if she can read my thoughts.
“Making Speakers say anything against their will, even just normal words, is one of our biggest limitations,” Keeda tells me. “The kind of control it would require to break through another Speaker’s natural defense mechanisms …” She shakes her head again. “I don’t know of anyone in either the Genesis or Exodus generations with that much control, that much power.”
That, at least, brings me some relief.
“You still look worried,” Keeda observes, and my eyes flick up to hers again. Big mistake. Because the moment they do, she cocks her head to the side and says, “Tell us your real name.”
I see the flash and feel the hypnotic words wash over me, and just like the first time, they’re captivating. I know I should respond, should open my mouth, but something is stopping me. Something inside me is saying I don’t have to listen, that I can ignore, that it’s my choice. I hold on to that something, I revel in the security it offers, and when the light that accompanies Keeda’s quiet “Clear” comes, I blink quickly and look at her in amazement.
She sends me a half smile. “See what I mean? Natural defense mechanisms.”
I return her smile tentatively, hoping she can tell I’m grateful she took the time to ease my concerns.
Enzo reclaims my attention by saying, “The last category is Speakers with emotional gifts. Some can manipulate the way others feel … make you happy, sad, angry, embarrassed or whatever. Some can give compliments and offer flattery so believable that you’ll never doubt yourself again. Others can do the opposite.”
I don’t revel in the idea of someone influencing my emotions, but before I can linger too long on the negatives, Enzo continues.
“I’m in the emotional category, since I can use words to encourage others, to motivate and inspire people.”
The teasing glint in his eyes makes my stomach plummet, and I brace for what he’s about to say next.
“I don’t think you need a demonstration, because I’ve been Speaking to you ever since we first met,” Enzo admits, without the slightest hint of shame. “I may have … encouraged you to be more dedicated to your training than you would have normally been.”