Whisper (Whisper #1)(68)
“There are only so many brainwashed, non-Speaker guards at Lengard,” Kael says quietly, likely noting my horrified expression. “Vanik needs a constant supply of … fresh subjects … and he also needs opportunities to test his genetically modified Speakers. To him, it makes sense to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. His temporary Speakers cause the catastrophes — accidental or not — and any live casualties are collected by Vanik to … recycle.”
I didn’t think it was possible to be more repulsed by his actions, but I am. “That’s — that’s — I don’t know what to say.”
“It is what it is,” Kael says, his voice low. “But it’s not all bad news. We’ve managed to build something good here, where we try to hunt down the new-generation Speakers before Vanik can get his hands on them, and we free others from his clutches. The catacombs are our haven, a place for us to come and go as we please. It’s our sanctuary. And more, it’s our base of operations for anyone wanting to be part of the defense against Lengard.”
There’s a lot to address in what he’s just said, but there’s one thing I have to know: “Is Jeremiah — is your dad — is he here?” I was told he died ten years ago, but I’m not sure what to believe anymore.
Kael gives a swift shake of his head, telling me all I need to know. “He’s — he’s no longer with us.”
“I’m sorry,” I offer quietly, and I am. I know what it’s like to lose a father. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. But I’m also sorry because a small part of me feels connected to Jeremiah on a level I haven’t been able to establish with any of the other Speakers. As a Creator, he of all people would understand my inner battle. My constant struggle for control. The reason I can’t talk freely, unlike —
“Wait a second.” I glance around the room, again noting the distinct lack of Karoel. “I know that there are more important issues, but I need to ask — why can’t I Speak down here? How am I talking like a normal person?”
“Ah,” Kael says, leaning back in his seat. “That would be because of me.”
I raise my eyebrows in question.
He offers me a strangely smug look. “You might be a Creator, princess, but me? I’m a Destroyer.”
It’s Enzo’s voice that comes as a memory this time: Creators have all the strengths, none of the weakness … The only other kind of Speaker who has even close to that sort of power is a Destroyer, but there aren’t any of those around anymore.
Clearly, he was mistaken.
“And that means?” I ask.
Kael watches me for a long moment. “I’m only going to answer because I realize that after hauling you down here as I did, you might appreciate a show of faith.”
I withhold my “You think?” glare and wait for him to share.
“I can destroy words,” Kael says. “I can effectively nullify the words uttered by a Speaker, stopping them from having any effect — which is what I’ve been doing with you.”
I marvel at this new information. While I, as a Creator, can do almost anything, and Ward, as a Protector, can control the intent of words that are Spoken, it would seem as if Kael’s Destroyer ability means that he can effectively … dissolve words, stripping them of their power entirely.
“But here’s a bonus most people don’t know,” he adds. “More than just destroying the power of words, I can also change the intent behind them.”
I struggle to understand what he’s saying, still trying to wrap my head around the differences between Speakers.
“Your Slayer friend, Crew, right?” Kael asks, reading my confusion. “He might Speak to open a gash on someone’s knee, but I can redirect the intent behind his words, breaking the person’s arm, instead. My only limit is that I have to stay within the boundaries of a Speaker’s own Speaking ability. I can’t change Crew’s intent to heal, for example, any more than I could use Cami’s words to injure someone.”
“That’s insane,” I whisper, overwhelmed by the possibilities. And then my breath hitches, and I jump out of my seat again, backing away from him when I realize what that could mean for me.
He watches me with a furrowed brow. “What’s going through your head right now?”
“I’m a Creator. I have no boundaries,” I say, telling him something he already knows. “You could do anything you want with me — with my words.”
He stands and moves one step, two steps, three steps closer, until I’m pressed up against the wall and he’s right in my space.
“I could,” he admits, his voice quiet. “Or I could choose to gain your trust by not doing exactly that.” He leans in even closer, if that’s at all possible, and his breath flutters across my skin when he says, “Remember who my dad is, princess. I witnessed his struggle, watched him fight for control every day. He wouldn’t let anyone help him, but I’m hoping you’ll be different. I want you to discover the full scope of what you can do with your ability. In return for my guidance, I want you to help me stop Vanik from hurting anyone else.”
Silence gathers around us while I rally my thoughts enough to frame a response. But I can’t. I don’t know where to begin. As much as I wish it weren’t true, I’m tempted by Kael’s olive branch. Ward drew me in under false pretenses, stealing my trust and throwing it back in my face. Kael, however, literally kidnapped me and gave me every reason to distrust him — but as far as I can tell, he hasn’t once lied to me. And because of that, it’s almost as if, with something as important as this, I can trust him.