I had researched the others, pored through every scrap of information I could find, every detail my mother had to offer, but I was no closer to understanding it. The Council had their own doctors, their own scientists. They had studied them for years, but even their understanding was limited.
Human brainwaves were no more than electrical pulses, so it stood to reason that those of the Seven Lines were somehow thrusting those pulses into another’s system. By focusing on a person, or touching them, they could generate the pulse, and therefore the impulse, to act out a certain objective. It made sense, as a theory. Unfortunately, there was no proof to it. Beyond that, there were the other things. Their ability to heal faster and sleep less, as well as the talents they had since lost.
And then there were the visions.
I may have been lacking answers, but there was one thing I knew for certain. Morgan’s men had to be stopped. Aern had to be able to prevent war. And Emily was the center of it all.
The problem was, I didn’t know if it was magic. I didn’t know if it was science. I didn’t know, and so I didn’t have a clue what to look for, no idea how to fix it.
“Think about something else,” I said to Emily, eyes still closed.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking about,” she said.
I slid my grip up her arms to the base of her wrists. “I can feel your heart rate. I said it’s fine. I am fine.”
Emily let out a frustrated sigh.
“Think of …” I stopped, because there was nothing I could tell her to think of. Nothing that didn’t bring to mind the death of our mother, the time we’d spent running, the danger that was coming.
My eyes came open to find Emily watching me, the same troubled expression I wore. “Is there something I can do?” she asked, after a minute of heavy silence.
“I don’t know,” I said. “God, Emily, I don’t know.”
She turned our hands, the tattoos at the base of my wrists staring back at us. They had saved her for a while. Some outcome my mother had seen, some premonition had warned her to hide us, to mark her second child as the chosen. To mislead the very men we were helping. “I can’t believe this is all for nothing, Brianna. I can’t believe we’ve come this far, only to fail.”
“I don’t think I can do it,” I said. “You’re not the same as the others, there’s something … different about our makeup. With them, it’s only a matter of finding connections, fusing them in place. But with us, those fibers are different. I can’t see them. I can’t see what I should do.”
“You will,” Emily said. “I know you will.”
I stared into her sea green eyes, past her attempt to hide worry and concern, and knew she was telling the truth. She believed I could do it. She believed I would save them.
And if I didn’t, she would die.
Logan came back within minutes of Emily leaving my room. I wondered if he’d gotten any sleep at all, but he looked as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. When he came closer, the fresh scent of soap confirmed it.
“Your sister said you needed rest,” he offered.
I nodded. “I’m just going to sit here for a while. I have some thinking to do.”
He sat on the small table beside where I was curled into the couch. After a moment, I realized he was examining me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling a pillow onto my lap. “They aren’t usually that bad.” A shiver ran through me at the thought, the recalled image, and he moved to reach for a woven throw. I wrapped it around me, not wanting to admit it wasn’t the cold.
“Is there anything I should do … the next time?”
“No,” I said. I thought of the busted door, his arms around me. “You did just fine.”
It was the last thing I remembered until I woke hours later. I was stretched out on the couch, throw tucked tightly under my chin, and—I realized when I stretched—barefoot. I glanced at my boots, standing neatly on the floor at the end of the couch, and sat up, finding the knife that had been stowed there lying on the side table.
Logan saw me looking at the blade, but made no comment.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Almost four.” At my yawn, he added, “You sleep like the dead.”
I nodded. It happened every time I worked with the connections. The magic took something out of me. And it wasn’t just that, I was starving.
“You need to eat,” Logan said, though I wasn’t sure if he could read the hunger in my expression or it was simply the knowledge that I’d worked through lunch and slept through dinner.
“I can wait for breakfast.”
He frowned.
“I’m not going to wake someone up to cook for me.”
“Then we won’t,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him.
I started for my knife and boots, and Logan turned. “You don’t need those, Brianna. We’re only going downstairs.”
I flushed, leaving both to follow him through the door. Two guards were positioned at opposite ends of the hallway, heavily armed and perfectly alert. I took a little hop-step to catch Logan’s stride, but lost it again when he took the stairs two at a time.
“Are you in a hurry?” I whispered toward his back as I rushed to keep up.