Mind Over Psyche by Karina L. Fabian Page A

her with his stare. She felt his urgency, the call of the Re membrance—
    And I shall, she agreed. But that is not my only duty now, and I cannot allow it to monopolize me. She shared with him a hint of the obligations pulling on her: the preparations for war, the increased needs of Kanaan, neither of which she could tend to while under the influence of the Remembrance. Add the sudden, mysterious arrival of the Ydrel—
    That is why the Remembrance Calls! he protested.
    Salgoud, whom they’d included in their conversation, added that Ocapo and his everyn, Spot, understood their roles well enough that they could do without her for much of the training. For whatever reason, the Ydrel is here. Let him teach us directly , Salg oud added.
    She projected warmth—how often they thought alike. She told Leinad that she would take time to make the arrangements with Deryl, and then—if Kanaan were still—she would give herself to the memories of Gardianju. She felt his sullen assent, tur ned to go.
    Salgoud pushed her into the middle of a sparring circle. She managed to duck and roll to avoid getting smacked by a practice blade. She came up in a crouch, her short sword out of the scabbard she wore and a dagger from her hairpiece in her other hand. The two sparring warriors hesitated only a moment before turning on her. She ducked below the swing of one, scored on the side of the other, barreled between them, and spun toward Leinad and Salgoud. She swung her sword toward the unarmed Leinad, forcing Salgoud to defend him, while with her other hand, she jabbed her dagger toward the warrior’s gut. He anticipated the move, blocked it, and the three stood, weapons locked, until neither could stand it and both broke into snickers.
    Leinad, still flat against the wall, gave them the full brunt of his di spleasure.
    You know what happens when you bring a Remembrance into a ‘war’ zone; besides, we need to work on your reflexes , she chided lightly as she backed more carefully away from her general and left the practic e grounds.
    The Ydrel and his friend had had enough privacy, she’d decided. It was time they spoke with her.
    She shivered with excitement. Only a few Miscria were ever blessed with the ability to contact the Ydrel. Her mentor hadn’t been one of them. Her talent had focused on Kanaan—detecting the changing weather patterns, the unrest caused as the Season of War approached and the planet Barin shone too bright and too large in their sky. No one understood why their world suffered as the other neared. Perhaps Deryl knew; she would ask now that she’d thought of it. Nonetheless, her mentor had been especially adept at regulating the tides, calming the earthquakes, and redirecting Kanaan’s life blood so that when the pressures were too high and it sought release through the violent bloodletting of burning stone, it was done in areas where damage to life was minimal. At least she had taught Tasmae that much before she was killed by the traitor the Barins now called Alugiac th e Prophet.
    Prophet, Tasmae thought, her anger washing away her excitement. The only prophecy he’d brought was one of doom. He had once been Kanaan, a brilliant warrior healer—and her parents’ best friend. He had assisted with Tasmae’s birth and had tended her along with the other warriors in their group. She remembered him and her father trading amused glances when she would run up to him to demand a healing of some cut or bruise she’d gotten in practice, only to run back to the practice ground to get injured again. Once a lapse in attention had made her drop her guard and receive a blow that had knocked her senseless. Her mother had scolded her, but Alugiac had come to Tasmae’s defense, reminding her mother of the time he had healed her of a concussion. However, he’d also recognized there was more to Tasmae’s “lapse” than carelessness; not long