Mind Over Psyche by Karina L. Fabian Page B

afterward, her Miscria talent overwhelmed her. He had taken her to the elderly Miscri a himself.
    At least they didn’t live to see him change , she consoled herself. Alugiac had last been seen in the thick of the battle that had killed her parents, healing friend and foe alike. Then he was gone. The Season of War ended, and they scoured the battlefield yet never found him. The next Season of War, he reappeared, leading a Barin army on a sneak attack. Their target: to destroy the Miscria and thus do om Kanaan.
    Tasmae frowned. A group of warriors passing her in the hall picked up the grim nature of her reverie and gave her a wide berth, but lost in her memory, she didn’t notice. The Barins had killed her mentor, but they hadn’t killed her, and they’d paid dearly for their error. Tasmae’s talent had come upon her later than it did for most children, and she’d spent the bulk of her childhood learning from her warrior parents. She had a great deal of skill and a natural ability to see beyond what her senses told her, and to use her talents in un ique ways.
    Seven of her friends had died trying to protect her that day as they fought their way out of the city. When the last Kanaan had dashed out, the door closing on the enemy’s fingers and toes, Tasmae had pressed her hands against the building, drawn on the power of her world, and sent a command. The building trembled and collapsed in on itself, crushing everyone inside, burying her dead friends and de ar mentor.
    She would protect Kanaan and her people against any threat, even if that threat was Deryl and h is friend.
    *
    â€œThese are the baths. Hope you don’t have privacy issues,” D eryl said.
    â€œNah. I’m fine,” Joshua replied as he surveyed the room. It resembled a locker room—if one grew out of a humongous plant. Josh eyed the walls of hexagonal shelves as he sat on a long, flat mushroom and pulled off his shoes. “Those are kind of weird. Like the honeycomb in a beehive.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter? Scared the laundry bees will get you?” Deryl teased as he pulled a towel from a shelf and replaced it with his shirt. He brought the towel to his face. It felt soft as a flower petal, but thick and sturdy. He expected it to smell like lilac, but instead it had a basic non-scent of clea n clothes.
    â€œLaundry bees? You’re kiddin g, right?”
    Deryl laughed at the trepidation in his friend’s voice. “I’m sure they’re too busy to bother with you.”
    Joshua paused, his shirt dangling in one hand. “Did you just pun?”
    â€œI don’t pun.” Deryl said with complete seriousness then murmured, “I’m stung by the ac cusation.”
    He felt Josh’s surprise, quickly replaced by amusement. “Arrgh! Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?” He finished undressing, and wrapped a towel around his middle. “Wish I had a change of clothes. So, where are the showers?”
    â€œNo showers. Communal baths. Like ancient Rome or something. Hope that’s not too weird for you.”
    â€œJust as long as we don’t run into any laundry bees,” Joshua quipped as they headed across the room and through the next door.
    Two steps out of the doorway, they stopped. Joshua let out an appreciative whistle as they scanned th e “baths.”
    They had passed out of the plant part of the keep and into the part within the mountain. The large cave was illuminated by some kind of phosphorescent moss on the walls, covering everything in a shimmering shade of near-twilight blue. Wide, flat-topped stalagmites served as stools or tables around a deep pool more suited for a gym than a bath. Above it, stalactites hung, condensation dripping off them and into the pool. The sound and the ripples caused by the drops were both peaceful and entrancing. Despite the size of the cavern, it was pleasantly warm and just a litt le