“Do you deny that you have the Gift?” When Ara didn’t answer, he continued, “If close enough, the Gifted can speak with their minds. As you did with me yesterday. It’s called Mindspeak,” He shook his head in disapproval. “A foolish thing to do. If I’d been an Assassin, you wouldn’t have survived the encounter.” 
                          
He began pacing, casting her dark glances every now and again. “Are you totally ignorant about how you do it?”
                          
Her chin jutted out in defiance. “I know that I can separate pieces of my soul from my body.”
                          
He nodded. “Well, at least you’re not totally incompetent. I’ve come across Gifted that hadn’t even managed to figure out that much.” She crossed her arms over her chest. He didn’t seem to care that he’d offended her. “I don’t suppose you could know that the Gift is as individual as the person bearing it?” 
                          
Her arms dropped to her sides. “Individual how?”
                          
He shrugged. “It’s simple. I can do things you can’t. You can do things I can’t.” She noticed that he didn’t offer to explain what he could do. Instead, he gave her a level look. “Does anyone else know you’re Gifted?”
                          
“Tenan does. My mother and father too.” 
                          
He grunted. “Three years, and Tenan never said a word. If you lived anywhere less remote, we’d have had you in our safe houses by now. You’re sure that no one else knows? No stranger’s come around and attacked you with the Gift?”
                          
Ara pursed her lips into a tight line. “There was someone.”
                          
Coen froze in the midst of his pacing. “When? What did he look like?”
                          
Ara struggled to make her mind work. “A few days ago. He wore a hooded cloak. But I managed to catch a glimpse of him. He was bone thin and his eyes . . . ” Her gaze suddenly narrowed. “Why?”
                          
Coen swore under his breath. “Kanovians Assassins are trained to use their Gift to kill the Untrained. I don’t know how you escaped alive.”
                          
Ara’s breath snagged in her throat. “He fled.” 
                          
“He’ll be back—probably with more Assassins.” Coen ran his hand through his soft brown hair. “Anything else I should know?” He fixed that piercing gaze on her again. 
                          
Ara thought of telling him of Lodan, but it suddenly occurred to her that she’d just met Coen. Lodan had told her to keep it secret. And hadn’t Tenan told her to stay away from Coen?
                          
He must have seen her distrust. “You’d be a fool to trust a stranger, but this man knows where you are. He’ll come for you. You must leave. I know people—we have a network. We can relocate you; help you understand how to better hide what you can do. To use it. To protect yourself.” 
                          
Fear consumed her, burning through her resolve like fire through paper. She took a deep breath. If she left, how would Lodan ever find her again? Where would she go? How would her family survive? 
                          
But it didn’t matter. Tenan wouldn’t let them force her away. He wouldn’t. Folding her arms, she stood her ground. “This is my home. I won’t be chased away by some . . . ” assassin. She paused, unwilling to actually say it out loud. “I’m not afraid of him.” 
                          
Coen laughed bitterly. “You should be.”
                          
Ara glared at him. “I still don’t trust you.” 
                          
“Good.” The respect on his face suggested he meant it as a compliment. “You don’t have much of a choice though.” 
                          
The more Coen spoke, the more Ara’s feet embedded themselves the Bondell’s soil. Why is he having such an effect on me? “Oh really,” she hissed. 
                          
Coen must have seen the determined glint in her dark eyes. He kicked at a clod of straw in frustration, opened the stall, and strode out. 
                          
Ara flung on the rest of Talbot’s gear. Not even waiting to clear the stables, she kicked him into a gallop, flying past Coen as he entered the inn. “How did such a fool become a Cent in the Nonaean army,” she muttered to Talbot. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel safe.” 
                          
#
                          
At the sound of a horse outside the barn, Ara dove into Talbot’s stall. Her horse gave her a curious look before going back to his manger. She peeked over the wall and breathed a sigh of relief when Tenan led Killer in. 
                          
Opening the stall, she stepped out. 
                          
Tenan took one look at her and laughed. “I never did understand why you liked that lake so much. Even at high summer, it’s colder than midwinter.” Ara was starting to wish she’d stayed hidden in the stall. “When you’re mad about something, you always cool your temper in that lake—like after you hit the highest ranked officer for over a hundred leagues.”
                          
Ara gaped. “He told you!”
                          
Obviously pleased with himself, Tenan chuckled. “Somebody hit him. It was pretty easy to figure out who.” He smiled crookedly at her perplexed look. “Coen’s the best fighter I’ve ever seen. If another man somehow managed to hit him, Coen would have leveled him. That meant it was a woman. The only woman with enough gall is you.”
                          
Ara glared at him.
                          
Tenan lifted his hands. “Now don’t look at me that way. I’ve never seen Coen interested in a girl. He probably got a little carried away, maybe even deserved it. All the same, he’s a powerful man. A good man, but a powerful one. Don’t go making a habit out of punching him.”
                          
Anger smoldered at his assumption, she crossed her arms. “He knows I’m Gifted.”
                          
Tenan’s cheerfulness seemed to wilt. “I know.”
                          
“You know?” she asked incredulously.
                          
Tenan’s hands began moving again. “Stay away from him, Ara.”
                          
“Done,” she huffed.
                          
Tenan grunted. “That’s as may be, but after your little run in with the Assassin, I thought it best for him to stay with us. He agreed. I’ve never met another man who could best him in a fight. You’ll be safe enough until I take you to Ahdlyn.”
                          
“Ahdlyn! You’re taking me to. . . You can’t possibly agree with Mother and Father on this!”
                          
“Never agreed with them more. You’re ignorant of evil, little sister. And I won’t let you die for it.”
                          
Ara suddenly realized what else Tenan had said about Coen. “He’s staying with us! I thought you told me to stay away from him!”
                          
“And I meant it. I don’t want you making friends with him.” 
                          
“Tenan,” Ara growled. “You’re not making any sense.”
                          
“So what if I’m not?” he shot back. “Mother, Coen, and I have already discussed it. He knows some people who relocate Gifted. We’ll take you to them when leave is up.”
                          
Ara couldn’t fathom her mother, Tenan, and Coen discussing her future without so much as asking her. And what business was any of this to Coen? “And what if I refuse?”
                          
“Then I’ll strap you to the back of my horse like a sack of flour and cart you there myself.”
                          
Tears were already forming in her eyes. She was supposed to have an ally when Tenan returned. Instead, she had another parent. Wet hair or no, she wasn’t going to listen to anymore of his advice. She turned and stormed away. 
                          

                          
“Coen will be sleeping in the barn loft, so be nice,” Tenan called after her.
                          
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