Free Abendau's Heir (The Inheritance Trilogy Book 1) by Jo Zebedee Page B

in your dorm. You’ll report directly to me about it. Understood?”
    Perfectly . “Yes, sir.”
    Eevan nodded. “Good. You’re dismissed.”
    Lichio stood, saluted, and turned to go.
    “Lichio.” His brother’s voice was quiet, dangerous.
    “Yes?”
    “Make sure you do this right,” said Eevan. “I want him hemmed in, I want it done by someone I can trust, and I don’t want any fuck-ups. Keep him in his place.”
    “Yes, sir,” he said. “I understand what you’re saying.” And he absolutely did.
     

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    “What now?” asked Silom. They’ d been allocated a bunk, given a brief familiarisation, then left in their bare, utilitarian dorm, with orders to report for duty in the morning.
    Kare shrugged, trying for relaxed; there were a lot of people in the building, judging by the mutter of their minds, and it was hard to think. “Food? There’s supposed to be a mess.”
    “Good plan. I’m starving.” Silom set off to the right, and Kare followed. If there was food, Silom would find it. Sure enough, the sound of plates clattering reached them, and the first smell of food filtered down the corridor.
    They rounded the door into the canteen and Kare stopped, stunned. He’d been here before, with Karia. They’d filled their pockets with supplies to take on the ship. Their dad had caught them, scaring them by grabbing them and announcing he had hamsters instead of kids.
    He put a hand on the counter to steady himself, still spooked from seeing her earlier. It had been years since she’d last appeared to him, and he hadn’t been prepared for it, even though it made sense– everywhere else they’ d shared had been destroyed.
    “Did you hear me?” Silom waved a hand in front of his face. “What do you want?”
    “Anything.” Nothing . He turned, leaning against the counter, and scanned the room. It was too bright, the diners’ faces in sharp focus, making him nauseous. There were too many people here, their minds pressing on him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find some space for his own thoughts, but still they came at him– snippets of other peoples’ lives, threaded personalities, not quite complete.
    “Tea, coffee, piss… any chance of an answer?”
    Kare focused on Silom, grasping his exasperation; his worry about Liane; grief; new from their flight from Dignad, a sense of growing older.
    “Coffee.” He reached for some cups but something touched his leg, making him look down. Karia was beside him, stuffing her pockets full of food. Her pocket bulged and he reached for it, sure it was going to overfill. His hand closed on empty air. She wasn’t real . He jumped back, knocking Silom’s arm.
    “Watch it!” Plates fell from the tray and bounced on the floor, their contents spilling, seemingly in slow motion. Karia grinned, her smile the same as when they’d been children, and then waved and ran from the room.
    “What the hell is wrong with you?” Silom snarled.
    “Nothing.” He staggered to the nearest table and sank onto its bench. He was going mad, he had to be. He hadn’t used the power enough over the years, hadn’t kept up the right level of intensive– to hell with that, incessant – practice his dad had demanded, and it had turned on him, like he’d been warned. Either that, or living as a hermit for a decade meant he just didn’t do crowds.
    A tray slammed on the table in front of him.
    “Try breathing before you pass out,” said Silom, his voice pitched low, almost a growl.
    He nodded and took a deep, ragged, breath.
    “Brilliant. Keep going.” Silom took a chip and pushed the plate to the middle of the table, but the smell made Kare gag. He lifted the coffee, inhaling its aroma, and it cut through the onslaught of thoughts, giving him space to think.
    “You want to tell me what’s happening?” asked Silom.
    No . Silom waited and Kare knew he wouldn’t break first– he rarely did.
    “Too many people,” Kare said, eventually. “I can’t hold