Free Martyr by A. R. Kahler Page B

an insane incubus wandering the guild, one that could apparently go anywhere he pleased. But Tenn said nothing. He told himself it was because, right now, Tomás wasn’t acting as a threat. If anything, the incubus was helping him, for his own twisted purposes or not. Tenn told himself that, if he played along well enough, he’d figure out why Leanna was looking for him. He told himself he was keeping Jarrett safe.
    But there was another part of him, a twisted part, that didn’t want to say anything out of shame. Shame for the way he let Tomás toy with him, shame for the way he bent to Tomás’s rules.
    And shame because he had a suspicion that, even if he could have fought it, he wouldn’t have.
    Something about Tomás intrigued him. That shamed him worst of all.

7
    Tenn sat in the branches of a willow tree, the long limbs dipping into the lake stretched out below. Lights in academic buildings burned on the shore behind him, and across the water, glinting like stars scattered across the sky, were warm windows glowing with the promise of home. He brought his knees closer to his chest and stared out. Home . He’d come here, to the Academy, to learn about magic. He hadn’t known at the time that the biggest lesson he’d learn was loss and the heavy absence of home .
    The lake was where he’d spent the last week training. Ever since he’d been attuned to Water, he’d come out here with a small handful of other classmates to practice connecting to the waves, all from the warmth of their small lakeside pagoda. The hours were long and boring, but it wasn’t the practice that was getting to him. It was the Sphere itself. Water seemed to have a life of its own. He’d been to the guidance counselor twice since the attuning, thinking he’d developed schizophrenia or depression or bipolar disorder. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop falling prey to visions of his early childhood—all the family fights he hadn’t consciously remembered, all the time sitting alone in his room and wishing public school would grant him at least one friend. The counselor assured him it was normal. That was just what Water brought up for people.
    That might have been nice to know beforehand , he’d said, but he knew it wouldn’t have changed anything. They didn’t have a choice in which Sphere they attuned to. After the testing period, they were all paired up to their optimal match. The fact that the overly emotional Water had been considered his best fit made him question his own stability. And that wasn’t something a fourteen-year-old should have been worrying about.
    At least it might have explained all the emotions that had bubbled up around that boy he’d seen in class. Tyler. Just thinking of him made Tenn’s heart twist. Yeah, it must have just been Water.
    â€œSo this is what you dream, Tenn?”
    Tenn jerked around, nearly falling out of the tree.
    A man stood on the shore, just a few yards off. He was unfamiliar—pinstriped black suit, slicked grey hair, an ebony walking stick. Then, like some horrible celestial clockwork, things clicked in Tenn’s mind. The man didn’t belong here. But then again, neither did he. He glanced down at his hands. They were worn—calloused and scarred. And he wore the ragged blacks of a Hunter.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” Tenn asked.
    He half-expected the dream to fade now that he was aware he was, in fact, dreaming. It didn’t. That was worse.
    He tried opening to the Spheres, but they didn’t work. Of course not—not here. Which meant he was facing the man who’d killed all his friends, and he could do nothing about it.
    You’re dreaming. You couldn’t do anything anyway, right?
    â€œWhy, I’m just observing,” Matthias said. He took a step closer. His feet didn’t leave an impression in the sand. “After all, someone whom Leanna so actively