Page 45 of A Kingdom Restored

“Of course I do,” Heath assured her. “Why do you think I haven’t told the king about my talents?”

She still looked troubled, and he turned toward her, speaking more seriously.

“I’m not ordinarily in the habit of surveilling the king,” he told her. “I don’t want to follow him all the time, and even if I did want to, I don’t have the skill. Farsight doesn’t let you see anyone and everyone at will. There has to be a connection between you. Even Reka would struggle to just follow King Matlock. But he has no trouble watching me from afar, because of the depth of relationship between us.”

“So how did you overhear the king’s order?” she asked.

“I’ve used my farsight to create a limited connection,” Heath said, warming to the topic in spite of himself. It had been a complex and difficult task, and he was quite proud of his success. “It’s not like the connection I have with Merletta.”

“What’s that connection like?” his grandmother asked, sounding fascinated.

“I imagine it’s a bit like what Reka experiences with me,” Heath said. “He doesn’t literally watch me all the time, but it’s as though we’re at opposite ends of a thread, and if I say his name, the thread is tugged, grabbing his attention. For me, I’m constantly aware of Merletta. Usually it’s just in the background—I’m so used to it now, I barely notice it most of the time. And if I want to see what she’s doing, like I did just now, I don’t really have to concentrate in order to connect in.”

“Does she know about this connection you’ve forged?” the princess challenged.

Heath leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Yes,” he said. “I’ve told her. She says she doesn’t mind. Sometimes she uses it, to tell me things. It must be frustrating for her not to be able to see or hear my response, though.”

“But the king doesn’t know you can watch him,” his grandmother pointed out.

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t watch him very often,” Heath said. “It’s a matter of investment—I don’t have anything like the personal investment in him that I have in Merletta.”

“So how were you able to create a connection, however limited?” pressed the princess.

“It’s as much a connection with Percival as it is with the king,” Heath explained. “Perce is easy for me to see, and even King Matlock is sufficiently within my circle of concern for me to catch glimpses of him from time to time, when my magic is being most cooperative. With some practice, I’ve sort of…woven my magic around the king in such a way that any mention he makes of Percival activates my extra sight.”

“So your magic—and by extension some corner of your mind—is always listening for a prompt. In addition to watching Merletta half the day, unless I’m much mistaken.” She pursed her lips. “That sounds exhausting.”

“It is a lot,” Heath acknowledged, his weight still resting on his knees.

She laid one wrinkled hand on his arm. “It’s too much, Heath. You’ll be torn in two if you keep this up much longer.”

“I’m fine,” Heath told her dismissively. He ran a hand over his chin, feeling the rugged growth there. It had been days since he’d shaved. He’d been too distracted to care about such trivialities.

“Heath.” Something in his companion’s tone compelled him to look up and meet her eyes. “You’re not fine. I don’t mean to insult you, but the strain is showing. You look a mess.”

“How do you expect me to look, Grandmother?” Heath protested, frustrated. “Percival still has a noose dangling over him, and Merletta has just put her head in the shark’s mouth. Should I just be going happily about my life as if everything is normal?”

“I don’t blame you for being distressed,” she responded. “We all are. But it won’t do anyone any good for you to stretch yourself so thin you break.”

“My best chance of keeping Percival alive is to be alerted as soon as the king decides to set an execution date,” Heath told her. “I can’t afford to be taken by surprise.”

She was still frowning at him, apparently considering her response, when the sound of approaching wind made them both look up. Reka descended in slow circles, eventually alighting right in the middle of a well-manicured garden bed nearby.

“Greetings, Heath,” he said placidly, inclining his head slightly then swiveling to face Heath’s grandmother. “Greetings, Princess Jocelyn, dragonfriend of my sire.”

“Greetings, Rekavidur,” she said softly. “I am glad to see you again.”

He inclined his head once more, although his gaze was already traveling back to Heath. “Did I just hear you instructing the princess on the use of farsight? Has she developed a new type of magic so late in life?”

“No, I’m happy to say,” Heath’s grandmother responded dryly. “It sounds like more responsibility than I think I can handle.”

“What a curious perspective,” Rekavidur said, sounding intrigued. “Do you consider your own magic more pleasure or responsibility?”

“Let’s not get into a discussion of magic lore,” Heath interjected quickly. “Reka, you can interrogate my grandmother later.”

“I would be wise not to count on that,” Reka pointed out. “She is, after all, of an advanced age for a human.”

“Watch whose age you’re calling advanced,” laughed the princess. “I’m not on my deathbed yet.”

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