Page 38 of Ties of Dust

The doctor nodded, rubbing his hands together in a businesslike way.

Flora could sense the Dust puffing out in tiny clouds from the movement. That wasn’t the magic he would use for the mind-altering enchantment, however. The type of movement was relevant to what the magic would comfortably do. He would need something more complex, not to mention something that would create more motion. Simple movement of limbs generated very little power.

She watched curiously as he pulled a scarf from his bag. It was silken and light, its colors a mesmerizing blend of red to purple to blue.

“That’s lovely,” she commented.

He smiled. “I’m glad you think so. It’s designed to occupy the mind. It’s part of the enchantment, in a sense.” He narrowed his eyes as he stared across the prince’s receiving room. “It’s not as windy a day as I’d like, but I think it’ll do. Come, let’s move closer to the window.”

They did so, the prince striding in front to helpfully open the window.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” The physician stuck his head out, assessing the breeze.

Curious herself, Flora put an arm out the window. They were on the third level of the castle, and a decent little wind swirled around her hand. She could feel its movement, the Dust slipping through her fingers and out of reach. The movement of the wind itself was harnessable, of course. But working directly with the elements was a skill that required not only a lot of finesse, but incredible energy. It was what made Lord Armand’s rain-based enchantment so impressive. Infuriating, heavy-handed, illegal…but impressive.

The physician likely didn’t have that level of skill in magic craft. And even if he did, he couldn’t afford to expend that kind of energy, not when he was about to perform a medical procedure.

“This will help,” the older man said cheerfully, seizing a hook-ended pole that was used for opening and closing high windows.

He knotted the scarf securely around it, then poked it out of the window. As the other two watched in interest, he flicked the pole neatly, so that the whole scarf poured out of the window and caught the wind. It danced before their eyes, weaving back and forth in a complicated rhythm that the physician had clearly used many times before.

It was effective. Flora could feel the Dust streaming out from the scarf in a complex spiral. The physician hadn’t yet taken hold of it, but he no doubt would.

“Focus your gaze on the scarf,” he told her. “Try to let the colors and the rhythm captivate your mind. Do you know how to let me in?”

She nodded nervously. She understood in theory. In the same way that taking control of the magic created by someone else’s movement required wrestling it from them in a battle of magical will—and cost more energy than you would gain from the use of that magic—using magic to affect someone else’s mind required incredible strength and energy…unless they willingly let you in.

She was more practiced at keeping people out, but she was willing to try.

She stared at the scarf, letting her mind drift with its flapping waves and her magical sense be saturated with awareness of the Dust stirred by its movement. She could feel when the physician formed that magic into an enchantment, but she tried not to focus on the mechanics of it. Instead she stilled her thoughts in an effort to dismantle the natural protections that usually kept her mind safe from magical attack.

If her body was as easily shielded, she wouldn’t be in this mess, because the tether would never have happened.

The thought floated through her awareness as she felt the physician’s magic enter her mind. It was an alarming sensation. Trust was most definitely required in order to let anyone alter her awareness this way. She hoped she hadn’t erred in agreeing.

With the thought came a vicious jab of pain in her shoulder. She drew in a sharp breath between her teeth. She hadn’t even realized the physician had started his work.

“Are you all right, Flora?” The prince’s concerned voice entered her awareness.

“Try to lower your defenses, child.” The physician’s soft instruction made her realize that she’d unintentionally begun to fight his interventionagain.

How could she help being tense? She knew nothing of the physician—in reality, it was the prince she was choosing to trust.

For some reason the thought calmed her. She tried to focus her attention away from the pain and back toward relaxing the will that wanted so badly to fight against outside interference. Slowly, she felt her mind go fuzzy again, the pain receding to a dull ache as the physician continued to poke and pull.

Flora’s eyes drifted from the fluttering scarf on the pole—which she realized the physician was now holding between his knees so as to free his hands—to Prince Cassius’s face.

“I hope I’m not wrong to trust you,” she said, studying his features pensively. “I have a lot of reasons not to want strangers poking around in my mind.”

“Do you?” The prince’s eyebrows went up. “How about you tell me one?”

The physician cleared his throat. “I don’t think so, Your Highness. You’re here to ensure I don’t take liberties with the access this young lady has given me to her mind. Part of my responsibility is not to allow you to do so either.”

“Sorry.” The prince sent the physician a smile that looked more boyish than usual. “You’re right, of course.”

Flora took the words in, but her mind didn’t make much sense of them. She was sure it was nothing she need worry about.

“That jacket really is very fancy,” she commented instead. “I admired it the whole way from Siqual, when I was riding behind you.” She reached out a finger to trace a pattern of the brocade on the prince’s sleeve. His arm jerked slightly under the contact, and she pulled her eyes to his face. “Your face is fancy, too,” she informed him. “Areyou aware that your eyes match the jacket perfectly? I suppose that’s why you chose it.”

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