Page 17 of Cage of Starlight
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Helner laughs, short and sharp. “Hulven’s not too far from the border, is it? Perhaps you small-towners still use the old terms. DoesWorldseedring a bell? First Children? We would call you a Channeler, synergistic Source.”
“What?”
Helner stares. “You really don’t . . .?”
Tory stares back.
“Oh, come on.Surely, you’ve heard the stories. Shit, it went something like—I don’t know. Once upon a time, there was a weird dog god who died, and the first-ever Seeds grew up out of its ashes or something?”
“You could not be more wrong.” Vantaras sounds disgusted.
Helner snorts. “Didn’t ask you. Anyway, you’re one of those. The first ones. We call them Sources. There are two great big umbrella types of Seeds, see? Intrinsic and synergistic. The way the stories go, it all started with two Seeds—one of each type. The originals ofthose two types are long-dead, but once every generation or three, a Source gets recycled into the mix again, and people make a fuss. You’re the synergistic Source.”
“What does thatmean?”
Helner’s hands fly up. “Fuck if I know, but I’d like to figure out. The comparative rarity of the Sources means we don’t fully understand their particular skills. You following?”
Not in the least. Tory’s eyes burn, lids weighted, shoulder throbbing where she reached inside him.Observe and absorb. If he can get her to tell him what she means—what he is, what hedidwith the carriage, he can keep it from happening again when he’s free. He waits for her to speak, presses his lips together, longs for dark and sleep. The dead stellite lighting in the wall casts thick shadows on the table in front of him.
“Right, you’ve been living under a rock! Let me explain it like this: regular old synergistic Seeds work with energies outside of their own bodies, and they work with onlyonetype of energy. Pyros with fire, Healers with life—you get the gist. They amplify those energies and use them to affect the world around them.TrueHealers amplify life energy to close wounds or heal ailments, but they can’t fix a corpse because a dead body has no energy they can use. Kineticists work with objects or bodies in motion. Typical bruisers. They can strengthen their own attacks, increase their speed, or accelerate projectiles at a target, but the thing they amplify must first be moving. Pyrokineticists start with a spark and make it an inferno, but they’re useless without that spark. Useless to us, too, really. They have a reputation for hotheadedness and a habit of being unable to control the breadth of destruction they cause, so we don’t keep any here. But it’s like that. Electricity, heat, movement, the energy that fuels thegrowth of plants—any flavor of energy you can imagine likely has a synergistic Seed that can handle or enhance it.”
She doesn’t wait for him to nod, just lashes a hand across the table, points its fingers like a spear, and shoves it not only straight through Tory’s hand but through the whole table. Tory only half-swallows the yelp that tries to escape him, and Helner grins like a sated beast as she pulls back and wiggles her fingers.
“Intrinsic Seeds, meanwhile, are exactly what they sound like. The energiesweuse are intrinsic to our bodies and usually enhance a sense or ability we already possess. Many people can reach, but few can reach through solid objects. Illusionists can manipulate people’s senses to make them see or hear or believe whatever they’d like. Other intrinsic Seeds can do party tricks like taste the truth or hear the past, but the Grand General has little use for games, so we don’t stock the party-trick types here, either.”
“Okay . . .”
Helner’s still smiling. “So, synergists enhance external energies. Intrinsics use their own.”
“Not sure how this relates to me.”
The smile widens, and Tory bites his tongue. “Oh? Why?”
“When I heal—” He cuts himself off. Was this her goal? Admitting to being unable to amplify healing energy is admitting to having and exercising an ability to heal.
“You can’t amplify energies,” she guesses, smug. “Don’t look so shocked. Firstly, it’s because you’re not a Healer.”
Tory’s aching bones and Kelly’s closed wounds beg to differ.
“It’s a shame. These meatheads would mine the core of this rotten planet to get more of them. What youareis a Channeler, the synergistic Source. Channelers can’t amplify energies like other Seeds,but for that sacrifice they gain something far greater. They don’t just interact with one energy. They’re supposed to be able to interact withevery energy. What you did when you stopped that carriage in its tracks was a compelling mimic of a Seed type that can redirect concussive force. Make sense?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Not my fault. You don’t make sense. The short version of all of this is that you can do more, work longer, spread your energies farther—but you lack the ability to amplify them. I’d love to find out why, but alas, theGrand Generalis more interested in putting your skills to work than learning about them, to my eternal frustration. In practice, it means you’re a terrible Healer. Worse than terrible. You’re—” Helner’s eyes sharpen on the door as a petite, dark-haired girl strides by, fists clenched. Helner calls, “Open the door, open the door!” to the mousy man with the clipboard, then yells, “You! Niela, right? You’re a Healer. Get in here.”
“Absolutely not. Someone in CFR just lost theireye.”
Sighing, Helner tugs something from her hair—a scalpel—and flings the cap off. She drags its blade over her palm, splitting the skin gruesomely. “Oh no! I’m wounded.”
The dark-haired girl growls and stomps in. Before Helner’s palm can fill all the way up with blood, she lays two fingers on it, and the wound seals.
Tory gapes.
It’sinstant. One moment, the wound is stretched wide. The next, it’s gone. Helner flings the blood onto the ground, to the chest-clutching horror of the man with the clipboard, and shows Tory her hand. There’s no scar, not even a thin pink line to show where the cut used to be.
Even for an injury so small, it would’ve taken Tory a minute to get it closed.
