“You did nothing wrong,” Marish told her. “That just means that I didn’t break the mental contact quickly enough.”
“Was I seeing you rightly?” Itana whispered. “Or was I imagining things?”
“You perhaps see them as wounds because you are a healer. But most telepaths would see them as zones of sadness, stress, or anger.”
“I wish I could do something about them.” She didn’t so much whisper the words as exhale them.
But of course his Oldblood senses picked up every syllable.
“There is something you can do,” Marish said, and she could hear the ghost of a smile in his voice.
It annoyed her, and she looked up into his face again. His expression was as blank as a statue’s or a judge’s, except for the twinkle in his eyes.
“What?” she asked warily.
A lopsided grin spread across his face. “We
