Ksar’s expression changed a little. “I don’t know,” he said, his gaze intent on Seyn. “There are whispers among the Council that he achieved his high rank using some very dubious methods. Not to mention that the old High Adept’s death certainly raised a few eyebrows. He had been in perfect health, so his sudden death was rather suspicious, even though there was no proof that his successor had anything to do with it.”
Seyn found himself taking an involuntary step closer, his eyes locked with Ksar’s. “Yeah? So you think he’s a high-level telepath?”
“It seems likely,” Ksar replied, watching him intently. “You want to suggest something?”
Seyn looked away before returning his gaze to Ksar.“You bonded Harry to Leylen without any trouble. Maybe you should…it would make sense for you to bond us now to avoid suspicion.” He bit the inside of his cheek, his stomach clenching as he waited for Ksar’s reaction. He hated how insecure he felt. It wasn’t as though he was offering something outrageous. It was a perfectly logical thing to do to ensure that everything went smoothly. Sure, he would be tied by the bond again, but it would be for a very short time until the High Adept broke it officially. It wasn’t as though he wanted to be bonded to Ksar again.
“No,” Ksar said.
Seyn’s insecurity shifted into annoyance. “Why not? It’s perfectly reasonable!”
“We can’t risk establishing a deep telepathic connection like the bond.”
Seyn lifted his chin stubbornly. “Enlighten me why not.”
Ksar glared at him. “Merging minds is dangerous, you little idiot. It can create something akin to addiction.”
Flushing, Seyn glared back. “I assure you I’m not addicted to your vile mind.”
Ksar stepped even closer, looking at Seyn with intensity that had Seyn’s cheeks burning and toes curling. “Are you absolutely sure that’s not why you want me deeper in you right now?”
Seyn’s hands curled into fists. He hissed aloud, “You arrogant ass—”
The door opened, and the High Adept walked back into the room.
Seyn stepped away from Ksar, his hands still trembling with rage.
“My apologies for the interruption, Your Highnesses, but I have other duties waiting for me, so I cannot delay your appointment any longer,” the High Adept said neutrally. If he had heard them arguing, he gave no sign of it, his face an emotionless mask.
“That’s quite all right,” Ksar said. “Let’s proceed. I have other matters that require my attention, as well.”
The High Adept inclined his head slightly and walked to the ceremonial rug in the middle of the room. “Please kneel beside me and lower your mental shields.”
Seyn hesitated, but did as he was told. He lowered his shields—after carefully tucking away all the compromising thoughts and memories he had no wish to share. He also dialed down his powers to the best of his ability, trying to pass for the Class 2 telepath he was supposed to be.
Still pissed off, he pointedly didn’t look at Ksar, who sat down across from him.
When the High Adept laid his hands over their napes, his thumb pressing against the point just below Seyn’s ear—his telepathic center—Seyn braced himself.
He could feel the pressure of a foreign mind pushing into his and had to curb the instinct to throw it out. The High Adept’s mind felt invasive, forceful, and alien—wrong. It was strong, too strong, overwhelming and disorientating. It felt like the worst kind of violation, and Seyn fought back the wave of nausea. Ksar’s mind had never felt like this. Did that mean the High Adept was a stronger telepath than Ksar?
He didn’t know what Ksar’s plan was, but it sure as hell wasn’t working, because Seyn could feel the moment the mind adept discovered that there was no bond in his mind. The emotionless, cold pressure on his mind changed to suspicion, then anger, then suspicion again—before the invasive presence suddenly disappeared from his mind.
Gasping for breath, Seyn snapped his eyes open. Trying to ignore the splitting headache and nausea, he focused his gaze with some difficulty on what was happening in the room.
The High Adept was kneeling now too, as if his knees had given out. He was shaking faintly, his face deathly pale. His once emotionless eyes were wide with shock and something like horror as he struggled for breath, staring at Ksar.
Ksar, who had a look of intense concentration on his face, a bead of sweat running down his forehead.
Seyn’s skin prickled with goosebumps. He could literally feel the power pulsing in the room, one mind trying to subdue the other. He could feel that the High Adept was putting up one hell of a fight, his training in mind arts clearly superior to that of Ksar. But it still wasn’t enough. Although Ksar had told Seyn that raw power wasn’t everything, it obviously was in that particular case. Seyn could feel the force of Ksar’s telepathy crushing the other man’s, over and over, one blow after another.