Healing Ties (Ties, Book 2) | ✓

Chapter 54

Fanner's mind had been split in a semi-trance state as he simultaneously watched the stories play out before him and managed the task of moving energy between Cookie and the donors. He blinked and took a slow breath in and out as Justin's story faded away and he found himself fully returned to the real world.

He felt strange. Numb, tingly, and sore all at once. His body wasn't used to having so much energy pulled in and out of itself. Yore was already getting up and walking over to him.

Yore dipped his head down to talk to Fanner. "Are you okay?"

Fanner nodded. More than anything, he was still processing what he'd seen. The amount of death and suffering. He didn't think he'd ever fully recover from the things he'd been through as a slave, but others had experienced even worse.

Fanner understood now why Kit had looked into his mind just days after Whelan had cut into him and seen someone they wanted to protect. And Duran. Duran clearly desperately wanted to leave his past behind him, but could he so easily shed everything he'd been through?

Libby was standing at the highest point on the hill, staring out towards the human camp and worrying at her lip.

"Can you tell if it worked?" Yore asked her.

She shook her head. "It's... confusion. Too many different emotions."

"That's expected, I suppose. No matter how they feel about what they were shown, having someone aggressively invade your thoughts without warning must come as a shock."

Libby turned her head and stared back at the town seconds before Fanner started hearing shouting coming from that direction. "I should go and mediate. Our own people are also not so sure how to process what they saw. Keep an eye on the humans for me."

"I will. Good luck."

As Libby walked away, Fanner snuck out his hand and took hold of Yore's. It was hard to make out what the humans were doing, but it was clear the camp had been stirred into chaos, like someone had kicked an ant's nest.

Yore made a quiet sound in the back of his throat as he pointed. "Look."

A single point of light had broken away from the camp and was heading towards them. Just one man carrying a torch, hurrying in their direction.

One of the orc guards stepped up beside them, his eyes squinting as they tracked the figure. "Trouble?"

"Maybe," Yore said.

"Just one man," the orc said.

"One man with a gun can be deadly."

"Kit wouldn't let that happen," Fanner reminded him. "Can we... do you think we could try to be friendly? Even if he isn't? If he can't hurt us..."

"He's right," Yore told the orc. "Let's try to be as diplomatic as we can."

The orc grunted and hefted his spear onto his shoulder as he went to talk to the other guards.

As the man got closer, Fanner got a clearer view of him. He was dressed in shabby, piecemeal armour, a sword strapped at his hip. The orcs met him as he was coming up the hill, their spears crossing in front of them to halt him non-violently. Yore headed down the hill towards them, so Fanner followed.

"Do you have my son?" the man was shouting. He hadn't drawn his sword yet, but he was certainly agitated.

"Can I help you?" Yore asked as they approached.

"My son," the man said, clearly frustrated. "Do you have my son?"

"I don't—" Yore started to say, but Fanner stopped him with a hand on his arm.