Serendipity (Book 1 of the Dana Halliday series)

MIND READER. SUBTERFUGE. EVIL OVERLORD.

A startled silence fell over the crowd, at least those nearest us. The Sturv stopped their gabbling and stared down at Ullo. Ditto for Barra and the rest of the magistrates. Novi's feathers rose into a wild haystack of a crest. Wennopir looked like he was going to wet himself, or whatever the Bruttar equivalent might be.

Adrian...looked worried.

What the fuck? I couldn't remember—I'd been too preoccupied by breathing at the time—but I didn't think Adrian had looked that worried when he'd seen a hole blown in his ship.

"TheFenn—" Ullo repeated, pointing at Flynt, "—shallbe—removedfromthis—roomimmediately—or—I—claimvictoryonthebasis—of—cheating!"

I turned to look at Flynt. Even as Ullo's long pointing finger drew every eye to him, Flynt didn't move. Except for his slowly waving antennae, he had gone as still as ice.

The Sturv were now chanting something, barely loud enough for me to pick up. As they started up, Flynt tensed, his eyes dilating a little more, his antennae settling into still arcs.

I angled my head until my Earwig caught the Sturv words: "Mind reader! Mind reader!"

The gaggle of magistrates unknotted themselves, and Barra led them to Flynt. The old Bruttar motioned Ullo aside with a wave of his hand; Ullo retreated, scowling on the surface of his face with something like glee beneath.

"Greetings," said Barra. "Mister...?"

Flynt spit out the entirety of his name, not responding when Barra blinked in confusion. He didn't give his nickname or offer to repeat himself.

"This—isdifficult, sir," Barra said at last. He was speaking Sturv Standard, I decided, with the usual Bruttar inflection. "You...mustbeaware—of—the—controversy—your—speciesattracts?"

"I'm a mere, simple Fenn.  Perhaps you'd do me the courtesy of explaining it?"

Behind Barra, I saw Adrian and Lonavat edging closer.

To his credit, Denalar Barra spoke without further hesitation. "Yourspecies—hasbeenknown—toviolate—themindsofothers. I'msureyou—understandtheproblem—in—a—situationlikethis."

"I thought this ritual was designed to encourage deception and subterfuge," Flynt replied. "Lonavat received a higher score for exaggerating his injury, yes?"

Barra bristled. "Surely—youseethe—differencebetweenthat—and—readinganother's—privatethoughts?"

"Of course. But that is an ability I do not possess." Flynt huffed out a breath through his nose. "Adrian, don't."

Adrian had approached the magistrates, all professional civility. I could imagine him discussing a grant proposal in the same manner. 

"Honored—magistrate, myfriendsenses—emotions, notthoughts." He aimed a death glare at the Sturv and switched to Standard. "And you people don't register to him at all, so close your mouths."

The Sturv behind us began hissing, "Prove it. Prove it. Prove it!"

The magistrate didn't look at them; neither did Flynt. 

"There'snoway—to—proveit, isthere?" Barra asked, although it was more of a statement. His tone was hideous, mostly because it was reasonable, even gentle.

"No, of course not." Flynt grew more and more motionless, somehow, and while I didn't think anyone else noticed, his claws were extended.

"Andevenif—youcanonly—sense—emotions, thatwouldbe—ofusein—a—gameofchance, yes? Canyou—sense—fromtheBruttar?"