I was surprised at the obvious lie. There’d be no choice. I’d have to do exactly what he told me to do, and if that meant incinerating or irradiating people, then that’s what I’d have to do. I doubted I could even choose my own death instead. He could get inside my head and control me like a puppet, so that disobedience would be literally impossible. That’s what he’d done with the green man.

I suppose he took my silence for acquiescence, because he went on. “As you know, the emergence of gifts is the second stage of Nolander development. You are now in the radically anomalous position of possessing a gift without being able to sense workings. You can make what you cannot perceive.”

I nodded dully.

“Given the life-or-death situation you describe, I believe your capacity was once again forced into untimely growth. As a result, it seems to have become even more irregular in its shape.”

“So, I’m lopsided?”

“I suppose that is as good a term as any other. In fact, the metaphor is useful. As you know from mundane experience, lopsided things tend to be unstable. Likewise, your capacity is unbalanced and is likely to function unpredictably for some time. Our lessons should be safe enough, but I must ask you to continue to refrain from attempting to sense workings outside my presence. In addition, you must not use your gift. Any such attempt could be extremely dangerous.”

So far as I’m concerned, I’m never using it again.

“Don’t worry,” I said aloud. “I wouldn’t know how to use it if I wanted to.

During the ensuing days and weeks, I slid back into my routine — workouts with Gwen, combat training with Tezzy, lessons with Cordus.

My “spa week” in the S-Em, as Gwen called it, had brought improvements to two out of the three areas of my education. I’d lost fat and gained muscle, which pleased Gwen. I’d also apparently gotten something Tezzy called “focus.” She talked about my “deepened commitment to the art” and my “predator’s eye.” It sounded like mumbo-jumbo to me. I think she basically meant I wasn’t quite as easy to knock over.

In my lessons with Cordus, however, I remained unable to sense the little heat-working he held out. My progress with Baasha was slow — even mastering the alphabet was a struggle. Fortunately, he remained patient.

I went back to visiting Justine, who’d survived being buried in the sinkhole. She continued to vacillate between fear and anger, and I continued to dread seeing her. I also reconnected with Tiffany, who’d been frightened when I stopped answering her calls. Ben still didn’t want to talk to me, though Tiff said things seemed to be getting a little better.