“Yes. Reading a soul is going deep, learning secrets, learning the full measure of a person, what they’ve done, what they think and believe. Who they are.”

“I still think you’re walking a thin line.”

“And I think it’s something I need to do for this organization to survive.” She used his words against him.

“Fair enough.” He turned to leave.

“Jayden.”

He paused on the threshold.

“I haven’t read anyone’s soul. Not to that depth. But I will if I have to. I’ll cross that line and not apologize.”

Jayden glanced over his shoulder and met her gaze. “Good to know.” Then he left.

She plopped onto her sitting cushion. He had a point. It would be easier for her to read everyone and be done with it, but they’d never trust her again. And that reminded her too much of Tamburah. The last thing she ever wanted was to be like him.

While waiting for her volunteer, Shyla spent the time reading over the scroll of maddeningly vague instructions about using The Eyes. She’d learned she could push her power through her hands, but nothing in the text suggested that was possible. Unless the linking and creating a connection passage referred to that skill. What if she pushed her power while making a mark? It couldn’t hurt to try.

Shyla retrieved her chalk from her pack. Feeling a little silly, she rubbed the chalk over the rough stone, writing her name on the wall of her room while adding magic through her fingertips.

“Are you afraid someone is going to take your room?” Gurice asked with amusement. She stood in the doorway with Mojag pressed against her.

The two of them together didn’t bode well. “I’m experimenting.” Shyla used a corner of her sleeve to erase the letters, but a faint dusting of white remained. Hating to use water but unable to think of something else, she picked up her water skin and washed off the rest of the marks. Now she’d have to wait until it dried.

“Okay,” Gurice drawled as if humoring a crazy lady. “Does this have anything to do with opening a person’s magic?”

Shyla muttered a curse. “No one volunteered?”

“I did!” Mojag said, affronted. “Don’t know why you asked the others. Am I not good enough for you?”

Sigh. “Mojag, you’re too good for me. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re too important.”

“Too bad. I’m here.” He grabbed a handful of sand from the bucket. “And I want to make this sand fly.”

She met Gurice’s gaze.

“Our family line has magic so he would have been tested in the chamber,” Gurice said. “Some people change after being chained that long in the dark.”

“All right.” At least she could stop if he showed any signs of distress. “Sit down.”

He settled next to the bucket.

“Should I go?” Gurice asked.