The silence of her request was broken by a knock on the closed door. “Come in, Wesley,” Aern said, not moving to greet the boy, but looking up to gesture him on.
He was a bit timid, but out of breath, as if he’d run the entire way to the office suites only to lose his nerve once he’d seen them all together. Arguing.
“Everything is well, Wes,” Aern promised. “It’s only that we wanted you here for your expertise.”
He’d apparently been catching up on his rest as Aern had suggested, because instead of his usual Council-appropriate attire, he was sporting sleep-tousled hair, worn-out jeans, and a faded tee shirt that displayed a similarly-coiffed Muppet playing guitar.
At his bewildered expression, Brianna motioned toward a chair. “Aern explained to me what you saw pass between me and the shadow.” He slid into the seat she’d indicated, face reddening. “We thought you might be able to help us,” she began. “To use your talent to explore Aern’s power, to learn as much as we can about how it works and what this shadow is planning.”
Wesley’s expression cleared. “Of course. Anything you need.”
Emily pulled up a chair beside him. “And the bond. We want to understand why Aern doesn’t take anything from me, but this shadow can somehow pull power from Brianna.”
“It isn’t like your bond at all,” Wesley said, glancing between Emily and Brianna. “He’s stealing it from her, like a leech.”
The corner of Emily’s mouth tightened, something very near a self-righteous smirk. “Right,” she said. “Like that.”
At her encouragement, Wesley added, “Actually, Aern doesn’t need to take anything from you personally, because the connection is supplying it. Like a generator. It kind of converts into energy.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open, all trace of smugness vanished. But apparently Aern couldn’t enjoy it, because he was too distracted himself. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah,” Wesley said. “I didn’t feel it at first, because it’s not like the other powers. You’re not pushing it at anyone, not throwing the pulse outward. But I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and when you came back from the yard, and you were all…”—he gestured helplessly toward Aern’s clean skin, shrugged—“fixed, well, then I started to look closer, to search your own energy, and it made sense.”
The room was once again frozen in stunned silence, this time staring at the young, red-headed savant, who at the moment appeared to belong more in a garage band than a clandestine organization fighting to restore the fate of the world.
“Wes,” Brianna whispered after a moment, “are you saying Emily and Aern are creating energy?”
“Not from nothing. It’s already…” His hands went up, swirling through the air in another helpless gesture. “Around.”
“So instead of sending the pulses out,” Logan said, “they’re drawing this somehow in and converting it to energy?”
Wesley nodded. “Or using it. Sometimes it runs back through them, like it’s strengthening their connections.” He glanced at Emily, suddenly sheepish at admitting he’d studied her links. She didn’t notice, simply barked out a laugh and threw her arms around him in a too-brisk hug. Emily was not generally known around the Council properties as a hugger.
When she released her grip, Aern simply patted the wide-eyed boy on the shoulder. “Thank you, Wes. I can’t tell you how much help you’ve been.”
It was coming together, the shadow’s ability to draw from Brianna, the way Wesley had seen it reach out, searching. The bond had given Aern and Emily an advantage, creating power where the shadow had apparently resorted to stealing it.
Aern glanced absently at Logan as he voiced his concern to the room. “The question remains, why hasn’t Brianna created a bond?” Brianna was certain he’d simply been thinking aloud, but she could see in his reaction that Aern had felt something from Logan. His lifelong friend hadn’t moved, there was no outward sign of pain or agitation in his body or expression, but clearly Aern could feel the emotion, and it was like a punch in the gut. Logan hadn’t been able to protect her, couldn’t save her from the threat, and now this shadow was trying to bind her to him. He must have been a wreck.
Aern ran a palm over his chest, and Brianna glanced up at Logan, taking his hand in hers. “Maybe I can’t create a bond. Maybe he’s wrong.”
Wesley held up a finger hesitantly. When it garnered everyone’s attention, he drew it back, as if he wanted to change his mind. “Actually,” he said, “I’d need to be closer to be sure, but I think there already is…”—his gaze swept the audience, stopping on Brianna—“some sort of link there.”
Brianna felt sick, her hand dropping from Logan’s to press against her stomach.
Wesley leaned forward as if he might reach out to her, but his own hands remained in his lap, twining together anxiously. “Not a bond,” he assured her. “Nothing so strong.”