“Is that wrong?” she asked, not liking the worry etched between his brows.

  “I have no idea.” His eyes narrowed like he was trying to see inside her head.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Are you blocking me?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  “I don’t even know what that is.” She stepped away, wishing the extra space could stop him from reading her private thoughts.

  “It’s a way to keep Telepaths out. Kind of like putting a wall around your mind.”

  “Is that why I can’t hear you?”

  “Maybe. Can you tell me what I’m thinking right now?”

  “I told you, I don’t hear your thoughts the way I do with other people.”

  “That’s because humans have weak minds—but that’s not what I meant. If you listen, can you hear me?”

  “I . . . don’t know. I’ve never tried to read a mind before.”

  “You just have to trust your instincts. Concentrate. You’ll know what to do. Try.”

  She hated being bossed around—especially since he wasn’t answering her questions. Then again, what he wanted her to do might be the only way to find out why he looked so concerned. She just had to figure out what he meant by “listen.”

  She didn’t have to tell her ears to hear—they just did. But listening took action. She had to concentrate. Maybe mind reading worked the same way—like an extra sense.

  She focused on his forehead, imagining that she was stretching out her consciousness like a mental shadow, feeling for his thoughts. After a second Fitz’s voice swept through her head. It wasn’t sharp or loud like human thoughts, more of a soft whisper brushing across her brain.

  “You’ve never felt a mind as quiet as mine?” she blurted.

  “You heard me?” He looked pale.

  “Was I not supposed to?”

  “No one else can.”

  She needed a few seconds to process that. “And you can’t read my mind?”

  He shook his head. “Not even when I try my hardest.”

  A whole new world of worries pressed down on her shoulders. She didn’t want to be different from the other elves. “Why?”

  “I have no idea. But when you pair it with your eyes, and where you live—” He stopped, like he was afraid he’d said too much, then fumbled with the crystal on his pathfinder. “I need to ask my dad.”

  “Wait—you can’t leave now.” Not when she had more questions than answers.

  “I have to. I’ve already been gone too long—and you need to get home.”

  She knew he was right. She didn’t want to get in trouble. But her knees still shook as he held the crystal to the sunlight. He was her only link to the amazing world she’d seen—the only proof that she hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

  “Will I ever see you again?” she whispered.

  “Of course. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “How will I find you?”

  He flashed a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”