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Her ancestor?

Agam?

She’d been trying to learn anything and everything she could about him, but it was difficult. Even with Ibai gifting her Agam’s book, The Many Mysteries of Mutation, she hadn’t made much progress. That thing’s text was about as elucidating as a brick wall.

Or maybe she simply needed to open her mind a bit more. Being so rigid in her thinking wasn’t going to help her in the long run, even if it did have its benefits, in some ways.

She blinked.

Again, that didn’t seem like a thought that had originated with her.

Phew. She felt so strange, right now. Was Agam still alive in her mind? Or... did she simply possess knowledge from him?

She waited, but this time, no answer arose. Perhaps there was none to be found.

What she did know of Agam, at least, was that he was a brilliant mutator. It seemed to her that he could’ve been capable of some truly unprecedented things--things that she, inexperienced as she still was, couldn’t even imagine.

Maybe even some things that Gohvis didn’t know about.

What other explanation could there be for him wanting to study the anomalous link between them? If this link was somehow Agam’s doing, and Gohvis didn’t already understand it, then wasn’t that the logical conclusion?

Gohvis was trying to learn about Agam, too. Or about something he accomplished. Perhaps some sort of work or research that he left behind.

Careful, she told herself. Reading too much into Gohvis’ intentions was danger, she felt.

He was more volatile than he seemed. More emotional. More vulnerable.

More deadly.

Emiliana frowned. She didn’t need more reasons to fear Gohvis. Lakefire, she already felt like he might suddenly appear whenever her mind wandered to him, as if the very thoughts themselves could summon him.

But she wanted to stay on task here. Agam or not, the only thing that mattered at the moment was this mutation. If he was there with her, then he should focus on helping her, not distracting her.

Hmm.

She felt good for a change. In control of something for once. Even if it was only an illusion.

This birch tree. Her hand hadn’t left its bark. It was a fine thing. But it could be better. A proper conduction point. A true inheritance.

What?

Madega trees filled her mind. Images and memories. A sea. An ocean, even. Too grand, too vast, too much to perceive at once. But the feelings were there. Washing over her.