Page 24 of Mindeater

Saren frowned at the minuscule paragraph. Surely, there had to be more information. He kept reading, but it quickly shifted to deadly plants, mutated beasts, and other known contagions that led to death.

He shut the book and returned it to the shelf, then grabbed another titled The First Seer: History of the Telex.

As he skimmed through it, another word ensnared him.

Other.

The First Seer had a counterpart.

Worshipped as a deity, the first seer replaced the human God almost as soon as End Days befell Earth. According to this book, another family birthed a child the same day and time as the first seer. Because the families were close, signs from an early age showed that this other child was a problem. He was shunned and cast out. The child had deformities, no telepathic abilities, and acted as a suppressant whenever he was around the first seer. Saren poured over the text, wholly invested. No one had ever mentioned this. According to the book, the other child died at age seven. The first seer grew more powerful by the day and eventually, she became a woman, and her firstborn possessed her ability.

She lived almost six hundred years ago, before End Days, before the Telex became their own race.

The numbers didn’t add up.

Saren quickly did the math, approximating how many children could’ve been born from her direct bloodline over the centuries, and it still didn’t account for how many Telex were alive.

All the current information suggested Telex existed well before End Days. He needed more evidence. Maybe the author of this book got their dates wrong? Instead of answering his many questions, the story trailed off into her accomplishments, actively contradicting itself by mentioning things like the first community—first council.

Confusion ate at Saren. The more he read, the further from the truth he felt. It felt too much like fabrication.

Like lies.

He couldn’t stomach the thought that Ryx might be right.

What if he was right? What then? He closed the book hard, then covered his tracks. Alone with his thoughts, he placed the key ring back under Patryn’s pillow and sat on his bed, waiting for Ryx to come home.

***

Ryx returned later than he'd expected, accompanied by Patryn. He perked up at the sight of his guardian, but his eyes quickly latched onto Ryx. The boy didn’t even acknowledge him, moving quickly to his dresser and grabbing clean clothes. He didn’t look dirty, at least not to Saren.

Saren looked back to Patryn for answers and opened his mouth to speak, but Patryn shook his head in warning. Ryx hurried back out of the room. Once the bathroom door shut, Patryn approached his desk.

“What’s wrong?” Saren asked carefully.

His guardian’s violet eyes seemed dimmer, fine lines gathering at the corners, and his lips thin with stress. “I’m doing everything in my power to keep the boy’s identity a secret, but it’s proving difficult. An envoy from Ivory Hill is expected this week, and with it more rebels. An Other is said to be among them.”

“Oh,” he whispered, holding one of his journals tight.

“I’m not confident Ryx has been completely honest with me, and if this rebel can sense their own…we will have a problem.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to declare that Ryx wasn’t a liar, but he’d accused the boy of such things mere hours ago. Instead, he swallowed the loyalty for his friend and placed his trust in his guardian. “Should we stay inside?”

Patryn nodded. “Do not leave the room once they arrive.”

“Yes, sir.” Patryn motioned to leave, but Saren shot to his feet. “Wait, Patryn—”

“I have things that need my attention, Saren.”

“It’ll just take a moment,” he begged. While the older alpha waited, Saren gathered up his courage to ask the question that’d been chewing at his mind for months. “How hasn’t the council found him? His lack of mastery is easy to detect. Any supreme should sense it.”

Patryn stared at him for a long time. Finally, he spoke through gritted teeth, “We never removed the countermand implant.”

Saren’s eyes rounded. “W-what?”

“It was safer to alter it and keep it in place.”

Something like betrayal settled heavily in his chest. “You…lied?”