(Continued)
I watch the potential threads light up as they stretch between us, one beginning to solidify as she raises her hands. I reach out to touch it, to sense what this binding would yield, just as Taros steps in front of me. The threads unravel and fade. What a pity.
“That’s enough!” he yells, forearms thrown wide, palms raised at each of us, though he looks pointedly at me. His lower set remain clenched at his sides, creating an arcing line of tension through his frame.
“Come on! It was just gettin’ interestin’!” Callista calls from where he’s reclining in an ornate chair, one he has obviously conjured at some point for his own comfort and grandeur. His feet are propped up on the table, eyes bouncing avidly between Acara and I.
