Chapter 17

Julian stared into the unblinking eyes of his adversary. The paralysis held him rigid against the chair, every muscle locked by a psychic weight that felt like cold lead in his veins. The Weaver matriarch didn't move, her spindly, pale form draped in shadows that seemed to pulse with her presence. *You're untrained,* her voice rang in his skull, vibrating against his teeth. *But I sense your emotions. They bleed out of you like a ruptured vein. It is... messy. Amusing, but messy.* "You...