He hooked the backpack with one hand and set it by my leg.
Feeling him waiting, I realized that had been a courtesy of sorts, too.
Hesitating only another half-beat, I unzipped the main compartment of the backpack and groped inside, knocking my hand into water bottles before closing on something squishy in a plastic bag. I made an involuntary face.
“Food,” he said.
“Could you be more specific?” I sniffed the contents, grimaced. “Jeez Louise...”
Leaning over the space between us, he took the backpack from me.
“You are used to human food,” he said.
“Do you always have to eat something different?”
“Yes.” Pausing, he shrugged. “Well, no...sometimes.”
Remembering he’d tolerated human food for me on a number of occasions, I nodded, biting back my complaints. Following his lead, I unwrapped one end of what looked like a seaweed burrito and took an experimental bite. I gagged, then forced myself to chew. Even as hungry as I was, it tasted like moldy dirt.
He watched with impassive eyes, then surprised me by smiling.
“Good?” he said.
“No,” I blurted.
His smile became a suppressed laugh. “You’re doing it wrong, Allie.”#p#分页标题#e#
I let my hand with the green wrap sink to my lap. “Want to enlighten me? Or are you having too much fun smirking?”
His smile evaporated.
“That was a joke,” I said, feeling my face warm.
His eyes shifted away. “You should be able to feel your light without using the Barrier.” He cleared his throat. “Try with me. It’s easier with someone else.”
He held out a hand towards me.
I stared at it. “Explain more.”
“The sense of motion. Of light. Try to feel it.” His voice remained casual, but a faint tension grew audible as he offered his hand again.
Realizing I was in danger of causing another scene with us, I clasped his fingers. His were warmer than mine.
“Light has a component that is nearly physical,” he said. “It has dimension. It is subtle, but you should be attuned to me, so—”
“I think I get it.” My skin was starting to warm. I wanted my hand back, but I didn’t want to offend him.
“I feel different than you?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Other than skin?”
“Yes.” I gently dislodged my fingers. “I get it, Revik.”
He released me with a shrug. “Then eat.”
My hand continued to tingle after he let go. I lifted the wrap, tried to concentrate on that feeling of motion as I bit down, especially around my lips and tongue.
I was chewing for a few seconds before I could pay attention enough to notice it really did taste different. Well, not taste exactly—although a subtle array of textures lived under that bitter, damp smell. The real difference felt more like touch, but so infused with my other senses it blurred them together, making them hard to pick apart. Absorbing the plant’s light was like inhaling gentle breaths of deliciously scented air.
The feeling was nearly...sensual.
“Don’t go too far into it, Allie,” he warned.
I watched him relax as he chewed, like someone getting a massage. His pale eyes flickered to mine, as if he’d heard that, too.
“I had to learn to eat blind when young,” he said. “To blend with humans.” He swallowed what was in his mouth. “It is not uncommon for the Council to require service of seers born of certain castes. My parents were asked to give one of theirs...as an infiltrator.”
He returned my blank look, coloring slightly.
“Given my blood type,” he plowed on. “I was the logical choice. The food was of particular issue to me. I would fight them on it, which angered my father. He did not want me embarrassing him in front of the Council. I was already...” He paused, then shrugged again. “...It is complicated. I was not his blood child, and moreover, he did not favor me. Raising me was his duty. He was adamant that I do mine.”
I took another bite of the plant burrito, if only to keep my face from showing a reaction.
“That sucks,” I said, awkward.
We continued eating in silence. Finishing the wrap, I rolled the plastic into a ball and stuffed it back in the backpack, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting off the cap before I drank.
“There is more,” he commented. “If you are still hungry.”
Nodding, I finished the water and leaned back, sliding around to avoid sharp spots with my shoulder blades. I closed my eyes.
He cleared his throat. “You cannot sleep,” he said.
Realizing he was right, I felt my heart sink. Sleep sounded heavenly, even on condom-strewn dirt.
“We may as well talk,” he said.
Sighing, I sat up straighter. I stuck my arms back into the sleeves of my jacket.