"No," Arik said, his tone firm enough that even Severin straightened.
"Please?" Liam tried, knowing well enough that Arik would refuse.
They hadn't found much from Goliath's memories, and that frustrated Liam more than he himself accepted.
Fragments had surfaced.
The cold of the sanctuary floor. Cassian's hand closing around Goliath's shoulder before the final threshold. The intention to measure the passage. A sensation of pressure when the Core first opened beneath him.
Then nothing.
Every attempt to push farther encountered the same smooth absence.
No explanation for how Goliath had entered as a powerful but otherwise mortal twenty-one-year-old and emerged three days later with golden eyes, altered channels, and ether behaving as though obedience had become instinctive.
Liam hated incomplete data.
He hated it considerably more when Felix's palace sat within the same city, apparently containing answers he was forbidden to approach.
