Requiem of Silence Page 7
“I’d expected the Shadowfox,” the driver said as Kyara settled into the backseat of the town car idling in the driveway. He was an older Lagrimari man and almost entirely bald, except for a few stubborn patches of white clinging to the sides of his head.
“Sorry to disappoint,” she said, shutting the heavy door. Nerves racked her as he turned in his seat to study her. She tensed, waiting for a gasp of shock or horror, but he didn’t seem to recognize her.
“Not disappointed. You’re a sight more pleasant to look at.” His grin was gap-toothed as he turned back around to put the car in gear. “Erryl’s the name,” he said as they pulled onto the dirt road.
“Kyara. Thank you for the ride.”
“It’s my job.”
“You’re a settler?”
“Aye. Been here since the Sixth Breach. Learned to drive from some Sisters a while back and helped with their deliveries. It’s peaceful work.”
The ride was serene, and Erryl remained quiet as they headed toward the city. The sun had dipped below the horizon and dusk painted the surroundings with a glowering pall. The winding road bordered the ocean on one side with a seemingly endless stretch of browning grass on the other. As they crossed into the city proper, a fenced-in field full of flickering light stole her attention. She leaned forward for a better view. It had been nighttime when she’d left Rosira, so she hadn’t noticed whatever this was the last time she’d been on this road.
Fragments of glass stuck out from the ground at even intervals—mirrors. Rows and rows of mirrors, some big and some small, extending far into the distance.
“What is that?” she whispered in confusion.
Erryl looked over at what had her captivated. “Cemetery. Elsirans bury their dead and mark the grave with a mirror over the head of the deceased.”
“Why would they do such a thing?”
He chuckled. “They believe their loved ones can use the mirrors to view the Living World. They want to give them something to look at before they join the Eternal Flame.”
It was bizarre, as many of these Elsiran practices were, Kyara was finding. But the automobile zipped past the cemetery and into the outskirts of the city. The colorful houses they passed seemed to mock her with their gaiety and beauty. Rosira was a nearly picture-perfect city, at least for its citizens. Anyone not like them, whether they looked different, spoke a different language, or possessed magic, had been unwelcome in this land for a long time.
Erryl pulled to a stop in the middle of a row of tall, narrow houses, their stucco exteriors painted in bright colors. The greens and yellows and oranges of the buildings made the quiet, well-kept street feel very homey. It reminded her of the Windy Hill neighborhood back in Sayya, though far more beautiful.
“This is the address?” she asked, staring out the window.
He turned back to her again, brows raised. “It’s what you gave the dispatch. Is it not what you expected?”
“I don’t know quite what I was expecting.” A refugee camp, she’d supposed. What sort of Lagrimari child would live here?
“Do you want me to wait?” Erryl asked.
She was about to refuse, but then thought better of it. “Yes, if you don’t mind. I don’t know if this will take long or not.”
“Not a problem. I’ll be right here.”
She exited the car, still gaping up at the house. The street number Mooriah had given her belonged to a pale green house with flower boxes under the window—empty now since the weather had turned. As she approached, the front door opened and two constables exited.
They stood on the front stoop replacing their billed caps atop their heads. A sandy-haired woman appeared in the doorway, eyes red and face tear-streaked. She dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief as she spoke to the men. Kyara wished she understood the Elsiran words, but whatever was said did little to comfort the woman. A crime must have taken place here, perhaps a robbery? They must not be uncommon in such a nice neighborhood.
The men ambled down the stairs, eyeing her suspiciously where she stood next to the town car. Kyara clenched her jaw until they passed. They piled into a boxy, wagon-like vehicle parked on the corner and drove away.
When she turned back to the house, the woman in the doorway was looking at her sadly. She raised a hand in greeting and Kyara, surprised at such a simple kindness from a stranger in obvious distress, did the same. Then a small Lagrimari girl appeared at the woman’s side. She, too, was crying and a pang hit Kyara’s heart.
The child’s gaze caught on Kyara, and her expression shifted. Her jaw dropped and she detached herself from the woman to dart out the door.
“It’s you!” the girl cried. Kyara took a step back, her legs hitting the car door. This child obviously knew the Poison Flame.
“Are you here to help us find my sister?” the girl asked, racing down the steps to her side. Confusion made Kyara’s skin tighten.
“Ulani!” the woman called, coming down after the girl. She was not Elsiran and she certainly wasn’t Lagrimari, yet she appeared to be caring for this child. She spoke in rapid Elsiran, in firm but even tones, before giving Kyara an apologetic look.
Ulani shook her head and grabbed Kyara’s hand with small fingers. The exchange was lost to Kyara, but the hand in hers shocked her so much she wasn’t sure how to react.
“What’s happened to your sister?” she finally asked.
“She got nabbed. By a lady.”
Kyara’s heart nearly stopped as a sense of dread overtook her. She did not believe in coincidences. “A lady? What did the lady look like?” She spoke around the sudden dryness in her mouth.
“Little and bald-headed. She wasn’t mean or angry. She felt like a thistle plant.” The girl tilted her head, thinking. “The kind with the pretty, purple flowers.”
“How so?”
“Prickly.”
A lump formed in Kyara’s throat. The description was somehow apt. “Was she wearing an ugly, black dress?”
The little girl stared up at her and nodded. Her eyes were slightly different colors, one lighter than the other, though it could have been a trick of the light. It was full dark now, gas lamps forming pools of illumination on the street.
“I know you,” Kyara said, suddenly remembering this girl and her odd eyes. “You hid under the table, while I…” Her mouth snapped shut. She had killed this girl’s father right in front of her.
She looked down at their clasped hands, then back up, incredulous. Ulani’s expression was solemn. “You saved us from the nabbers and were helping the Keepers. You’ll help find Tana.” The last wasn’t a question.
A ripple of shame moved through Kyara, throwing her off balance. The children in the warehouse—this girl and her sister had been among them. So strange to have encountered her twice before and now again. She swayed before righting herself again, something like fate settling across her shoulders.
Ulani spoke to the woman, whose expression changed from puzzlement to hope. She motioned for Kyara to follow her back into the house. With a tug on their joined hands, Ulani led the way.
Once inside, they entered a well-appointed sitting room just off the entry. Kyara perched on a couch next to the little girl, who had yet to release her, while the woman disappeared momentarily before returning with a loop of black wire that she put around her neck. When she next spoke, a tinny sound rang in her voice, but her words were in Lagrimari.
“This is an amalgam translator. They aren’t being made anymore, and aren’t even legal here, but I have a friend with connections who was able to get me a few. They don’t last particularly long, so I’ve only been using them in emergencies, but I think this counts as one.”
Kyara agreed.
“My name is Ella Farmafield. My daughter has told me who you are and that you saved her life. You have my gratitude.”
Daughter. That was good. There were many Lagrimari orphans needing families. Kyara tried to pull her hand from Ulani’s grip, but the child wouldn’t budge.
Ella looked at Ulani, who turned her head away, unchastened.
Kyara sighed. “In Lagrimar, I was known as the Poison Flame. I was an assassin for the True Father.” The woman’s eyes widened; her posture stiffened.
“I was controlled by a blood spell that forced me to follow directions or face … extreme pain.” She did not like to dwell on the spell or its consequences.
“You were nearly executed, but you saved the queen’s life, isn’t that right?” Ella’s voice came slowly as if she was remembering.
“That’s true.”
“And you are no longer practicing your former occupation?”
Kyara snorted. “No. I never will again.”
“Well, then. Ulani believes you can help us, and though she’s small, she can be quite wise. If you can help find my other daughter, then that is really all I care about.” Her spine straightened, and she looked Kyara in the eye. “You know who took Tana? Because the constables refuse to take the kidnapping of a Lagrimari girl seriously.” Bitterness tinged her voice.
“Yes. I think I do know who took her and where they’ve gone. Does Tana have a Song?”
“No.” Ella shook her head slowly. “She said she was born without one.”
Ulani shifted beside her. Ella’s eyes narrowed. “Uli?”
“Tana doesn’t have a Song like everyone else’s, but she has something.”
Kyara nodded. “Do things ever die around her? Turn black?”
The girl bit her lip and shrugged a shoulder. “Grass under her feet sometimes. Plants. She doesn’t do it on purpose though.” She shot a nervous glance at her mother, who frowned.
“And the woman you saw, did Tana look like she was going with her willingly?”
Ulani nodded. Ella blinked away tears furiously. “I thought she was happy here,” she whispered.
“It’s not that,” Kyara advised. “I don’t think that Tana was unhappy, just the opposite. I’m sure that she left to try and save you.”
Ella’s brow furrowed. She swiped at the falling tears, and Ulani launched across the room to plant herself on her mother’s lap, embracing her. “Save us from what?” Ella asked.
“Have you ever heard of Nethersong?”
“No, what is that?”
“Just as Earthsong is life energy, Nethersong is death energy. There are some of us, a very, very few, who are born with the ability to manipulate it. I am one. The woman who I believe took Tana is called Mooriah. She is another. Tana may be the only other Nethersinger alive. Our ability is dangerous, hard to control. Accidents happen. It is very easy to kill everyone you love without meaning to. How old is Tana?”
“Eleven.”
“When I was that age, I hurt people I loved, too, for the first time. I’m not sure if the power is dormant before then or if there’s some other reason, but Tana was probably scared. And Mooriah preyed on that fear and convinced her to go train to learn to control it. She will take her to the eastern mountains bordering Lagrimar.”
Ella mulled over her words. “But why so far away? What’s in the mountains?”
“The Cavefolk.”
Surprise made the woman’s breath hitch. “There are still Cavefolk around? I’d thought they died off centuries ago.”
“Almost all of them did. There are only a handful left. And deep in the mountain, they have protections against Nethersong. Mooriah says a Singer can train without fear of harming anyone there.”
Ella wrung her hands together and bit her lip. Ulani lifted her head from where it was buried in her mother’s neck. “Mama, we have to go and find her.”
“Well, yes, of course. Can you take me there? If she has to train, she shouldn’t do it alone.”
Kyara swallowed. “There’s another reason that Mooriah wants her to learn to use her power. A prophecy. A war coming where Nethersingers will be needed to fight.” Thoughts of the wraith attack in the palace made her shiver, but she squared her shoulders.
“I will go and find her. I don’t know that it’s safe for you to come. The Cavefolk are … unpredictable. Neither they nor Mooriah would hurt Tana—they need her. But they don’t need anyone else.” She hoped her meaning was clear without scaring them.
Ella closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her lips moved silently; she appeared to be whispering a prayer. Kyara remained quiet until she was done. “This morning, Saint Siruna sent me a sign,” the woman said, eyes still shut. “Remember the egg with the two yolks, uli?”
“It made you sad, Mama.”
“It did, because I wasn’t sure what it meant. Now I believe I do.” She opened her eyes and appeared resolved. All uncertainty banished.
“If she has to train, fine. If she’s needed for some grand purpose, all right. But she’s eleven, and she’s my daughter, and she’s not going through this alone. I’m going, too.” Her tone brooked no opposition. Kyara sat back, impressed. It must be nice to have such a mother.
“And me, too,” Ulani spoke up, jutting her little chin into the air.
“I’m sure that Grandmama would love a visit with you, since Papa is out of town,” Ella said softly.
Ulani shook her head stubbornly and crossed her arms. Ella met Kyara’s eyes with an exasperated gleam. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Ulani’s mulish expression didn’t change, and Kyara suppressed a smile. She didn’t expect the conversation to go extraordinarily well.
“We’ll have to find a way out east,” Kyara said.
“I will make some calls. I’m not sure we’ll be able to find transportation before morning though.” Ella’s voice was thick with worry.
“Mooriah will not hurt Tana,” Kyara reiterated. “And she is formidable. Nethersong is more powerful than you can imagine. I can’t conceive a scenario where the girl will come to any harm in her company.” She kept to herself the fact that the woman could no doubt kill anything around her for kilometers if she so chose. Ella might not find it a comfort.
No, Mooriah would not allow the child to be injured in any way, but stealing a little girl, no matter her reasons, was unforgivable. If the prophecy was coming to pass and Nethersingers were needed, would she truly force a child to fight? Given the ruthlessness of the Cavefolk, Kyara already knew the answer.
Manipulations and deceit were exactly why she’d refused the woman in the first place. Why she had no love for the Cavefolk. And now this.
Kyara wished she could ignore Tana’s plight and return to her cozy cottage by the sea, but how could she leave an eleven-year-old girl to deal with those vipers on her own? Mooriah had done her job well and pushed Kyara’s back against the wall very neatly. But Kyara had a lot of fight left in her and an aversion to being handled in such a way. She would not walk away, but she would not give in easily.
Mooriah would need to answer for what she had done.
CHAPTER NINE
A whole split into parts
does not corrupt, unless the
parts lose their integrity
and weaken once apart and
soon forget
their nature is not many
but one.
Complete.
—THE HARMONY OF BEING
Jasminda strode into her office, her evening gown billowing around her. She was pleased that everyone she’d gathered was already here. Nadette Gaviareel, the royal event planner, stood with perfect posture behind a straight-backed chair at the small, round conference table in the corner of the room. Next to her stood Camm, Ilysara, and Darvyn. Two Elsirans, two Lagrimari, and one half-breed, Jasminda thought to herself with a chuckle.
“Your Majesty.” Nadette gave an extremely proper curtsey. “The guests have already begun arriving to your brothers’ birthday party, and there are still some details that I would like to check on and make sure of.”
It was as polite a way of inquiring as to her reason for being here as any. Jasminda crossed the room and to
ok a seat at the table. The others did the same, except for the planner. “Your staff is impeccable, Nadette. I’m quite sure you’ve already checked everything twice. The twins will live if the ice is delivered late or the decorations droop. I need to talk to you about something very important.”
The woman raised her brows and sat, clasping her hands before her on the table. When they’d first met during the planning of the royal wedding, she and Nadette had butted heads, but Jasminda had come to respect the woman. Certainly she was a frivolous aristocrat, but she truly wanted the best for Elsira. She had recommended Camm for the assistant position, and that morning Camm had pointed out that Nadette held a degree in public relations from Adara University. Jasminda had requested the woman stop by her office before the party started, along with Darvyn and her two assistants.
“I’m putting together an … advisory board,” Jasminda began. “Tomorrow we will be announcing a public referendum on the subject of unification versus separation. The vote will be held in ten days. I want to create a media campaign to influence the results.”
Silence reigned as several pairs of eyes blinked owlishly.
Camm and Nadette shared a glance, but it was the assistant who spoke up. “Your Majesty, the palace must be seen as an impartial party during referendums.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Otherwise how would people have confidence that the results will be properly carried out?”
“There are few in the land who do not already know my position on the matter,” Jasminda replied. “The other side has been waging media warfare practically since the Mantle first came down. Unification needs a strong voice. I realize it can’t be mine, and in public I will do my best to appear objective. But you must understand that I, above all people, have a personal stake in the results of this vote. My family could be split down the middle if the Lagrimari are forced out into a separate territory. My very existence here could be questioned.”
Camm swallowed and nodded. Ilysara’s expression was grim.
“So why hold the vote in the first place?” Darvyn asked, leaning forward. “You are queen. Can’t you just…” He waved a hand in the air. “Make things happen?”