Page 1 of Requiem of Silence

PROLOGUE

In the end, there will be silence.

Nothing but the warm embrace of the Flame and then… peace. The old man knows this and has waited for longer than he ever thought possible. He will wait a bit longer, for while he is old now, he was also old centuries ago. He suspects he will be old for centuries more before he can finally meet the Flame and be done with it all.

But even death cannot come before duty, not for one of his line.

The prophecy that came to him generations ago has never left the forefront of his mind. It seeped in and spread like a dye, staining everything that it touched: the one who walks in darkness will embrace the Light.

He stands at the mouth of a cave of his beloved Mountain Mother, staring at the world outside that has claimed so many of his kind. The rays of the sun pepper fevered kisses on his face. Aharsh kind of love. He cannot become used to it. Outside is not for him.

Soon a visitor will arrive, one he has been expecting for a long time.

He thinks perhaps this visitor is the key to the prophecy. Darkness and Light rolled into one. He waits, and when the visitor arrives, the young man is haggard, but bears it well. His eyes are alight with charm and mischief.

The prophet has a moment of misgiving; however, this does not stop him from leading the visitor up a barely used trail, to a cave on the outskirts of the city where they won’t be disturbed.

There he makes the greatest mistake of his life. There he teaches the visitor something that no Outsider should know. Even one with familiar skin.

Perhaps it was the prophecy that duped him. Or the fact that the visitor is only a generation removed from those who left the caves to live outside.

Had this seeker’s fore-parent not left, he would have already known this secret. Could have known it, at least.

No matter now, the deed is done. The knowledge passed from prophet to man.

As the visitor’s head bobs away down the narrow path, the prophet has another shudder of misgiving.

But surely the Mother would not have allowed him to do something that would harm his people. All he ever wanted to do was save them.

He watches the visitor’s retreat and hopes that teaching him the Cavefolk secrets was the right decision.

He will ask the Mother about it soon.

CHAPTER ONE

Where does solace hide when discord

warbles its tumultuous strains?

In silence or in sound, Harmony is found.

—THE HARMONY OF BEING

Queen Jasminda ul-Sarifor Alliaseen held a maelstrom of Earthsong within her. She found herself connecting to the stream of energy in times of distress, without any real intention of doing something with the power, but holding it inside herself brought comfort. She was on alert at all times now. She’d already been assassinated once, after all.

The current cause of her anguish was not the terrorists who’d taken her life mere weeks ago, nor the ongoing strife between Elsiran citizen and Lagrimari refugee playing itself out in the streets. These were on her mind at all times, but at this precise moment, itwas the undervalets scurrying in and out of the royal suite who had her on edge. Usher, the king’s valet and longtime friend, directed them as they brought in piles of clothing and shoes for inspection.

“No,” the man said, shaking his gray head. “Not those—in fact, send those to the Sisterhood for charity distribution. He’s nearly worn the soles off them.”

The servant nodded and rushed off.

“That trunk is full, young man,” Usher said kindly to another. “No use overstuffing, just place those vests in the other one.”

Jasminda swallowed, taking in the organized chaos, a pulse of life energy rushing through her veins. “Is he going away for a fortnight or a year?” she muttered.

Usher led her out of the path of the servants, saving her from a collision with a young woman carrying a stack of shirt boxes that nearly reached her eyes. “His Majesty will require options. Prime Minister Buchanan has not provided us with an itinerary, so we don’t know how many formal and informal dinners there will be, whether he’s organizing a hunting carnival, wilderness explorations, or other entertainments. We must be ready for anything.”

“Huntingcarnival?”

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