Page 102 of Requiem of Silence

Whatever spell Murmur had created for these training exercises increased in difficulty. The wraiths became multicolored and her task was to only destroy the orange ones, while leaving theother colors alone. A deep sense of satisfaction went through her after she’d completed all the levels of the exercise for the tenth time.

Once she had returned, fresh off the knowledge of Mooriah’s revelation, she had progressed rapidly. It was like a cork had been unstoppered inside her. Precision and mastery of her Song seemed second nature and she reveled in it.

Time might as well not exist in this spirit realm, but her body needed food. She quieted her Song and exited the vision, then stood and stretched her aching muscles, which had been seated in the same position for days. She could not wait to tell the others about her progress—but no one was around.

She didn’t sense Murmur or the other Cavefolk, with whom she’d had virtually no contact since arriving. Shrugging, she decided to just go out and meet Darvyn. Mooriah would probably be out there with Tana.

However, when she reached Darvyn’s campsite, no Earthsong-created fire hovered over the ground. There was no sign of Darvyn or anyone else.

Fear vibrated through her with the force of an avalanche, but she forced a measure of calm and focused on her inner sight. She couldn’t find Darvyn that way, but she should be able to spot the others. If they were nearby, that is.

She slumped with relief when a handful of glowing figures revealed themselves. Only they appeared to be inside the mountain? They certainly hadn’t been in the tunnel, which was the only entrance to this isolated ledge.

Confused, she paced around the campsite until she noticed a small cleft in the rock where a handful of tough grass clung. Several stalks were snapped, hanging lazily. She grabbed hold of the edge of the crack and levered herself up. A path came into view,out of sight from ground level. It was just a short climb up the crack to reach it and jump down.

She followed the path around a curve and discovered another plateau, larger than the ledge and without any protection from the steep drop down. However, here is where Fenix had apparently made his camp. She hadn’t seen him for days but now Darvyn, Mooriah, Ella, and the girls were all with him—and all wore stricken expressions. Ulani crouched on the ground, clutching her puppy, Raven, to her.

“What’s happened?” Kyara asked, stumbling upon their party. Darvyn rushed over to her and wrapped an arm around her. She didn’t realize how truly exhausted she was until she leaned against him and had him bear some of her weight.

“The True Father has attacked again. This time he released wraiths on the city.” It took a moment for her mind to register his words.

Stunned faces, some tear-streaked, looked back at her. Fenix’s expression was solemn. “He has found a manner of controlling the dead that the Physicks have not,” Fenix said. “They have returned and now do his bidding.”

He waved a hand in the air and a shimmering portal opened before him. This one reflected an image, like a looking glass, of the city of Rosira. In the strange apparition, columns of black smoke poured from a hole in the sky. Spirits dove into the bodies of the living and transformed them, these hosts then attacked other citizens.

Kyara moved forward, toward the portal, awestruck by both the violence and the magic by which she was seeing it. She reached toward the golden ripple, but Darvyn held her back.

“You cannot touch this,” Fenix said. “It would kill you.”

Kyara swallowed as the horror played out in the image. “Is this happening now?”

“It is over. The wraiths retreated. This looks like yet another test.”

“We’re too late,” Mooriah said. She stood off to the side with her arms crossed, eyes vacant. Fenix crossed to her as if to comfort her, but she shook her head and stepped away.

His head dropped and he appeared dejected. “Your uncle certainly has not changed in all these years.”

Kyara was certain she felt a shift in the very fabric of reality. “The True Father is your uncle? That means your mother is…”

Mooriah looked over at her sadly. “My mother is the Goddess Awoken, yes. I was cut from Her womb while She slept. Not quite dead, but not alive, either. I never met Her, but that is why I have this power.” She fisted her hand and lashed out, hitting a nearby scrubby bush with enough Nethersong to erase it from existence completely. Outside of the heart of the Mother, the avatars were not visible, but the effects of the power were. Only a small pile of char remained.

Fenix raised a hand and the air around Mooriah began to shimmer with a gold tinge. “You don’t need to throw a shield around me,” she seethed. “I am not out of control.”

“What do you mean that is why you have this power?” Kyara asked.

“When a mother dies in childbirth, the child’s Song may turn. Being born of death creates a powerful connection.” Mooriah’s eyes were stormy. “Mine was not dead, but neither was she alive.”

Cold took over Kyara’s limbs. “I didn’t know that.”

“We should be there now. We should have been there to help them fight.”

“The attack has ended,” Fenix said. “You will be there the next time.”

Darvyn peered in the portal, watching the images unfold. “Jasminda and Oola were able to fight off some of it and then the wraiths just… left. The damage looks intense, but at least it’s done for now.”

Mooriah shook her head. “We must stop him before the dead take over the country and then this world.”

Kyara shivered. “And how, exactly, do we accomplish that? The simulations we’ve been training with are all well and good, but I’ve seen those things in action. They’re powerful, fast, ridiculously strong. How do we defeat them?”

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