Page 108 of Requiem of Silence

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” the king began. He had a nice voice, authoritative without being condescending. She was glad he and Darvyn were friends. “The situation we face is urgent. The True Father could attack again at any time. Many of you will know Darvyn ol-Tahlyro, also known as the Shadowfox.” He swept an arm toward Darvyn. “He was a rebel leader in Lagrimar fighting against the True Father.”

The king paused, waiting for the queen to translate his words into Elsiran. “I’m certain that Kyara ul-Lagrimar is not unknown to most of you, either. If you are not aware, she saved the life of my wife, who was poisoned by terrorists. The method by which she was able to save Queen Jasminda is of particular interest to us, and is part of the reason for this meeting.

“And this is Mooriah ul-Sarifor. She is a… relative of the Goddess Awoken.” He sounded unsure and Kyara wasn’t certain exactly how much of Mooriah’s heritage Darvyn had shared. Whispers went up throughout the audience as others questioned the presence of these three Lagrimari.

“Kyara?” Queen Jasminda turned to her. “The floor is yours.”

Kyara swallowed and stepped forward, wiping her palms on her trousers. She’d never been called to speak in public before. Didn’t like all the attention on her, especially from so many people who had so recently wanted her dead. She cleared her throat.

“What happened here yesterday, the wraiths…” She looked to Darvyn for reassurance. His expression was grave, but he nodded. “We have faced them before. Darvyn, Roshon, and I were there when they were first unleashed. You have already discovered that they are very difficult to defeat. Nearly impossible, in fact.

“The only way to banish them,” Kyara continued, “is using Nethersong.”

“Nethersong?” one of the black-suited Elsirans asked. “What in Sovereign’s name is that?”

“Just as Earthsong is life energy, Nethersong is death energy. There are very few people alive who can wield it. Only three.” She shot a glance at Mooriah. “Well, two and a half,” she muttered under her breath.

The Elsirans whispered among themselves for a moment. A long-limbed man, younger than the others, with a dark red goatee spoke up. “So you are saying that three Nethersingers are all that stand between the wraiths and us? What can you even do against them with this death energy?” Queen Jasminda’s translation did a good job of mimicking his derisive tone.

“Allow us to demonstrate,” Kyara replied.

“Wouldn’t you need a spirit in order to do that?” Roshon asked.

“Yes.” She held his gaze. His brow descended in worry. “Everyone, please remain calm.”

She took a deep breath and turned to Mooriah, who stood placidly as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Kyara closed her eyes and drew on the knowledge she’d discovered on that mountain plateau. Sinking into her other sight, she reached for the Nethersong filling Mooriah’s body. Here she was able to distinguish it from the Nether of the host’s body—of Ydaris. Diving even further, she sensed the snarl of energies from the amalgamation magic that had been used to bring the spirits into the Living World. Mooriah had snuck in somehow on the residue of this magic and it clung to her.

There was something like a thread that would untangle the mess and release the spirit. She did as she’d practiced, pulling on this thread of Nethersong that bound Mooriah’s spirit until it came loose easily.

She returned to her normal sight in time to witness Ydaris’s form crumple to the floor as the inky, diaphanous substance of Mooriah’s spirit floated to hover near the ceiling.

Screams filled the room. Some folk dived under the tables and covered their eyes. Kyara had anticipated the response but still it rankled. She knew the fear wasn’t of her precisely—this time Mooriah was to blame, but she was still tired of it. Frightened people screaming at her was the soundtrack of her life.

Queen Jasminda threw up her hands and darkness filled the room. The yelling faded away. “Please control yourselves,” she said slowly. “We would not have brought you here to harm you.”

When the light returned, the Elsirans who had taken cover—notably not the relatively youngish man who’d questioned her—took their seats again. Soon, everyone’s gaze was locked on Mooriah’s spirit form, still suspended over Kyara’s head.

On the ground Ydaris moaned. Kyara’s other sight revealedthat Void energy was quickly filling her. She was still alive, after several weeks’ possession, but without an infusion of Earthsong she would not be so for long.

Queen Jasminda called out to the guards at the door. “Have them bring in the prisoner.” Moments later, a shackled Elsiran woman was brought in. She was older and gray-haired, save for hints of red still staining her temples. Her posture was erect, proud, heedless of the chains on her wrists and ankles. Ella gasped, apparently recognizing the woman.

The prisoner stood, surveying the people staring at her and then Mooriah plunged into her. In seconds, the body transformed, shrinking down and darkening until Mooriah once again stood before them, nearly swimming in the taller woman’s dress—standard-issue prison garb.

After the uproar of the first demonstration, the response this time was slightly more subdued. People wheezed and sputtered. Many of the Elsirans slapped their palms to their chests and tapped three times, some sort of sign to ward off evil, no doubt.

Mooriah shook off her handcuffs and kicked away the leg irons as if they were nothing. She surreptitiously wiped away a bead of blood on her finger on the skirt of her dress. Darvyn kneeled beside Ydaris’s body, infusing her with Earthsong. Kyara nearly told him not to bother, but that wasn’t exactly in line with her new vow not to kill. The old crone was breathing heavily, but had not been harmed.

The little Raunian king pinned Kyara with a shrewd, intelligent gaze. “Expel her spirit again, but this time, have her try to enter me.”

Her advisors protested, some loudly, but the king silenced them with a raised hand. Kyara looked to Queen Jasminda. Elsiraalready had enough problems with Raun without adding spirit possession of their king to it, but the queen nodded.

Mooriah just shrugged and so Kyara sank into her other sight and banished the spirit once again from the prisoner’s body. However, this time, when the black column lunged for King Pia, it stopped a breath from her skin as if it had hit an invisible wall. Mooriah tried again and again, but could not penetrate the small woman. She returned to the body she had just abandoned and transformed into herself again.

“Hmm,” was all King Pia said. But a rotund Elsiran man stood, huffing with anger.

“Raunians must be involved in this dark magic. Why else would it not affect them?”

Lizvette turned to face the man, obviously affronted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Minister. In Yaly, I learned that amalgamations cannot affect those who have had contact with selakki oil, something quite common in Raun. Those creatures were brought here with amalgam magic, that’s why the Raunians are immune.”

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