Page 112 of Requiem of Silence

evenly.

Their sturdy feet well-grounded,

flat and strong.

Like roots, they plant themselves and face the

consequence

of being what keeps its restless form

held down.

—THE HARMONY OF BEING

Darvyn stared out of the window of the town car up at the majestic house they’d pulled in front of. Heavy clouds had gathered overhead promising rain. The temperature was cold enough that it might even be snow.

“Are you certain this is the place?” he asked his driver, Erryl.

“Yes.” The man punctuated the statement with a big nod. “Got the info off a new palace maid whose brother is a Keeper. The Keepers have taken over this house all right, unlikely as it seems.”

While apparently in Elsira this was just a mere house, to Darvyn it was a mansion. Pale stucco the color of sandstone was topped with a dark, clay-tiled roof. The home had no front yard to speak of, just a strip of grass with large, verdant shrubbery separating the building from the iron fence protecting it from the street.

With his Song, he sensed the property’s inhabitants. Nearly two dozen were inside the house, along with a handful of guards hidden along the perimeter. He wiped a hand down his face and turned to Zeli. “Are you ready?”

She nodded resolutely. The girl had changed from the frightened mouse he’d first met weeks ago, bathing in the pride of serving Oola. Now she was stoic as a hardened soldier. Serious and driven, but without losing the innocence of youth or the spark of optimism that had also marked her.

Darvyn could not imagine what it must be like to lose your Song, and then to have it restored again… He deeply admired the young woman’s strength and fortitude. They exited the vehicle and stood on the narrow walkway.

“What did it feel like?” he asked. She turned to him, expression open and questioning. “Giving up your fear.”

She appeared pensive as she searched for the right words. “Like setting down a satchel filled with rocks that I’d carried my whole life. It’s not permanent, Gilmer said it will come back, but now I will know how to deal with it better.”

Darvyn nodded, envying her suddenly. “All right, you asked for help in using your Song. Tell me, how many people do you sense inside the building?”

She closed her eyes, concentrating. “Twenty, I think.”

“Twenty-two,” he said. “There are two elderly people on the main level. Their Earthsong is reduced due to their age.”

She scrunched her eyes shut and nodded. “Yes, I can feel that.”

“The ability to know what you’re facing is important. But don’t rely only on Earthsong. Use it in combination with your other senses.” He took a deep breath and exited the vehicle, waiting for her.

Rozyl had requested Darvyn come to speak to the Keepers. At first he’d balked. Given his history with the group, he wasn’t certain he was the right person. But Rozyl had said that she was having a tough time persuading them to help convince their Singers to man the emergency shelters. Most Keepers still held the Shadowfox in high esteem and his word would go far. They also did not believe that Songs could be restored, and Zeli had volunteered to accompany him and prove it.

“Do you know how to open locks?” he asked, trying to extend the teachable moment as well as offset his own discomfort. Zeli shook her head, but appeared eager.

“Heat can melt the lock. That’s the method I prefer. Though you can also manipulate the air to turn the latch, depending on the type of locking mechanism. I suppose you could freeze the metal and break it off, too. There are options.” He shrugged.

“Or you could just ring the bell,” a voice said from the other side of the fence, its owner hidden by a prickly bush.

Turwig appeared, his grandfatherly quality making Darvyn homesick for a moment. Though he’d grown up on the run and never had a permanent place to call home, the old man was the closest thing he had to a father.

“Darvyn,” Turwig said, inclining his head.

“This is Zeli,” Darvyn said, motioning to the young woman beside him. The old man’s eyes brightened, but Darvyn noted hehadn’t yet opened the gate. “I’m here to speak with you and the other elders about our strategy for the next attack.”

Turwig nodded and stepped backward. Darvyn used Earthsong to push open the gate, a waste of power really, but he rationalized that it would be instructive for Zeli.

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