Page 121 of Requiem of Silence

The still body transformed, taking on her father’s face and form before rising. She was too far away to see his expression. She considered turning around, escaping down the hall in the opposite direction, but she was no coward. Her emotions were quiet now, and she supposed she owed him an apology for her outburst. Still, she remained motionless until he took a step toward her. Then they both moved forward, stopping an arm’s length apart.

“Father.” She cleared her throat. “I apologize. That was not well done of me.”

He grunted. She supposed that was all the acknowledgement she would get. “Why did you not go into the Flame, my daughter?” His voice was both familiar and strange.

She swallowed, tucking away her disappointment. This was the first thing he wanted to know? “I had no desire to have my soul stripped clean, to be recycled into some other life. I had a reason to retain my memories. The prophecy—Murmur never came out and told me that I should avoid the Flame, but he’d hinted that I would be needed again. And he was right.”

In the World After, spirits were meant to join the Eternal Flame. They could stay out of it for a time, getting glimpses into the Living World and saying their silent good-byes to their loved ones and the lives they’d once had, but the Flame was a constant lure.

Resisting it had been difficult, often painful, but she’d had a purpose. And she’d carried it out.

Yllis sighed deeply. “I suppose it only makes sense that our family be here to see this through, we did start it after all.”

Mooriah didn’t start anything—she had not asked to be born a Nethersinger—but she kept that thought to herself. Instead she said, “Have you seen Her?”

A well of pain opened inside his eyes. “No,” he whispered.

“She must know we’re both here.”

“She knows. She has Her own reasons for ignoring us.”

After all the time her father had spent searching for her mother, now they were finally in the same place and it was Oola who’d disappeared. “You must have some idea where She is.”

He blinked slowly before meeting her gaze. He did not voice his agreement, but she saw the truth there.

“So you are avoiding Her, too?” Mooriah shook her head. “It’s time. I need to meet Her.”

She thought he might deny her, but instead, he surprised her by reaching for her hand. He had never been demonstrative, never been the type of father who hugged or kissed. The rough feel of his palm was novel, callused and scarred from many blood spells. Hers were the same.

Hand in hand, father and daughter left the building. There might have been a hundred eyes on them but Mooriah didn’t notice. They crossed a garden, the dying grass crisp beneath their feet. Behind the palace rose a rocky ridge, the peak of the ancient volcano on which Rosira had been built.

“How do you know where She is?” she asked.

“I can feel Her. I’ve always been able to, we are connected.”

Her shoulders sank. She’d never had reason to hate her Nethersong the way others had, but there were times like these when she wondered what Earthsong would be like.

Yllis squeezed her hand. “It isn’t Earthsong that binds us, it issomething deeper. If you search yourself, you’ll realize that you can feel Her, too. She’s inside of us.”

Mooriah wasn’t convinced. They climbed the rocks, which only rose a short distance above their heads. There was no true path, but she did sense something familiar in the route they took. The sensation pulsed within, though she’d never been here before.

They turned a corner and could go no farther. Before them, seated upon a boulder, looking out toward the sea, was her mother, the Goddess Awoken.

Oola rose slowly, so slowly, and turned to face them. Her face was expressionless. Dark eyes glimmered and Her white dress fluttered in a gust of wind. The shapes of their faces were similar. Mooriah saw pieces of herself in her mother, but the woman was a stranger.

No one spoke for a long time. Mooriah could not think of what to say, she just stared at this cold woman before her. Oola’s gaze went from Mooriah to Yllis, back and forth until, finally, tears spilled down Her cheeks. The sudden and unexpected display of emotion caused the dam inside of Mooriah to crack. Her feelings broke through the protective barrier she’d had in place for so long and her body doubled over on a sob.

She tried in vain to hold it back, shaking and heaving, clutching her arms around her. Her father’s hand rubbed her back for a moment and then she was wrapped in warmth. Strong arms squeezed her and the scent of jasmine and electricity enveloped her.

“Don’t cry, my daughter,” her mother whispered. “There will be time for crying later.”

Mooriah wasn’t sure that was true. Her heart was so full and so empty at the same time. She couldn’t put into words what shewas feeling. Duty and love and pain and abandonment warred inside of her.

Her mother pulled back and cupped Mooriah’s cheeks in Her palms. Her father’s steady hand still ran slow circles on her back.

“Mama,” Mooriah whispered. And then her mother smiled.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

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