Page 144 of Requiem of Silence

“He’s using our dead as well,” she whispered, aghast. “Taking fresh spirits, not just ones waiting in the World After.” For the True Father to control and manipulate their own dead—Kyara’s heart dropped like a stone.

Darvyn took her hand. Fear welled deep in his eyes, mirroring her own.

“It’s time to use the death stone,” Mooriah said. “We cannotfight them. We need—” Her voice cut off, strangled as her face screwed up tight with pain. She wrapped her arms around her middle and moaned.

“What’s happening?” Tana cried, reaching for the woman.

Kyara shook her head and used her other sight to find out. Mooriah’s raptor shuddered, changing into its tiny bird form before it faded away to nothing.

In Kyara’s normal vision, Mooriah’s body fell to the ground and transformed. The dark cloud of the woman’s spirit escaped with awhooshand appeared to shiver.

Neither Kyara nor Tana had expelled Mooriah—one of the wraiths must have done this. Kyara’s gaze darted to the amassing enemy, but each face was blank. She had no idea which one had targeted Mooriah, but that was the only explanation.

As the woman’s spirit lunged for the body it had just vacated, a giant mirror hurtled through the air toward them. Kyara dragged Tana out of the way just in time. Glass cracked and splintered, hitting its intended target—the body Mooriah had just vacated.

The aged form of Kyara’s former mistress and tormentor, Ydaris, lay crushed beneath the wreckage. Nethersong filled the woman immediately. She was dead.

More mirrors were vaulted their way by unseen hands in the midst of the crowd of wraiths, but this time Darvyn batted them away with winds.

Writhing with anger, Kyara struggled to focus, pointing her wildcat avatar into the opposing army, ejecting spirits left and right only to have them find hosts again almost immediately.

Her throat closed up. Her skin grew too tight against her muscles. She let go of her tight hold on Darvyn’s hand and tried to catch her breath.

The Breath Father’s words echoed in her head.The Song of anancient Nethersinger—it is mighty indeed… that power has grown beyond anyone’s imagining.Her vision swam and she stumbled in place.Once you unleash what it holds, there is no going back. You have only to touch it to release its fearsome force into this world and become a goddess of death.

The death stone was warm in her pocket and pulsing with purpose, like it wanted to be used. She fished the wrapped caldera from her pocket and held it in her shaking hand.

“That’s it?” Darvyn said. She nodded, unable to speak.

Gingerly, she unwrapped the cloth from around the stone while not touching it. It was just a dull, red rock in her hand. Small and harmless in appearance. All she had to do was touch it, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

Kyara’s and Tana’s avatars were still expelling spirits. Darvyn and the Raunians were manipulating the selakki oil, but a tiny corner of Kyara’s mind was frozen. Immobilized by the decision before her.

She had no wish to be a goddess of death. But did she have a choice?

Tana’s scream brought her back to the present.

“Papa!” the girl cried, sounding as though she was being murdered. “Papa!” She pointed a skinny, scarred arm toward one of the Elsiran wraiths who had moved to the front of the line.

“Benn?” Darvyn whispered with horror. “What? How?”

The man was as the other wraiths, impassive, sightless, waiting for instruction from their unseen master. Kyara’s heart broke at the misery and grief coming from Darvyn and Tana.

Distracted as she was by the sight before her and the panic taking up all the space inside, she did not see Tana turn toward the stone. By the time she recognized the girl’s intent it was too late.

Tana slapped her hand onto the death stone, which vibrated inresponse. Her small body convulsed in a seizure. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she started to fall.

There was no way she would be able to control the type of power the Breath Father said that the stone held. It already looked like it was killing her. Kyara grabbed the girl with her free arm. They both sank to the ground, Tana still attached to the death stone.

Tears filled Kyara’s eyes. She looked up at Darvyn whose expression was full of confusion.

Her mouth opened, wanting to say something, but not wanting that something to beGood-bye.

In the end, she said nothing at all. Merely unwrapped her arm from around Tana and grabbed the death stone herself.

The last thing she saw was the man she loved, staring at her in shock as Kyara left the Living World.

Wherever she was felt like the stillness at the heart of the Mother. Kyara was disconnected from her body in the same way she had been inside the mountain, her awareness was now fixed on a glut of power surging just beyond her fingertips. Tana’s presence was strong just outside the edge of Kyara’s vision, and this power, this newly released Song of a long-dead Nethersinger was a formless entity trying to attach itself to the girl.

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