Page 151 of Requiem of Silence

“She was ejected from the body she’d been using. I haven’t seen her since.”

He closed his golden eyes and grew very still—not even appearing to breathe. “I know where she is.”

They said their good-byes to the girls and their parents, then Fenix led Kyara back to the Portside Hospital, where Jasminda and Darvyn were out front overseeing the Earthsingers volunteering for healing tasks.

Jasminda had not met Fenix before. Though he’d tempered hisglow to appear more human, he still stood out and drew stares from those around them. Kyara made the introductions, but Fenix paid little attention to the Elsiran queen. His gaze had been captured by the crowd of bystanders gathered around the plaza.

The sea of people parted and Mooriah stood there, looking rather regal herself. Kyara wondered what body she was using, hoping it was not a corpse.

“Spirits cannot normally possess the dead,” Fenix said, using that uncanny ability he had to read her thoughts. “It was the foul magic of the True Father’s that made it possible. It cost him quite dearly. And I cannot read your mind, you just have a very expressive face.” The hint of a smile danced on his lips.

Darvyn was suddenly next to her, speaking low in her ear. “Are you all right?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She truly had no idea.

Mooriah paced toward them, scowling at Fenix. “Why haven’t you closed the portal?”

“Hello to you, too,” Kyara muttered, but Fenix’s smile emerged full force.

“I will, but there’s the matter of the sentinel to be decided.”

“What is there to decide?” Mooriah snapped. “I have served the role all this time, I shall return again.” At this, Fenix’s smile slipped away.

“What is a sentinel?” Kyara asked.

“The barrier between worlds is still thin,” Fenix responded. “No doubt some enterprising future mage will find a way to breach it again. The World After needs someone to watch over it, monitor the restless spirits, and give the living a warning the next time things go astray.”

Kyara shuddered to think of a next time. She turned to Mooriah. “That’s what you were doing for all that time? You were the sentinel?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Murmur told me that one was needed, and that was a role I was uniquely prepared to play.”

“It needs to be a Nethersinger?” Kyara’s chest grew tight. Darvyn stiffened beside her.

Fenix was grim. “Few others can survive in the World After.”

“And that is why I will go back.” Mooriah’s expression was stoic, but Kyara sensed melancholy beneath the surface.

“You have served you time.” Fenix crossed his arms, looking annoyed for the first time. “You committed no crime. And even if you had, surely the sentence has been paid.”

“Who else then? This one and the girl have lives to live. I have already lived mine. You would ask one of these children to sacrifice so much?” Hurt laced her voice.

Fenix dropped his head, looking chagrined. “Of course not.”

Kyara did not have to be an Earthsinger to sense the longing within Fenix for Mooriah. Centuries ago Mooriah had married another and raised a family, but there was obviously history between these two, even if it was complicated.

Mooriah reached for his hand. “Another lifetime. Is that not what I told you? Just, perhaps not this one.”

Fenix remained silent, staring at the ground. Kyara closed her eyes, unwilling to see more. Darvyn’s hand was solid at her back, a supportive presence. She kept her eyes shut as she spoke, unwilling to see what her words would do to him.

“It’s my turn,” she whispered, more breath than sound. Darvyn’s hand gripped the back of her tunic, but she continued. “You’ve given up more than anyone could ever ask you to, Mooriah. It’s my turn.” She opened her eyes, still avoiding Darvyn.

Mooriah frowned. “I cannot ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to. There’s no place for me here, I’ve done too much that can’t be forgiven. That shouldn’t be forgiven. If this is penance, or punishment, or simply making amends. It must be me.”

Tears welled in Mooriah’s eyes. “This sacrifice you make, almost no one will know of it.”

“I don’t do it for glory. It’s necessary, isn’t it?”

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