Page 4 of Requiem of Silence

“None of the Lagrimari will talk to me or to the constables,” Camm said, “but that would be my guess. Ilysara is trying to get more answers.” He motioned to Jasminda’s other new assistant, a Lagrimari woman standing among the huddled victims, still in their sleeping clothes.

Ilysara broke off her conversation and approached, greeting Jasminda with a bow and Camm with a nod. “Your Majesty,” Ilysara said in Elsiran, a language that she’d grown remarkably proficient with in a short period of time. She was several years older than both Jasminda and Camm, and had been some kind of recordkeeper in the True Father’s harems.

“What have you learned?” Jasminda asked.

“The family I was just speaking with was awakened by a neighbor who arrived home from working a late shift and noticed all the smoke.”

“Did any of them see who could have committed the counterattack?”

“No,” Ilysara replied, frowning. “But a strong Earthsinger could have done it from a short distance away and not be seen.”

“Anyone take responsibility?”

“The Keepers haven’t said anything.”

Jasminda nodded, biting her lip. For an Earthsinger to cause harm or death was incredibly difficult—for asaneEarthsinger, that is. A Song connected you to the life energy of every living thing, and purposefully taking a life while being a part of that connection was unnatural, painful, harrowing. It could easily drive you mad.

Jasminda reached for her Song and joined the infinite flow of life energy. She let it wash over her, filling her up, before reaching out to sense the emotions of those nearby. Fear, resentment, anger. A few shields keeping her out, those were other Singers. It could be that whoever perpetrated the violence had stuck around, but she had no way of knowing. If so, they were not feeling particularly guilty.

She sighed, releasing her power. “Everyone here has been healed who wanted to be?”

Camm nodded, and Ilysara pursed her lips. “The Elsirans who survived refused Earthsong healing,” she said.

Camm shrugged. “You can’t force someone to be helped.”

Ilysara turned away looking sour. While neither had expressed any opposition to working with one another, Jasminda sensed that the two did not exactly get along. However, she could not possibly have chosen an Elsiran over a Lagrimari or vice versa—the optics would have been horrible, so she’d chosen one of each. Camm had come recommended by the royal event planner and was from an aristocratic family. Ilysara, with a few prematurely gray hairs at the temples of her short, kinky hair, had been identified by the Keepers of the Promise. She never spoke without careful consideration of her words, but her intelligence was nearly frightening. Jasminda liked them both very much.

“If they don’t want healing, they won’t be healed,” Jasminda said with a sigh.

“There aren’t many Singers willing to heal Elsirans anyway, given how ungrateful they are.” Ilysara’s eyes were flinty. Camm looked uncomfortable with the assertion, but wisely stayed quiet.

A commotion among the citizens caused Jasminda to turn as her Guard tightened its protective circle around her. She peered around broad shoulders to find two young men—possibly teenagers—oneElsiran and one Lagrimari, tussling. They fell to the ground in a flurry of fists. Several cautious onlookers seemed ready to step in once an opportunity presented itself, but none did.

She could use Earthsong to distract them, pull them apart, or drop a wall of darkness around them like Darvyn was so fond of doing. But what would that solve? This scuffle was being played out on stages big and small around their land.

An elder Lagrimari man barked out some words she didn’t catch, then grabbed the refugee boy by his collar and dragged him away. The cut on the boy’s cheek was healed before their eyes by an unknown Singer.

The Elsiran was helped up by a woman who immediately began scolding him. Shouts and curses were traded back and forth in the respective languages of the two groups—though neither could understand each other.

Jasminda took a deep breath. “Get the constables to separate these people.” Camm and Ilysara both nodded and pushed their way outside the wall of Guardsmen to go and defuse the situation.

Unity, when it came, would be hard-won, they’d all known that. But right now turning two nations, whose only commonality was an abiding mutual hatred for one another, into a unified populace didn’t just look hard, it looked impossible.

CHAPTER TWO

A road undriven leads nowhere.

All lives are journeys. Some will take

you across the globe while others

consist of only a single

step.

—THE HARMONY OF BEING

The squawk of a large black-and-white bird diving into the sea startled Kyara. Waves crashed in a soothing percussion, lulling her into a place just beyond consciousness, not asleep, but not quite awake, either. She yawned and straightened her back, slightly sore from sitting hunched over for who knew how long. The sand beneath her was warm from the sun, though the air had a jagged bite to it and a light wind had picked up, chilling it further.

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