Page 41 of Requiem of Silence

Varten froze at her appearance. He blinked rapidly then produced a smile. “I wasn’t hiding.”

“Weren’t you?” Roshon asked, sharp eyes focusing on him intently.

Had he been avoiding his brother? A thread of guilt wormed through him. The thing was, he really liked Ani. He didn’t have any problem with her being his new sister. In fact, he was the one who had pushed Roshon to challenge for her and issue the Raunian version of a proposal in the first place. She’d been in a bad situation, about to become the apprentice and future fiancée of a truly vile man, and Roshon had been her way out. And though the two hadn’t seen or spoken to one another in two and a half years, as soon as her ship had docked in Rosira, and they’d gotten through some initial missteps, she and Roshon had become closer than ever. Inseparable.

Varten was just preparing himself for the inevitable by pulling away. He was surprised Roshon had even noticed.

Ani paced around the room, peering at the shelves and the books scattered on the tables. She wasn’t wearing her prosthetictoday, but apparently didn’t need it, using her maimed arm adeptly, pushing books out of the way to get a look at what was beneath.

“So, I wanted to tell you,” Roshon said, “we’ll be leaving on Firstday.”

Two days away. Varten swallowed. “Oh, okay.”

“We’re going to postpone the wedding for a while, you know, to avoid a war.” Roshon spoke in Elsiran, probably for Ani’s benefit as, of the many languages she spoke, it was the only one they shared. Varten turned to Zeli, hoping she was keeping up. She nodded at him encouragingly.

“Makes sense,” he said.

Ani had made a small circle around their table. She was the kind of person who couldn’t sit still for any length of time—the opposite of Roshon, but maybe that was why they liked each other.

“Hi, I’m Ani,” she said to Zeli.

“Oh, right, you guys haven’t met. Zeli, Ani.”

Zeli smiled and stuck out her hand for a Yalyish-style handshake. “Pleasant to meet you.” Ani chuckled and they shook hands. Zeli didn’t display any visible reaction to Ani’s missing limb.

“How do they greet each other in Raun?” Varten asked.

“We don’t. Unless it’s someone who owes you money, and then it’s usually with a blade.” She grinned, the tattoos on her forehead and chin stretching slightly. Then she continued on her circuit, moving off to the other side of the room, casually inspecting the wall art and the morning’s newspapers stacked neatly on a table.

“We, ah, wanted to know,” Roshon began. “That is, the offer’s still open. For you to come with us.”

Zeli turned to him and whispered, “You’re leaving on Firstday?” Panic flared in her gaze.

“No, I…” he said, flustered. Zeli reined in the terror in herexpression, dropping her head to stare at the floor. Varten cleared his throat. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick it out here. I’m not sure a life on the sea is for me.” He spoke to his brother, while watching Zeli’s reaction from the corner of his eye. She didn’t lift her head, which had him worried.

“Are you certain?” Ani called out from across the room. “We were going to catch the Festival of Frogs in Dunbay on our way south. You haven’t really lived until you’ve seen a trained racing frog wearing a tiny diesel flyer shoot through the air above your head. It’s hysterical.”

Varten and Roshon shared a look of incredulity.

“One year, Father and I bought an army of frogs from Sirunan to enter,” she continued. “The best ones are raised and trained in Gilmeria, but we didn’t want to spend that much. Anyway, our team made it past the first round, solidly in the middle of the pack. We would have made it farther, only Father lost a bet and all our diesel went to a very lucky Udlander.” She crossed back over and settled next to Roshon, leaning against a table. “I’ve always thought I’d make a good frog racer, if I wasn’t sailing, you know?”

“So, wait, you’re saying the frogs—” Varten began, but Zeli straightened abruptly and cut in.

“Did you say Gilmeria?”

A loose thread in the carpet had snagged Ani’s attention. She nudged it with the toe of her boot. “Yeah. One of the commonwealths of Yaly.”

Zeli turned to Varten with a wide-eyed expression. “Would that have anything to do with someone named Gilmer?”

“Saint Gilmer is the hunter, I think. The commonwealths are all named after their saints. But there’s a lot of them and it’s confusing. You know the Gilmerian Rumpus starts next week, too. Iwish we had time to get up there and check it out.” Ani tapped her chin. “I wonder if we can sneak it in, just for a day…”

Zeli had turned ashen; Varten reached over to touch her arm and ensure she was all right. She didn’t draw breath for a few seconds.

“What’s the Gilmerian Rumpus?” Varten asked, as casually as he could manage. Fortunately, Roshon was watching Ani and not either of their reactions.

“Basically the biggest party on the continent. Only happens once every ten years. People come from around the world to honor Saint Gilmer with three days of feasting and hunting and dancing and general madness. And it’s the only time anyone can access the Gilmerian Archives, which are supposed to hold all the saint’s knowledge. You know, we once had a passenger, a scholar from Fremia, whose grandfather had won access to the Archives during a Rumpus. The old guy had found something in there that led to him inventing the first salt engine. I didn’t believe him at first, but Tai looked it up and it was true.”

“That’s… amazing,” Varten said, still gripping Zeli’s arm. He thought she might faint.

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