Page 85 of Requiem of Silence

The grim line of Pia’s mouth curved ever so slightly. “Woman to woman. Itisabout time this country got some feminine energy in its leadership,” she said. There was no need to give voice to the slight she had effected. Everyone present had seen it.

Jasminda’s nostrils flared. She couldn’t lift her chin any more and still be able to see, couldn’t mask her expression any more than she already was, but rage and humiliation were an inferno within her. Via Earthsong, she felt the other woman’s satisfaction at landing such a blow.

Very well then,Jasminda thought.If that’s how you want this to go.She produced a voluminous smile and led the way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

If you believe,

convinced,

convicted,

holding fast to your vast flaws,

no court may pardon you.

—THE HARMONY OF BEING

Zeli’s heart thundered inside her chest, its pace rapid and concerning. Every few steps she’d think she’d caught her breath and then the memory of the kiss would wash over her, pushing out everything else. The people, the noise, the music and laughter and dancing all disappeared and she would be back in that moment again, holding on for dear life. Unable to get her bearings.

Even now, with the crowd thinner, down to a normally busy day in Rosira, she would accidentally brush against Varten, jostledby something, and gasp. She nearly tripped three times and he steadied her, but she couldn’t bear to be touched by him because it always ended. And then she’d do nothing but want it again.

She pushed down the feelings that had so quickly taken over. Where had they come from? She didn’t want to be kissed. Didn’t think she’d even like it after her first time had been so terrifying. But Varten was nothing like that. Nothing likehim.And her heart simply refused to obey common sense and get back under control.

Fortunately, their destination loomed up ahead. A cluster of people with bluehunasgathered at the base of a huge building in the shape of a pyramid. The building looked like it had been built in layers by different builders with different materials. The bottom was limestone, on top of that gray rock, above that was glass—thick and warped. More layers rose from there, the higher glass layers looking shinier and smoother, and at the peak sat a brilliant, pointed red crystal, reflecting the late afternoon sun.

A clock chimed somewhere four times. They’d spent the day in the street walking and laughing and dancing. She didn’t feel as if she’d been on her feet all day; she suspected she’d feel it later.

The pyramid had a pair of enormous double doors at least two stories high, gilded with golden carvings. She couldn’t make out the detail at this distance, but they looked grand. The group gathered here was far smaller than she’d thought it might be. Then again, there were many, many more yellow, gold, and redhunasin the city center—the search for knowledge was just not as popular as the other options. Hopefully that would work to their advantage.

Anticipation hummed inside her, making her feel nearly as light-headed as the drink had. As the kiss had. She shook her head to clear it—they’d made it this far. They were actually at the Rumpus, about to face the challenge. When they started, she wasn’t certain she’d even believed they’d get here.

She turned to Varten and her excitement cooled. He was uncharacteristically quiet, face drawn and pensive. Did he regret the kiss?

Lanar stood on his other side, though she thought they’d lost him in the celebration. A strange, cloudy haze seemed to follow the man around. He was obviously not enjoying the festivities. Whereas Zeli and Varten had lost themselves in the dancing and merriment, Lanar showed no signs of falling victim to that sort of levity.

So she stayed quiet, clasping her hands in front of her and wondering at Varten’s sudden change of mood. He must regret it. He was a prince, after all, and she was… nobody. Not a Sister, not even a novice anymore now that she’d abandoned her duties.

He was probably right to have second thoughts, it had definitely been a mistake. What was in that golden honey drink anyway?

“Want a chocolate stick?”

She turned to find Remi next to her, face plastered with the remnants of the chocolate confection in question. It must have been one of the candies being sold by vendors set up along the streets.

“Do you have another one?” she asked, noticing his empty hands.

“I ate mine, but I can get you one if you like.”

“No, thank you.” She had no money at all and Varten had still not been to the bank.

At the pyramid’s base, a group of acolytes in long white robes with funny round white caps on their heads had gathered. One of them lifted a small cone to his lips, which amplified his voice loud enough that the entire audience could hear.

His voice was rich and resonant and he spoke slowly enough that if he’d been speaking in Elsiran, she might have understood. “What’s he saying?” she asked Remi.

He motioned her down, so she knelt beside him. “To getinside, you need to…” Remi kept his voice low and closed his eyes in thought. “Find a way in. That’s the challenge. Gain entry to the Archives before sunset and you may possess as many of its secrets as you can gather in twenty-four hours.”

The crowd chittered with excitement but Zeli’s heart sank. The challenge to getting into the Archives was getting into the Archives? The man up front kept talking, but Remi frowned. “He’s just repeating it again with longer words and more sermonizing about how great Saint Gilmer is.”

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