Page 91 of Requiem of Silence

There would be no children in her and Darvyn’s future—at least not ones with his smile. All of theul-nedrimandol-nedrim,the harem-born children of the True Father, were sterile. She’d never thought much about it before gaining her freedom, and tried not to focus on it now as there was nothing she could do. Part of her was glad that the True Father’s vile seed could not be spreadany further. And though the moniker the king had appropriated belied it, Kyara never had a father, had never really missed one. That Darvyn may not get the chance to be one was the most distressing.

Still, there were plenty of orphans like Ulani and Tana who needed loving homes. And maybe that was the better choice anyway, to offer a home to a child already alive as opposed to bringing a new one into the cruel world.

Her mind was wandering again, flitting back and forth between these thoughts of a future that might never be and a past that she was only now beginning to truly understand. Of course, if she couldn’t get any further in her training, then the future would be short indeed. Much better to stay focused on the present. And in the present, she was trailing far behind Tana.

In fact, she was on the remedial track, still working on targeting the center tree and leaving the rest untouched. She breathed deeply and her avatar kitten appeared, then morphed into its powerful wildcat form. The leonine figure paced in front of her before she directed it outward. It shot forward and was back in a fraction of a second. This time the center three trees were blackened and crumbling, but the two on the end were intact.

“Better,” Murmur said coming up beside her.

“But still slow and inaccurate,” Mooriah added. “You must try harder.”

Kyara grit her teeth. “Iamtrying.”

“Harderis what I said.”

Kyara bit back her retort and calmed herself. The targets were reset and she did the drill again. And again. With each attempt, she made incremental progress that buoyed her with hope. But Mooriah was strung tight as a bow and ready to snap.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Kyara was able to target only the center tree. A smile graced her face though she did truly feel like celebrating. “I don’t understand why this is so difficult. I’ve been able to control my aim before.”

“With the use of external sources of Nethersong or in emergency situations when you weren’t thinking about it so hard,” Murmur said. “You must be able to do it on your own and your mind is what is currently getting in the way.”

“Her stubbornness, more like,” Mooriah grumbled.

The thin strand of control that Kyara had kept over her temper around the woman so far snapped and she whirled to face her. “What exactly is your problem? I just completed the test.”

“And you want some sort of award for taking two days to do what that child did in an hour? This isn’t a leisurely vacation we’re on. You’ve already wasted enough time staring at the ocean when you could have been training.”

Kyara took a step closer, seething. “So I was supposed to trust a five-hundred year old woman who wanted to drag me back to the place where they tried to kill the man I love? I’m here now, and I’m doing my best.”

“You’re here and if this is your best then we’re all doomed.” Mooriah’s face was blank as slate and Kyara wanted to smack her. She nearly did but Murmur placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. His touch was barely substantial but did its job in staying her hand. However, anger still bubbled inside her.

“I. Am. Trying.”

Mooriah leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose. “Try. Harder.” She took a step back and spread her arms out. “We mustdefeat the True Father, the three of us. A dead woman, a child, and the Poison Flame. We must be at full capacity or he will win.”

A hint of vulnerability cracked her stony exterior. That was what cooled the rage beneath Kyara’s skin. “What did he take fromyou? I thought you grew up here, protected from him?”

Mooriah’s shoulders sank, causing her to deflate a bit. “He killed my father. My mother, too, I suppose you could say. Made me an orphan.”

Kyara swallowed. “I didn’t realize.” She dropped her head. “I’m ashamed to share his blood. So please trust that I will work as hard as I can to see him defeated.”

“Share his blood?” Mooriah frowned.

“I was born in the harem. He sires sons almost exclusively, but there are a few of us daughters around.”

The woman shook her head. “You are not his daughter.”

Kyara froze. “What makes you say that?”

She snorted. “Because I have kept track of my descendants. My children lived in the mountain for a time, several generations in fact. But I’d always wanted them to live outside. Eventually, they left the Mother for life in Lagrimar. They adopted my father’s house, that of the Mistress of Eagles, and became Sarifors.

“The True Father is not your father, Kyara. Your mother fell in love with a soldier who died before you were born. When she was taken to the harems, she was already pregnant with you. You are one of mine. You were never his.”

Kyara stumbled backward. The shock was so great that it tore her away from the spirit realm of the heart of the Mother back into her body seated in front of the fire in the small cave. The bodies of Tana, Mooriah, and Murmur were around her, still in their trances.

Kyara stood on wobbly legs and left the cave. Across the chasm,Ella was cooking something over a fire. She looked up when Kyara emerged, but if she said something, Kyara couldn’t hear her for the rushing in her ears.

Her whole life—she had to reimagine the way she looked at her whole life. Everything she’d ever thought about herself was different now. She wasn’tul-nedrimat all, she was of the House of Eagles. The Mistress of Eagles with her prophetic knowledge and perceptiveness was her lineage. She was actually related to Mooriah. The thought made a shiver go down her spine.

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