Page 47 of The Storm
Evin’s small forehead was furrowed. “What’s an empath? I don’t know that word.”
Thawra signed,Are you sure?
“About the voices? Yes. It’s very simple. I’ll work on more complex spells for you and the baby later. But for now, I can teach her a children’s song that will help with the voices. The emotional shielding, I’m not sure about, but I’ll look.”
It was past time she refreshed herself and delved into the well of memory she’d spent half her life developing. She knew there were spells she’d learned for Chamuel’s daughters. That was part of an archivist’s job. She just had to find the trigger to remember them.
Renata led Evin back to the library and sat next to her on the couch.
“Okay, I’m going to teach you a little song, and I want you to sing it just like I do. It has to be exact. Do you think you can do that?”
Evin nodded. “I’m very clever.”
Renata smiled. “I know you are.”
Even reached out and took her hand. “You’re loud.”
Renata blinked. “What?”
“You’re very loud. You have…” Evin squeezed Renata’s hand and sucked in a breath. In a heartbeat, her little face crumpled. “They hurt your heart too,” she said as tears ran down her face. “Like Mama. They hurt your heart too.”
Evin’s small hand clutched hers, and Renata was torn between pulling back and comforting the child, who had started to sob. A moment of hesitation and Renata pulled Evin into her arms, wrapping herself around the little girl who cried as if her heart was breaking.
“Pull back, Evin. Do you know how to pull back?”
Evin pressed her cheek to Renata’s and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Renata gasped as the pain struck her chest. Without thought or will, the past rose up and stabbed her, sucking her into a howling storm of memory as the child clutched her neck.
There was laughter and the smell of cinnamon and pine.
Lights and singing.
Then the screaming came.
Her mother’s gut-wrenching sobs.
“The children! Renata, where are the children?”
Wails and the sickening scent of sandalwood and blood. Her father’s groan of anguish.
“It can’t be. It can’t be. No, it cannot be.”
“We were gone.”Balien’s hollow voice.“I left them. I left them alone.”
Her father’s soul.
Silent.
Her mother’s soul.
Silent.
The last roar of her lover’s voice.
“Renata, you must run!”
Then silence.
