Page 61 of The Storm
“Hundreds of years?” Kyra asked. “Since before the Rending?”
Leo only shrugged.
She had listened to Renata sing many times in Istanbul. Her sister was a trained Irina librarian and could recite oral histories for days if asked. It was part of her training to share her knowledge, and she’d taken on the job of teaching Kyra and Ava with pleasure. Max sat beside her on the stone hearth, his hand resting on the back of Renata’s thigh as she stood before the scribes.
Kyra remembered the first time she’d seen Max. It had been years before Kostas had revealed her as his sister, and she’d seen the dangerous Irin scribe from the corner of a café in Sofia where Max met with her brother. His gaze had been dark and suspicious then, his energy restless and savage. Kyra had escaped through the back door of the café with one of her brother’s men, worried Max might look in her direction.
Now his eyes rested on his mate, peace and pride in his gaze. The darkness was still visible when Max was roused, but Kyra could see past it to the protective bent of his nature. He and Renata were perfectly matched—warriors who’d found respite in each other.
Kyra leaned over to Leo. “They’re so beautiful together.”
Leo’s face softened. “As beautiful as we are?”
She smiled. “Maybe more.”
“Not possible.” He kissed her temple, and Kyra laid her head on his shoulder as Renata began to sing. She sang in the Old Language, which Kyra was still learning, so Leo whispered the translation in her ear.
“Listen this night to the song of Adelina’s journey,
our sister who sailed to the northern sea.
She met many along the water and battled many demons,
but none matched her wit, save for the giant of Saaremaa.”
It was a story like many Kyra had heard in other traditions and languages. An adventurer traveling far from home, outsmarting enemies and fighting foes. Adelina traveled from an unnamed land in the east and followed the rivers to the Baltic Sea where she met a giant who promised to give her secret knowledge from the Forgiven angels if she could outwit him. After many days, Adelina discovered the answer to his riddle hidden in a linden tree and told the giant, who told her the secret of his long and happy marriage. Of course, the secret knowledge the giant shared involved building saunas and growing cabbage, which made everyone in the room laugh even though they’d all heard the tale before.
It was a joyful and humorous story, one meant to be shared among friends after a full meal. The low chuckles and smiles around the room accomplished what Renata had likely wanted. The heavy atmosphere lifted, and the hard men began to smile.
Renata moved from Adelina’s journey to a joyful song about the first mothers, the venerated women who had raised the first generation of Irin children. It was a song Kyra had heard before, a common and popular one glowing with praise and beautiful imagery. She glanced around the room to see the softer faces of the scribes around her. Some of them wore wistful expressions. Gustav had glassy eyes.
“They needed this,” Kyra whispered. “They needed her.”
Leo nodded but didn’t speak.
When Renata moved into the next song, Kyra felt the energy in the room change. The air grew heavy, and she could feel magic rising. “Leo?” She tugged on his arm. “What is she singing?”
Leo’s own eyes were glassy, and his voice was rough. “It’s a mourning song. ‘Hilal’s Lament.’”
Renata kept singing even as tears began to fill her eyes. Max leaned into her, his arm wrapped around his mate’s legs as she poured two hundred years of mourning into her voice. Mating marks lit around her neck, gold that matched the fire behind her. Max’stalesmglowed in response.
“Please,” Kyra whispered. “Tell me what she’s saying.”
Leo gripped her hand. He whispered,
“Surely I will sing of my lover’s hands,
strong in battle and gentle in the night.
He has left me, but I will not fade.
For our children cry from the meadow
where their father fell.
They eat the bloody earth in mourning
and rage at the night.”
