The Silent

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “I’m hoping Ginny brought Kenneth,” Alyah said.

  “Kenneth?”

  Alyah smiled. “In another life, he’s a linguistics professor at the university. Kenneth is originally from Hong Kong. He speaks and writes almost every language in Southeast Asia fluently. Preserving local languages is his passion. I think this girl might be from the Wa people. Part of her tribe lives in Yunnan Province, and Kenneth has probably studied them.”

  “How likely is Ginny to have brought him?” Kyra reached for the baby wrapped in a colorful pink cloth. “She’s clearly attached, but she can’t continue to care for him as she has been or she’ll die. I don’t think she really understood what I was trying to tell her.”

  Alyah happily handed the baby over to Kyra. “I’m hopeful,” she said. “Kenneth is incurably curious. If Ginny told him she was going into Burma to get some women out, he might have volunteered.”

  Kyra wrapped the swaddling more tightly around the sleeping baby. Despite his mother’s sickness, he was round-cheeked and blooming with health, sleeping peacefully with two fingers stuck in his mouth.

  Perfect. All the babies were so perfect.

  Her heart twisted.

  What would it be like to have a child of her own? Was it possible if she and Leo mated? Her mind supplied the dream of a round-cheeked, blond baby with vivid blue eyes and milk-pale skin. She glanced up to see Leo watching her with an expression she couldn’t read.

  Longing. It might have been longing. Or that might have been her own.

  She kissed the silky black hair of the boy in her arms and held him as they bumped over the country roads.

  For now, the little boy was the son of a Fallen angel.

  For now, his fate was balanced on the edge of a knife.

  Prija IV

  She could hear the traffic in Mandalay and knew that, were it not for her damaged mind, she would have gone insane. Perhaps the city was a punishment for killing their Irin friend. The Grigori who took her had not been pleased.

  They knew what had happened as soon as they opened the door. Prija expected them to search her, but they didn’t. In fact, not a single one touched her from then on. They did drive through more populated areas though. They must have thought of it as a punishment.

  So Prija killed the scribe, kept his knife, and nothing happened to her. She was not unpleased with that outcome.

  She was unpleased with the conditions in Mandalay.

  The human women there were kept in filthy quarters and near starving. Prija was thrown in a large room with a dozen of them. She did not have her saw sam sai. She didn’t have any privacy. She was given a tin bowl, and twice a day, a large basket of rice was brought to the room. The women fell on it, starving. There was a shower in the corner and a pit toilet, but that was all. Most of them were thin and wan from the Grigori who were slowly draining their lives, but when the guards opened the gate and called their names, the women went to the door smiling. They came back unconscious or nearly so. The other women laid the girls on their pallets and went back to gossiping or sewing or braiding each other’s hair.

  It disgusted Prija even though she understood the women were drunk on Grigori power. They couldn’t help themselves.

  It still disgusted her. The black shadow had become thicker and stronger. A fog hung around her mind.

  The second night, one of the Grigori called her name. She sat in the corner, staring at the wall, and pretended not to hear.

  “Prija.”

  Fools.

  She stood and walked to the door. The smirking guard led her down a hallway and took her to another shower. This one had a door and was equipped with warm water. It was nearly luxurious. A clean set of clothes was laid on the bench by the shower, and fresh-scented soaps were by the sink.

  Prija washed. She closed her eyes and let the warm water fall over her, filling her mouth and covering her face. She soaked her hair and wiggled her toes. Whatever else the night brought, at least she would be clean. It had been days since she’d had a proper bath, and she could hardly bear her own scent. She washed away the grime but was relieved when she turned off the water to find that the black fog that had wrapped around her was still there. It settled against her skin as she pulled on the cotton shirt and wrapped the skirt around her.

  After she dressed, she knocked on the door and the guard opened it.

  He led her down a hall and into a bedroom.

  So much for being untouchable.

  She didn’t have much time. The Grigori—he must have been someone important because the room was spacious and had beautiful furniture—was already there. Before he could turn, Prija struck out with her mind.

  “Tell them I want the woman to—” He broke off with a strangled cry.

  Prija didn’t wait. She struck again, as she had with the scribe in the van. The Grigori fell to the ground and bled from his ears as the guards rushed into the room.

  “What have you done?”

  A second guard walked in. “I told you!”

  Prija hung back for a moment, watching the Grigori flail. Something kept her there. Kept her watching. Blood continued to trickle from his ears. His eyes were rolled back and his mouth was slack.

  “She’s a demon!”

  You should go.

  For the first time in years, the voice in her mind wasn’t her own.

  Prija walked out and wandered down the hall. She kept walking and got as far as the courtyard before someone stopped her. They threw a hood over her head and lifted her from her feet. She kicked out and struck in all directions with her mind, but she couldn’t see anyone, and she could no longer hear voices, so none of her jabs hit a target. She was tossed over a shoulder and someone jogged. It was very uncomfortable.

  “Here!” Whoever was holding her put her on her feet and started yelling. “Take her! Get her away from here. We don’t want her.”

  Rough hands grabbed her upper arms. “We told you. She’s a gift for Arindam. He will hear of your disrespect.”

  “You’re nothing here,” the other Grigori said. “And you’ll be nothing in Bagan. You take her there and Arindam will kill you.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Without another word, Prija was tossed in the back of the van and the doors slammed behind her. She tore off the hood and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her saw sam sai safe in a corner under a bench. She looked around. Nothing about the van had changed. In a few minutes, she and her captors were traveling along the highway again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Leo, Kyra, and their motley army returned to the small inn and quickly hid the women in their various bungalows. Leo had searched for the Wa language online and found a few passages of the Bible translated. Through that, he’d been able to speak enough to calm the panicked mother. She was safely stowed in Sura’s bungalow with the other women, and Niran’s Grigori guarded them.

  He was unpacking the van when Alyah approached.

  “Where is she?” he asked.

  “Ginny takes her time, and she may have had trouble at the border.”

  “Is she going to be able to get all these women back into Thailand? They don’t have papers. They have nothing but the clothes they’re wearing.”

  “The scribe house will have taken care of that,” Alyah said. “Once they arrive, we should be able to hand them off and keep going.”

  It didn’t sit well with Leo that Prija had been moved so quickly. If she was that dangerous, the Fallen wouldn’t be able to ignore her for long. And the quicker she caught Arindam’s attention, the more difficult it would be to extract her.

  “Rith is among the warriors Ginny is bringing,” Alyah said. “He will be staying with us. He has a black blade with him.”

  “Dara’s brother?”

  “Yes.”

  Leo nodded. All Irin warriors knew what a black blade was. Leo had been struck with one, and it was only coals from the sacred fire that had healed him. Black blades were heaven-forged and brought to ear
th at the beginning of time. They had no equal and were the only way to kill one of the Fallen.

  Only Irin scribes could wield a black blade, because the magic it took for mortal hands to control one had to be written on the skin. It was complicated and deep magic. Usually only elders or very senior watchers could control one. Warriors of Mikael’s line took to the magic more readily, and considering both Rith and his sister were warriors, it was likely Mikael’s blood ran in their veins.

  Leo said, “It’s unusual for someone less senior than a watcher to wield a blade like that.”

  Alyah nodded. “Our house is… different. In any other place, Rith would already be a watcher. In any other place, Anurak wouldn’t be allowed to continue on as the watcher while serving as an elder in Vienna. It is only because female watchers are not technically allowed to exist that they have these… interesting loopholes, I think you would say in English.”

  “Because if Irina could be watchers,” Leo said, “then Dara would be the watcher and Rith could have his own house.”

  “Exactly. But he believes in her leadership, so he stays to bolster her. It gives the rest of the scribes confidence to know a strong scribe and singer head the house, even if our watcher is far away.”

  Leo thought about his former watcher, Damien, and his mate, Sari, who were such a powerful couple. “Ideally, watchers and their mates would fill those roles. Long ago that was typical, was it not?”

  Alyah said, “I’m as young as you are, Leo. I don’t know how things were. Just how they are now.”

  “We’re both operating at a disadvantage, aren’t we?”

  “I don’t know.” Alyah smiled. “Maybe being young means that we’re not bound to the past like the others. The future will be what we make of it.” Alyah nodded at Kyra and the little kareshta girl. They were walking through the forest, Kyra pointing out the birds flying overhead. “Maybe our world needs young ones like us because we see possibilities where our elders do not.”

  Three hours later, Ginny drove up in a van with Sunshine Tours! emblazoned on the side. A tall, dignified Asian man walked with her as three other Irin shifted things in the van and another walked to the office at the front of the inn.

  Alyah met Ginny and bowed to both her friend and the tall man who accompanied her. Then she led them to where Leo and Niran were waiting.

  “Leo, this is Kenneth, the scribe I was telling you about. He came along in case some of the women needed a translator.”

  “He anticipated us,” Leo said. “Kenneth, we thank you.”

  Kenneth held out a hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.” His English accent revealed a crisp, British intonation. “Ginny tells me you’re from Istanbul. I’ve heard so much about the library in Cappadocia; it’s rumored to be the most complete in the eastern Mediterranean.”

  “I don’t know about that as much as my watcher would,” Leo said. “But I’d be happy to offer an introduction if you ever want to visit. Alyah speaks very highly of you.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Kenneth said before he turned to Niran. “And you are the Grigori watcher from Chiang Mai?”

  Niran started at the “watcher” label, but Alyah was quick to jump in.

  “He is,” she said. “Niran, this is Kenneth, a professor in Bangkok.”

  “And a scribe,” Niran said.

  “I am.” Kenneth smiled. “Sadly, more swift with my references than my blades. But I do think I can be of assistance to the young women we’re assisting, if you’d be kind enough to introduce me.”

  Niran relaxed at Kenneth’s warm, disarming introduction. He nodded and led Kenneth toward the bungalows, telling the professor what he knew about the human women, particularly the young woman from the Wa hill tribe.

  Leo watched them walk toward Sura’s bungalow where the women and children were staying. He wondered what Kyra would make of Kenneth, and if she’d trust the women and children with him. She was cautious, and he could already see her becoming attached to both the baby and the little girl.

  She has a mother’s heart.

  The thought of Kyra carrying his child leapt into Leo’s mind. He wanted that. In time. He wanted her to have the joy of motherhood and family. He wanted it for himself too. Leo didn’t know how to be a father, but he had observed Malachi caring for his two small children. Leo knew he would have the same love that Malachi did with Geron and Matti.

  “What are you thinking about?” Ginny asked him.

  He sat on the porch. “Family.”

  Ginny sat next to him. “Is she your reshon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you certain? Or is it wishful thinking?” Ginny’s normally bright mood had shifted, and she sounded deadly serious. “Be sure, Leo.”

  “I’m sure.” He turned his eyes from staring at the bungalows. “I think we both knew from the beginning. My voice was always the clearest to her. My heart always rested with her. And her touch… It was only the world interfering. First the battle in Vienna. Her brother’s protectiveness. My reluctance to pursue her when I didn’t know her heart.”

  “And now it’s her health.”

  Leo said nothing. Alyah had performed a song to give Kyra strength, but he knew Ginny’s magic was stronger. Kyra didn’t appear weak after the excitement that morning, but Leo lived in a constant state of worry.

  He couldn’t perform the mating ritual and extend his magic to her without weakening himself for the coming fight. Yet he lived in fear that Kyra’s life would blink out without warning.

  But if he performed the ritual and linked her longevity to his, it would weaken him. Then if he died in battle, she probably would too.

  “I’m going mad,” he said quietly. “What should I do? If I give her my magic—”

  “You’ll be weak.”

  “But she would live.”

  “And if you died?” Ginny asked. “What then? If your lives are linked and you died in a fight, she’d likely die anyway. You know that, Leo. The sacrifice isn’t worth it.”

  “Her life is worth everything to me.”

  Ginny sighed and rubbed both hands over her eyes. “Her life will always be tied to yours unless she has her own magic.”

  “I know. But I can’t teach her, and Ava’s not here. I think if I could get her back to Istanbul—”

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you the other night.”

  Leo spoke cautiously. “Ginny, I have no intention of asking you for any favors. That’s not why Alyah called you.”

  “I know.” Ginny nodded. “But you love her. She’s your reshon. You have every right to ask questions.”

  “But not every right to cause pain,” Leo said. “I am sorry for that.”

  Ginny nodded, looking across the yard at the scribes unloading the tourist van.

  “It was a long time ago,” she said quietly. “I need to get over it.”

  “Scars remain, even after a wound heals. I can show you a few of my own, if you like.”

  “Why would I want to see that?” She smiled. “Everyone has their own stories. Their own wounds. Mine don’t make me special.”

  “No, you’re special for many more reasons than your scars, Ginny.”

  She grabbed his chin. “You have to stop being so sweet. Otherwise I’ll be tempted to get rid of your girl and keep you for myself.”

  “You’re not going to do that.” He smiled. “Your heart is too good.”

  “You’re killing me,” she groaned. “Okay, let’s go find Kyra.”

  Leo halted. “Why?”

  “I can’t fight with you in this one,” she said, rising from the porch. “But I can give you an edge that will make you more focused. If you’re not worried about Kyra, you’ll be able to focus on fighting this Fallen. And I guarantee my crazy energy will be enough to keep her going for a good long while.”

  Leo’s heart pounded. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Besides, it’ll give me an outlet. It’s been a dry spell for me, and the energy I have built up is st
arting to get to me. I need to expend some big magic, and I’m more than happy to give it to your girl.”

  Leo grabbed her hand and rose. “Ginny, thank you.”

  “Thank me later,” she said. “If she’s anything like me, she’ll be revved up afterward, so I’m guessing you’ll want privacy.”

  Leo felt his face heat. “Are you talking about—?”

  “Yep.” Ginny waved a hand. “Come on. I don’t have all day.”

  Leo walked toward the bungalow where Kyra was helping with the women. “Niran wants to leave tonight.”

  “I’ll tell him you need to wait until morning. You’ll want to stay with her and give her privacy until the first wave passes.”

  “Wave?”

  “Energy, man.” Ginny smiled. “This is as close to high or drunk that Kyra will probably get until you guys do your mating ritual. Nothing beats that, but this spell comes pretty close.” Ginny stopped and put a hand on his chest. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Mr. Wholesome?”

  His face must have been flaming, but he nodded.

  “Good. Now let’s find your girl, because you’re not going to want to be in mixed company after we do this.”

  He swallowed hard. “She’s in the bungalow with the women and children.”

  “Go get her and bring her to wherever you two are staying. I’ll wait. You two need to discuss a few things before we start. No euphemisms. Don’t be shy. Set clear boundaries for both of you. That’s all the advice I’ll give you. Other than that, have fun.”

  Kyra narrowed her eyes. “So, this magic she’s going to perform…?”

  “It will bolster your life energy with a huge punch of Ginny’s magic. But the side effect of that will be… Well, I’m sure it’s linked to life and the continuation of life and… the mating cycle and—”

  “Oh!” Her eyes went wide. “You mean…”