The Silent: Irin Chronicles Book Five(28)

Alyah stepped forward. As the only official warrior of the Bangkok house, it was her duty. Leo and Ginny fell in behind her, but not too close.

“May the light shine on your house,” she said.

Niran put his hands together and nodded. “I do not know the proper Irin words, but you and your people are welcome.”

His words said one thing, but his body language said another. Leo was reading Niran, and the Grigori was not pleased.

“We appreciate the welcome,” Alyah said. “You’ve already met Leo, I know. He is of the Istanbul house. And this is Ginny, an Irina who resides locally.”

“The American Sura met?” Niran greeted her as well. “You are also welcome.”

Shockingly, he ignored Leo.

“Come,” Niran said. “My brothers are serving tea in the garden. Join us so we can talk.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Alyah said.

Leo walked at the back as Niran guided them around the monastery walls and toward an open teahouse set in the middle of the garden. A long, low table surrounded by cushions sat under the shaded structure. Grigori in monks’ robes walked to and from it, carrying trays and setting out dishes. The teahouse was surrounded by a massive garden. Vegetables grew along the edges with flowering plants surrounding the dining table.

“You have a beautiful home,” he told Niran.

Niran said nothing, but he nodded.

They passed a gate to the left. Leo peered past it to see a path nearly concealed by thick bamboo. Moss-lined cobblestones disappeared into the hedge, which fronted a dense forest. Instinct told him that path led him to the guarded homes of the kareshta sisters. Perhaps they met in the evenings at the outdoor table, joining their brothers to partake of the evening meal, but none were there when Niran, Alyah, Ginny, and Leo arrived at the garden house.

They sat down on thick silk cushions and watched the Grigori pour tea.

Everything about their hosts’ outward appearance told Leo they were Grigori. They had the perfectly symmetrical faces and bodies of angelic offspring. They were handsome and fit. They exuded a near intoxicating magnetism. He could see that both Alyah and Ginny noticed it.

But nothing in their manner said Grigori. They all wore the orange robes of a Buddhist monk. Their heads were shaved, and their bodies were covered to varying degrees by the intricate Sak Yant tattoos Leo had seen on Sura the night before. Lines of text down their shoulders and backs. Words and animal figures inked on their forearms. Many bore the tiger that Niran wore, but he also saw birds and lizards. A crocodile and a dragon. A mythical figure with four arms carrying swords. Each man seemed to have slightly different markings, much like Irin scribes.

“You have questions,” Niran said.

“I do,” Leo said. “If you are willing to answer them. Is Sura joining us?”

“He’ll be here soon,” Niran said. “Perhaps you might save your questions about Sak Yant for Sura.” He turned to Alyah. “Any other questions the Bangkok scribe house has, I can answer.”

“Would you share with us how you obtained freedom from the Fallen who sired you?” she asked.

“I can. My brother Sura planned our father’s murder without my knowledge. He had been away from our father for many years, and our father had forgotten him as he was not considered a particularly adept warrior. He was too passive.”

“Who was he?” Alyah asked. “My watcher would like his name for our records.”

Niran hesitated, but only for a moment. “His name was Tenasserim.”

The name wasn’t familiar to Leo, but both Alyah and Ginny fell silent.

“Your brother’s plan must have been very good,” Alyah said, “to kill such a powerful Fallen.”

“It was.”

“We heard rumors that Tenasserim was dead, but we had no confirmation.”

“It happened nearly thirteen years ago.” Sura spoke from the edge of the garden.

Leo was surprised by the strength of Sura’s hearing and wondered where Tenasserim’s power had manifested. Every angel had particular gifts. Barak, Kyra’s father, had been a listener. He’d been created to roam the heavens and the earth, acting as the ears of the Creator. Some of that preternatural hearing was passed to his offspring. It was possible Tenasserim’s power was similar. Or it was possible Sura had excellent natural hearing.

Sura approached the table and bowed to them. “Forgive me. I was in the middle of performing a ritual on a brother.”

“The Sak Yant?” Ginny asked.

“Indeed.” He sat and folded his legs beneath him. “And we are complete. Five is better than four.”

Alyah and Niran nodded.

“You were asking about our father,” Sura continued. “He was very powerful. He also had very powerful enemies. I used those enemies to our advantage, informing my brothers Niran and Kanok of the plan only when it was already in progress.” Sura smiled at the brother who poured him a steaming cup of tea. “Kanok died in the fight. Tenasserim was killed. That is all you need to know.”

Niran said, “Sura wears his modesty like a robe. It was he who killed our father. Not rival Grigori. His hand was the only one with the strength of will.”

“And yet our brother was killed,” Sura said. “Let us not forget that.”

Leo could see Sura blamed himself. “You freed your sisters,” he said. “Your brother’s sacrifice was a worthy one.”