The Silent: Irin Chronicles Book Five(57)

Domem livah.

Domem manah.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Give thanks for each breath. Give thanks for each moment of peace. She swallowed her anger again.

And again.

She was silent.

Seven breaths later, she felt Alyah sit next to her. The angry part of Kyra wanted to kick her out of the room. The pragmatic survivor needed her to stay and give her magic. Alyah took Kyra’s hand and began to sing in a low voice. It was a tonal chant, dipping and weaving over words Kyra didn’t recognize. As she sang, Kyra felt the energy touch her and spread like oil over water. It rippled over her and sank beneath her skin. She felt luminous and strong.

Her soul wept at the beauty of it. She longed to weave power like this, as Bun Ma wove thread in her loom. As Alyah sang, Kyra listened to the notes climb up and down, measured steps in a heavenly dance.

She fell asleep.



Vasu crouched before her. “Do you see it yet?”

“See what?” Kyra opened her eyes.

She was in her bungalow, but everything was hazy. The vibrant colors had leached from the room. Vasu sat back on his heels and peered at her like a curious bird.

She blinked. He was a raven.

She blinked again. A cat.

“Will you stop?” she said. “One form is confusing enough.”

He shifted back to the beautiful man with the heavy-lidded eyes. “Do you see it yet?”

“See what?”

Vasu sighed. “Children are so much wiser than adults.”

“Not usually.”

“Yes, they are. The little one saw it immediately. Like stars, she said. A perfect geometry.”

The little one… “Are you talking about Intira? Have you been talking to her?”

“Her mind is a very interesting place.”

Kyra spoke in a firm voice. “Stay away from Intira.”

Vasu frowned. “No.”

The petulant expression reminded Kyra that she wasn’t dealing with a typical angel. There was something intensely childlike about Vasu, a brightness and curiosity her father had never exhibited. Vasu was like the naughty child who dropped a rock on another child’s finger. It wasn’t cruelty. It felt more like curiosity. Of course, it was curiosity without moral restraint.

Kyra understood amoral creatures. She had been raised among the Fallen.

“Vasu, you must stay away from Intira. Her mind is young and impressionable.”

“I know.”

“But think,” she said carefully. “If you visit her too often, she may soon mirror your thoughts and not her own. Then what makes her interesting and unique will be spoiled. Her mind should remain her own. That is what makes her wise.”

Vasu crossed his legs and sat in front of her. “You may have some insight.”

“Is that why you visited me?” It wasn’t the first time she’d been visited by a Fallen. Her father had sat in her dreams when she was young. Sometimes he felt benevolent. Mostly he felt cold.

“I visited you…” Vasu cocked his head again. “Why did I visit you?”

“I don’t know, Vasu.”

He closed his eyes. “Oh!” They popped open. “Do you see it yet?”

“That question still makes no sense to me.”

“The music.” He leaned forward and exhaled a hot breath over her lips. “You have to see the music.”

“You’re not making sense. You don’t see music, you hear it.”

“I do make sense; you just don’t see. But you will.”

His presence was so heated she felt her body react. She didn’t like it but knew the reaction had little to do with Vasu’s intention. Angels were seductive by nature.

“What do you want, Vasu? What do you hope to gain by this meddling?”

He sat up straight but said nothing.

Vasu had been allied with both Jaron and Barak. Jaron and Barak had both returned to heaven.

“Do you think it worked?” Kyra asked quietly. Were they redeemed?

Vasu saw inside her mind. “I have no way of knowing.”

There was a note of longing in his voice. She felt it more than she heard it.

“Are you lonely?” she asked.

“If I was, daughter of Barak, what would you do to remedy me?” Vasu leaned forward and captured her lips.

Vasu’s kiss was heated and lush. Honey and saffron. Sweet milk and raisins. Kyra opened her mouth and pulled away, taking the angel’s breath into her lungs. Vasu captured her chin and held her, forcing her eyes to his. His gaze was not cruel, but the power in it filled her heart with dread.

“You have nothing to fear from me,” Vasu whispered. “You do not carry the thing I need, Barak’s daughter, but you may take this gift anyway.”

Kyra blinked and he was gone.

She woke in the bungalow, still sitting in the corner where she meditated, tears rolling down her cheeks and the taste of honey in her mouth.



Leo found her hours later, still sitting in the corner. He carried a tray into the bungalow and set it beside her.

“Alyah said she sang to you. She said you might be tired. She apologized as well. Did she offend you?” He sat beside her and stroked her hair back from her forehead. “I didn’t want to disturb you when you didn’t come to dinner, but I thought you might be hungry.”