The Silent: Irin Chronicles Book Five(69)

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay.” She smiled. “Now you look like the nervous one.”

“You have no idea.”



Ginny sat across from Kyra, both resting cross-legged in the lotus position. Leo watched them from the side, surprised when a low, droning song came from Ginny’s throat. Her song sounded like the wind through trees. Her palm thumped on the wooden floor in a steady rhythm as her power began to fill the air. It was unlike any singing Leo had heard, completely unlike Irina singing he’d heard from Sari and Ava.

Of course.

Though the Old Language was the same, Ginny was American, not European. The Irina of North America had been singing long before any European influence came to their shores. Even though Ginny had European blood, her teachers would likely have been indigenous North American Irina.

The song rose and fell in rhythm. He could see Kyra’s face glowing with Ginny’s power, but the song droned on, filling Leo’s chest with an intense longing. Something in his heart listened and understood what his mind did not.

This is how it will be.

Her song will give you life.

Her voice will lift you from darkness.

Find her voice.

Leo was a scribe of tradition and duty, but his mandate was no longer to obey his watcher first. His mission was to help his mate find her voice. She was a daughter of heaven, redolent with power. One day he would hear her sing as Ginny did. As Alyah did. As Sari did. In her own voice—in the voice heaven had given her—Kyra’s song would rise, and Leo would hear it.

“Vash shanda vet.

Vash vet Urielda. Vash vet Rafaelta.

Kulme shanda vet e livah.

Kulme vet. Oh Kulva vet.

Oh vet Urielda vashama.”

Leo felt tears roll down his cheeks, his heart pounding with the beauty and power of Ginny’s song. She called on Uriel, who gave the gift of life to all Irin sons and daughters. She called on Rafael’s healing.

Ginny was Rafaene. Like his mother.

That was why her life-giving songs were so potent. She was a healer of Rafael’s line. It was probably also why she didn’t want to work within the scribe house power structure. Healers had a tendency to be the independent sort. Even among scribes, they were given special dispensation from combat for long periods of time.

Ginny was a healer, and she was healing Kyra before his eyes.

Kyra’s face was luminous. Her eyes were closed, and he could see her pale skin glow with a golden light, as if Ginny’s power was radiating from the sun. It wasn’t unheard of. Leo had heard that Rafael’s line thrived in sunlight and avoided areas of the world with long periods of darkness.

He didn’t know how long she sang, only that as time passed, he could feel the power leaving Ginny—the manic energy she so often radiated—and feel it enter Kyra. He felt Kyra’s energy reaching out toward his like gold threads that entangled him. He didn’t realize he’d moved closer to her until their knees were touching. He stared at her. Her eyes were closed. Her face was lifted.

A hand patted his shoulder.

He blinked and looked up. Ginny was standing over him.

“Give her a little time to wake,” she whispered. “She’ll be fine. Her livah is very strong, but her mind is binding with her body right now. When she wakes, she’ll be very awake, if you know what I mean.”

Leo felt drunk by proximity. “What?”

Ginny patted his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Have fun.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you back in Chiang Mai.”

“Okay.”

“Lock the door behind me. You won’t want to be disturbed.”

In a daze, Leo did as she told him, sliding the large wooden block across the door of the bungalow. Ginny had already closed the shades and lit candles before the ritual. The room was bathed in a gold glow, shadows softening the edges of Leo’s vision until everything he saw felt like a dream. He turned back to Kyra and realized her eyes were open.

Her eyes were more than open. They were on fire.





Chapter Nineteen





Come to me, reshon.

Kyra said the words in her mind, but Leo obeyed them as if she’d spoken. He walked over and picked her up off the ground, lifting her as she thrilled in his strength. Most days, when she looked at Leo, she saw his smile first. His gentle eyes. The kindness in his expression.

That night, she saw the corded muscles in his arms and shoulders, the firm set of his jaw, his narrow hips and strong thighs.

She was ravenous with desire. She wanted to consume him. She had no thought of herself or her own body. No self-consciousness. No nerves. She only knew her body hungered and it was for him.

As soon as he set her down on the bed and knelt beside her, she sat up, grasping the end of his white linen shirt and pulling up. He raised his arms and helped her as she undressed him. Her mouth found its way to his shoulder and she licked out, tracing the lines of his talesm with her tongue. His skin was hot and alive with magic. His marks were glowing, and she knew it was because of the power suffusing the air. It surrounded them like the scent of flowers and incense. Smoke from a fire that burned inside.

“Kyra, slow down. Breathe.”

“No. Off.” She tugged at his waistband. “Skin. I want your skin. I need it.”