The Silent: Irin Chronicles Book Five(78)
“He’d be drawn to her,” Kyra said.
Do you see it yet?
Kyra blinked. “Vasu visited me.”
“I know,” Leo said. “He kissed you too.”
“What?” She shook her head. “Don’t distract me. There was something about seeing the music. I bet he did show Intira something. Did you ever visit her cottage?”
Leo shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”
“She had… numbers. Equations? I don’t know much about math, but can music be written with numbers? Is that possible?”
Leo frowned. “Music is pitch. Frequency. Tempo and rhythm. Harmonies are all based on mathematical ratios. I wouldn’t know how to write it, but if you assigned numbers to certain notes, I imagine it would be possible.”
“Intira’s room was covered in equations. Maybe it’s something she invented for herself. Maybe it’s something Vasu showed her. Or a combination of the two. But is it possible that Intira is hearing something and Vasu showed her a way of writing it down?”
“What would she be hearing?” Leo said.
“I don’t know.” Kyra looked at Leo’s hand holding her own.
Do you see it yet?
Kyra whispered, “Let my hand go.”
“The noise—”
“It’s not noise.” She dropped his hand, put her fingers to her temples, and closed her eyes. “Vasu told me.” She closed her eyes, and instead of focusing on her walls, Kyra threw her mind open. She ignored the ambient voices and focused on the low, humming background frequency. The “scratch” in her mind.
She focused on it and really listened.
The low, grinding notes moved slowly, but they pulsed with an aching, slow rhythm punctuated by screeching higher tones.
“It’s not noise,” she said again. “It’s music.”
It wasn’t beautiful music. It was more akin to wind or waves than anything else. But there were notes. There were rhythms. Was this what Intira was seeing in her mind? Why would she want to show it to Prija?
Kyra kept her eyes closed and reached her hand out. Leo immediately took it, and the creaking sound ceased. “I think the Fallen have their own music,” she said. “I think they… resonate somehow, and I think Intira has seen it. That’s what she was weaving.” Kyra looked at the blanket woven with mottled stars. “She was weaving the music of the Fallen.”
Niran stared at Sura. “You taught her math. What do you think? Is it possible?”
Sura shook his head. “I taught her the basics of algebra since she seemed so interested in it, but she surpassed my knowledge long ago. I just try to find her books now. I have no idea if what she’s writing in all those notebooks amounts to music.” Sura looked at Leo. “You say this looks like some kind of ancient musical notation?”
Leo nodded. “I doubt she’s seen it. But if she can hear the notes somehow and see the ratios of the harmonies—understand the music on a mathematical level—would it be that big a leap for her to write it down if someone showed her a code to do so? Kyra has been hearing the Fallen her whole life; she didn’t realize it was music.”
Kyra said, “What I’ve been hearing sounded like noise. No pattern. But when I listen closer—especially being so close to Arindam for days now—it does have a pattern. It’s music. Just… really horrible music.”
Leo said, “So if Intira has heard this angel and understands the music and the harmonies on a mathematical level, she could write it down given the proper language.” He held up the weaving. “Which this appears to be.”
Alyah said, “But who would…” She grimaced. “Vasu. Of course.”
“Vasu was around when Hurrian notation came into being,” Leo said. “It’s possible there was even angelic origin. Maybe it was something they weren’t supposed to share but did anyway.”
“The Fallen have lots of knowledge they could share and don’t,” Niran said bitterly.
“Part of the bargain,” Leo said. “The Forgiven were allowed to share because they left the earth alone.”
“And the Fallen stay and wreak havoc,” Niran said. “What does that have to do with me? I’m damned to ignorance by your people simply by virtue of my birth.”
“Stop,” Kyra said. “This isn’t the time for arguments like this.”
“It’s never the time,” Niran said. “Not according to the Irin.”
Rith, the silent scribe who wore the black blade, spoke from the corner. “I’ve fought Fallen before. I have killed an angel. The music this little one sees is… interesting, but how does it help us kill Arindam? Because from what I’ve seen so far, this isn’t a lone angel. He has children around him. Defenses. This is someone encroaching on Vasu’s territory. Killing him will be nearly impossible with seven warriors.” He glanced at Kyra. “And we don’t even have seven if we’re being honest.”
Kyra ignored the insult because Rith was correct. She wasn’t a true warrior. She was good for finding the Fallen. Good for pinpointing locations. But she wasn’t a warrior.
Sura said, “There is such a thing as natural frequency. Can we assume it has a magical component? Do each of the Fallen have some kind of natural frequency? Is that what you’re saying?”