Page 116 - DivineSparkRising II-TheMirrorofSilenceFinal

Divine Spark Rising
The word clean pealed through Berlin and
Tokyo and Toronto like a bell underwater. In
kitchens and trains and desks, words lost their
corners and slid off the page. People reached for
sentences and their hands closed on light. Some sat
down and smiled—tired, relieved. Some knelt and
wept because there is a grief older than language
and still true without it.
Henry watched a feed from a Lisbon street he
recognized. A café server he loved for her
comfortable rudeness stood with a tray in her
hands and did not move for sixty seconds. Then
she set the tray down and, very carefully, held the
hand of a stranger she did not know and both of
them cried. The sound was not recorded but it
existed. He put his forehead to the radio and
decided not to despair.
Carolina’s voice shook. “We can’t win city by
city.”
“No,” Henry said. “We go to the source. Under
the Tejo.”
Zhara didn’t argue. “You’ll need a door,” she
said. “Jinji will open it and the Curator will try to
close it on your throat.”
116