Page 125 - DivineSparkRising II-TheMirrorofSilenceFinal

Nicholas Boothman
Aleph folded thumb to palm: Escort. Two
fingers drew a circle, then cut it: Curator. He
tapped his sternum twice: Obey.
Henry’s throat burned. “You don’t obey,” he
said, gently furious. “You never did.”
Aleph’s mouth softened at the edges — the
ghost of a smile from another life. He touched
finger to temple, then drew a line downward
through air like a blade falling: Removed. Then two
hands outward, palms empty: Peace.
Carolina’s voice broke. “She took your voice to
sell you peace.”
He answered with two small movements that
said Necessary and Efficient.
Something old and ugly shook loose inside
Henry. “You used to tell me efficiency was just
cruelty with better manners.”
Aleph’s eyes claimed Henry fully, the way they
had when they argued across a lab bench over tea
gone cold. He lifted his hand and wrote with it,
invisible on invisible air: three fast strokes, a pause,
a downward curve. Carolina inhaled sharply.
“That’s Coimbra,” she said. “Your shorthand.”
Henry swallowed. “Álvaro. If there’s anything
left of you under that obedience — help us get to
the core.”
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