Page 150 - DivineSparkRising II-TheMirrorofSilenceFinal

Divine Spark Rising
the shouldn’t-be-said. Some dissolve like sugar.
Some cut. Some wait.”
Carolina lifted Serpa’s J-0 reader, set it in the
center, and looked to Henry. “Let’s try,” she said.
“Not to speak. To live.”
Rita dimmed the lamps a little. People in the
room paused their sorting and sat at the edges,
curious and careful. Sera took the chair opposite
Henry and met his gaze with the seriousness
children bring to first games. Carolina sat between
them, one hand on the reader, one on her own knee
to keep it from shaking.
“What do we do?” Henry asked.
Rita smiled. “Something that cannot be
predicted by text.”
The room seemed to hold its breath with them.
Henry thought of speeches, brilliance, sacrifice.
None of it felt clean. Then he remembered the boy
on Zhara’s stairs asking for the word for the hard
good thing. He remembered the cracked mug on a
copper plate below the city.
He stood. He took off his coat. He folded it onto
the empty chair beside him, the way you save a
seat for someone who hasn’t arrived. He placed his
old blue mug — the one he’d somehow put back
into his bag out of superstition or love — beside it.
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