Page 161 - DivineSparkRising II-TheMirrorofSilenceFinal

Nicholas Boothman
Henry stepped forward and laid the cracked
blue mug on the plinth. He did not look at his
reflection, in any pane. He did not think of
speeches. He thought of the boy on Zhara’s stairs.
He thought of Aleph’s palm on the mirror and the
words ZERO SPEAKS. He thought of Serpa’s blank
line after Result.
He took Carolina’s hand. He took Sera’s. He
lifted their joined hands, then lowered them, then
did it again in the wrong rhythm that had opened
the door before. The action wasn’t graceful. It was
stubborn.
The dome answered. A seam along the apex
loosened a little, just enough to let in a sound that
had always been outside: gulls arguing over a
crust, a tram bell refusing to die, someone in
Alfama singing too early in the evening.
The sentence SAFE IS TRUE smudged, not
erased, like chalk deciding it preferred to be dust.
SAY LESS. DO TRUE remained. Below it, a third
line appeared faintly, as if ashamed to be seen:
HOLD.
Sofia’s silence changed temperature.
“Why worship effort?” she asked, almost tender.
“You could sleep.”
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