Page 211 - DivineSparkRising II-TheMirrorofSilenceFinal

Nicholas Boothman
here. The mirror did not like the smear. It tried to
erase. The oval insisted.
Sofia’s voice sighed, a mother worn by a child’s
stubborn goodness.
“You keep choosing mess.”
“Because it’s ours,” Henry said.
Carolina climbed another step and, to her own
surprise, laughed — not at Sofia, not at the Mirror
— at herself. At the audacity of believing the right
sentence could save anyone. The laugh was soft
and unmarketable. The lamp dimmed half a
heartbeat.
Sera pressed two fingers to the brass stud at the
dais edge and pulsed the alphabet into metal —
present, with, hold. The water’s surface shivered
and remembered it was river, not mirror.
The Curator’s cadence faltered. Permission met
permission that did not return it.
4. The Exchange
“Show him,” Carolina said. “Serpa. If he can
see.”
The mirror hesitated — an algorithm arguing
with a ritual. Then the surface shifted. Not a live
feed, not a perfect image. But there: a man in a
narrow cell below the cistern, chalk in hand, slate
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