Page 68 - DivineSparkRising II-TheMirrorofSilenceFinal

Divine Spark Rising
Carolina looked up sharply. “Same frequency,”
she said.
He nodded. “Only older.”
They disembarked into a chaos of voices —
French, Arabic, Spanish, English — each thread
looping through the humid air, weaving a
soundscape that felt alive. And yet, beneath it all,
Henry felt that familiar undercurrent, the faint
pulse of a silence trying to learn their names.
2. As Vozes Sem Fio
They found their contact in a café at the edge of
the medina, its windows fogged with mint steam. A
man with a narrow beard and a cracked radio on
his table waved them over.
“You’re late,” he said in Portuguese so fluent it
surprised Henry. “And you brought the weather.”
Carolina smiled faintly. “We were told to ask for
the Wireless Voices.”
He tapped the radio. “We are everywhere and
nowhere. You can call me Hafid. You can trust me
only halfway.”
“Halfway’s more than we get from most,”
Henry said.
Hafid grinned, teeth like ivory keys. “Then you
will like Tangier. It was built for half-truths. Come.”
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