Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“They’re the wrong tool for the job.” I glance up at the gate. “We must try, at least. A concert, for all these people who came this far? And surely you’re willing to share your gifts if they might open this more direct trade route to the Kingdom of the South? And I know I’m right, this is a better way down there.”
Thale inclines his head. “It’s true. It would be much faster.”
“And we are used to sharing our talents,” the raven-haired one says with a seductive smile. “If you want us to sing at this wall, why not.”
She takes the hand of her blond friend and saunters forward. There are some soft words between them and then they nod at each other. With the sunlight streaming down, and the pink and turquoise dresses, they’re like part of a rainbow come to rest in the midst of all the lead shot, axe-heads, and iron hammers.
They take a couple of deep breaths. Then there’s a pause filled by the restless crowd chattering.
I glance at Merc once again. He’s staring at me, as if two beautiful women in bodices that accentuate their assets are not standing a length away from him—
The women start to sing, their voices rising and falling to a tune that is chipper and lively. The harmonizing skips along the cliffs and redoubles, until the song comes alive as if a hundred voices are carrying these words I do not understand—
“No, no.” I cut them off, waving my hands. “It’s lovely, but—”
The women fall silent and glare at me.
“One note.” I wish I could look them in the eyes to make my point. “Just one. As loud and high and long as you possibly can.”
I remember how Sallae Mae used to do it, focusing her voice on the rim of the glass, singing in a prolonged, steady way until—
“On three,” I tell the women. “One … two…”
As I get to three, I point at them.
There’s only annoyed silence. Until Thale orders sharply, “Do as she says.”
“One,” I repeat. “Two … and three.”
On my command, they both strike a note, high and loud and clean. “More!” I yell over the sound. “And project it at the barrier!”
I slap my hand on the pane, and I can feel the vibration. “Yes! It’s working! Keep going—”
They run out of air almost as soon as they start, and take deep breaths to recover. All around, the crowd shifts on their feet.
“We need to try again.” I look over toward my horse. “And we need one more voice.”
Sixty-Six
Breaking Barriers.
Leaving the Crystal Gate, I approach Lalah. “You must join them—”
The girl’s eyes bulge with fear and she clasps the collection of reins close to her heart. “Oh, mistress, no—”
I lower my voice, so that only she can hear. “You sang, outside of my room, right after we checked in. It was beautiful, and higher notes than the two of them reach now. Please. Sing—not for them. Sing for me. I must get to the Kingdom of the South, as soon as I can—this is the only way.”
Her head lowers and her shoulders slump—
From behind, her twin appears, and Lalah looks over at the girl. Some kind of wordless communication passes between them, and then Lalah’s shaking hands transfer the reins of the horses to her sister.
The maid retracts into her red felt jacket, and she approaches the ladies as if they have weapons pointed at her.
The black-haired one looks her over. “Come on, then.” She reaches out a hand. “It’ll be all right. We just sing. One note. The three of us.”
The smile that is offered Lalah is nothing like the ones the woman gives anybody else. It’s a gentle, natural expression, without any pretense.
Bethle does the same, leaning around and nodding with echoing kindness. “Just one note. And she’ll tell us when. Big breath, okay? We do this, together.”
Lalah looks back at the crowd with fear.
I step in with them, trying to block out all the people. “Don’t worry about them, Lalah.”
She glances over, and in a meek voice says, “For you.”
I exhale, hating that I’ve put her in this position when she’s so clearly uncomfortable with the attention. But then she takes a deep breath. And another.
“I think we’re ready?” When I get nods all around, I start again. “One … two…”
Lalah takes an inhale with the other pair.
“Three.”
The women start off high and loud and lean forward as if they’re pushing the sound at the barrier, and as I tilt in and put my palm upon the crystal pane, I can feel the vibration start again. They hold the note harder and longer than before—
The raven-haired woman gives out first, her face flushing, her cleavage heaving as she recovers. Then Bethle has to stop, and she’s clearly dizzy from the effort, throwing her hand out to catch her balance.