Caprion's Wings Read Online Free PDF Page A

fast,” he muttered.
    Florentine nodded. “Esta spoke to your
brother yesterday, and he went down to the pub to announce it. He
might have done you a favor. He tackled the gossip head-on before
it could spread out of control.”
    Caprion glanced at the
ground, his throat tightening in anger. Sumas doesn’t give favors, he
thought. No, his brother had confronted the gossip to protect his
own name. Caprion could imagine how that little announcement
went. “My younger brother has failed
again. We taught him all we could, and now his time has passed. You
know what they say—no star can open a bad seed!”
    And then a chorus of men
and women would have answered him: “And
bad seeds bear no fruit!”
    Caprion shook his head slowly. "Why
are you telling me this?" he asked.
    Florentine gazed at him, her head
tilting to one side. Her eyes were a clear, pale yellow. Finally,
she shrugged. “Sumas is a difficult brother to have, I imagine. His
aura is red, heavy, lots of vitality and aggression. You're more of
a light blue, though I see a lot of gold around your shoulders―a
noble heart, it signifies. And around your head is a purple,
grayish cloud. Something troubling you?”
    Caprion resisted the urge to grimace.
"It's true that I failed the Singing," he said, moving to the
couch, his feet weary from standing. Florentine glided forward
gracefully and took the opposite chair. "But I don't understand
why. The Madrigal said I 'fell.'"
    "Ah," Florentine said
knowingly.
    Caprion waited for her to elaborate,
but she didn't. He continued. “I had a dream while I was Singing.
It's never happened before. I mean, I've had similar dreams, but
always while sleeping, not while in the chamber....” He went on to
describe his position on Fury Rock, the black abyss before him, the
stars, and then his wings. And then he described the terrible
consuming darkness and the voice that felt like oil. Finally, he
finished, “The Madrigal told me to seek your help.”
    Florentine nodded again. She set her
tea down and lifted the tuning fork from her neck. “Strange
indeed,” she commented. “This will only take a few minutes, but you
need to sit completely still. Your nose might tickle. Don't scratch
it.”
    Caprion nodded.
    She stood and moved next to him, then
took a small metal pick from her belt and struck the tuning fork,
holding it over Caprion's head. A strange sensation moved through
him, a buzzing vibration, like a swarm of bees. His nasal cavity
hummed and itched. He could feel a strange pressure between his
eyes.
    She struck the tuning fork twice more
over each shoulder, causing prickles of discomfort over his skin.
Then she waited. She watched him closely, studying him, though
Caprion knew she wasn't really seeing his body. She focused on
something just above his head, just left of his arm, just below his
hands.
    Finally, she sat back. “Your energy is
fluctuating rapidly,” she said slowly.
    "What does that mean?" Caprion
asked.
    She frowned. “Well...any physical
object emits a steady vibration, a certain tone that defines it.
For living things, particularly Harpies, sometimes great hardship
can send a ripple through the aura, changing the vibration,
changing the person. One can move to a higher pitch, or a lower
one.” She paused. “It usually happens right after one finds their
wings, before fully adjusting to their new magic. But that's
obviously not the case.” Her eyes narrowed further. “Are you sure
you didn't find your star...?”
    Caprion felt cold at the thought of
his Singing, of the darkness that had swelled through his mind. He
leaned back and folded his arms. “No,” he said bluntly. “I didn't.
No star answered. I feel exactly the same as I always
have.”
    Florentine frowned. “Well... something
is blocking you, or interfering, I can’t say which because your
aura is fluctuating so quickly. I think, perhaps, that the enemy is
in your head, Caprion.” She paused. “The Singing Chamber is a place
of very