Heartfelt Sounds Read Online Free PDF Page B

assistance. In her hand floats one of the strange energies I saw from before—but this one is free. It dances about the breadth of her palm to its own ghostly rhythm.

6. Glass Messages
    Akane watches me eye the strange energy bobbing in her palm from my seat.
    “Look—I promise I'll explain everything, okay? But this lady won't stop crying and it's getting in the way of my work!”
    I blink once. Twice. The sides of my lips twitching with unanswered questions. Quickly, I nod.
    Only now do I notice her hair is not free, but pulled high onto her head in a tail. She's exchanged her skirt for leather breeches and her long tunic is white instead of green. The hand that held the bulb of energy is naked, the other gloved. When she turns her back towards me, I make out the symbol of a thinly painted swan taking flight between her shoulder blades. It is small. Almost unnoticeable—easy to miss.
    I follow her out to the alleyway. She takes a left.
    The street opens up to me. All bright light and loud people. Merchant stalls are set up to my right, bright colors staining the dome shaped coverings. Opposite the stalls on this side of the street, sit two more that mimic them. Some sell fruit. Others, clothing. I recognize Shanti's fabric in one of the stalls, but I can't stop to look as Akane approaches the bay window of the parlor and strides right past it. Some spaces after the window is a hanging sign attached to the wooden wall. I see the symbol of a sword. Two wings grow from its steel, and the sign screeches in a slight wind. The chains it hangs from rattle. The street seems to spin around me when Akane's under the sign. She rips open a burgundy door and lets herself in—but holds it open for me. I keep close to the wall. Brush my hand alongside it—letting it guide me as I avoid the mass of foot traffic. The people—so many people. They're like a cloud—thick and massive in size. Overwhelming. I catch my breath as I grasp hold of the door's arch, pulling myself inside.
    I feel like I have entered a temple.
    Though the room is small and windowless, on every wall a tall candelabra carries a tiny flame that burns bright. White flame brings painted tigers to life as they prowl the dark walls, along with depictions of crystal rivers and bleak plains. Before me, two tigers bow low to a swan outlined in heavy black on a gray background. On the floor, lies a thin sword. Chima rises over it, the girl on her knees. Her head bowed as she chants lightly.
    Low moans wrap around my ears when I let them and I turn my gaze to the left. More tigers. A river with no swan—but a woman digs her palms into her eyes as her gray hair tumbles over her shoulders like crashing sea foam. A gown depicting silver feathers on a white background shivers about her as she trembles. She is small. Frail.
    “I've seen what you do to Shanti.” Akane whispers, her free hand on my shoulder. “She used to be a… very hard woman, Naia. Hard to deal with. But around you, it's like she changes .”
    Chima stops mid-chant. Rises her head to look. Blushes and averts her eyes.
    “And then there's her, who can't control her face when she's around you.” Akane snickers. Chima chants lightly once more—stammering more frequently. “I think you can help Miss Santo—maybe you have a way with people. Ever think about that, Naia?”
    I shake my head. “I knew Shanti before—we're old acquaintances…” and I've never known her to be a hard woman. Even though my memories of her are few—I remember her being matronly. “And then, Chima…” could I explain away her reaction to me? I shake my head—closing my eyes. Opening them, I look into Akane's face. “…there's no way—I'm just—,” could I even define myself? “—I'm just a maid!—”
    But she cuts me off. “Try. There's no harm in trying. If I can't do my job, we don't eat. So stop her tears—or at least, try.”
    And she shoves me towards the crying woman.
    I breathe—slowly. Steadily.
    Miss