The Singers of Nevya Read Online Free PDF Page B

comfort in the familiar routine, seeing Mkel and Cathrin at their table in the center of the room, with Maestra Lu and the other teachers next to them. The students, Isbel’s class and the two lower levels, all sat together at one side. Their tunics were drab, but their faces and eyes were bright. The air was thick with their silent chatter, for those who could hear it. At the other side of the room, the colorfully dressed Housemen and women conversed aloud, in the rich blend of Gifted and unGifted that was Conservatory.
    Who is next, do you think? Kevn, one of the third-level students sent to the group.
    No one for a while, I hope . This was Jana, the youngest of their level. It is too soon.
    Not too soon for Sira — I mean, Cantrix Sira , Kevn responded.
    Maybe it was, though, Jana sent back. She is still not a strong healer. And not close to four summers.
    Closer than you! Kevn teased, and Jana smiled.
    Isbel smiled, too, but the sadness of the afternoon flooded over her again. She looked down the table at her classmates, her friends. There are so few of us , she mused.
    Kevn looked at her, his smile fading. Only one for each House. A heavy responsibility.
    They were all silent for a moment; only the first-level class was oblivious to the turn their conversation had taken. No one needed to mention that the newest class was even smaller, not even one young Singer for each of the thirteen Houses. Isbel felt, somehow, that her memory of her mother and the students’ concern over small classes were in some way connected, but she couldn’t think how. She shook her head, frustrated, and saw that Kevn was watching her.
    What is it? he asked.
    I do not know,  she sent. Something I was thinking of earlier, but it is gone now.
    Kevn turned away to tease Jana. Isbel tried to join in the general conversation, but as one of the oldest students, she felt she hardly fit in anymore. When she pushed away her keftet and rose from the table, she was surprised to see Magister Mkel’s eyes on her. He smiled gently, and she bowed. She knew he understood that she missed Sira, and that she shared his concern over her friend’s assignment. As she left the great room, she felt heavy with the burden of the Gift, a weight that could never be put down.
    She looked back as she reached the door. The students and the teachers in their plain tunics, together with the House members in vivid red and green and blue, made a lively scene in the bright light of Conservatory’s quiru . They had gathered almost all of them, for the quirunha earlier. After the evening meal some would go to their family apartments, others to the ubanyor or ubanyix . Some would stay here to talk and tell stories, one of Isbel’s favorite pastimes. She hoped Sira found the atmosphere at Bariken as congenial, but however pleasant Bariken was, Sira would feel as they all did, that Conservatory was home. It was now lost to her for years to come. Before long it would be lost to all of them.

    Sira, her hair carefully bound and her filhata impeccably tuned and shining with fresh oil, waited for Cantrix Magret outside the Cantoris. Memories of Conservatory quirunhas rose in her mind, and she pictured the Cantoris there, an austere room, with rows of plain ironwood benches filled with students, teachers, and visitors. They would be silent, concentrating, preparing to support the Cantors in their work.
    Usually two Singers worked together in the Cantoris, although there could be more. At Lamdon, the capital House, there might be as many as four at the daily quirunha . Lamdon was famed for the intensity of its House quiru and the abundance of Singer energy it could expend.
    Cantrix Magret appeared now, smiling at her junior, and led the way into the Cantoris. Sira looked around curiously.
    There was only a scattering of people, all in dark clothing, seated on ornately carved benches. They were chattering and laughing as if this were a social occasion. There were none of the vivid