CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Apply yourself with grace to all you do.

For it will serve as sword and shield

when winds of dissonance blow steadily near

and you find yourself with nothing else to cling to.

—THE HARMONY OF BEING

Sirens echo, ringing in Ulani’s ears as she rushes down the street toward the theater’s basement again. Raven scurries along on his little puppy legs behind her, not wanting to be left behind. The last time the wraiths came, she didn’t get a chance to see any of them. Tana told her how scary they were, but she would still rather see for herself. She’s seen Mooriah, but knows that somehow these spirits are going to be different. All she wants is a peek, but Mama’s got a tight hold on one hand, and with Papa on her other side, hurrying along, there’s no way she’ll get a chance.

Tana has already gone off to fight with the Poison Flame. Ulani wishes she could fight, too, but she has an important job to do. Papa told her that sometimes you need a sword and sometimes you need a shield—Ulani is the shield.

They arrive at the theater to find the basement doors wide open. Down the creaking steps and then they’re in a space that feels much smaller than it did a few days ago. There are so many more people here.

“It worked,” Mama says, surprised.

Lots of people Ulani doesn’t know stand alongside familiar faces from around the neighborhood. She opens her Song and fills herself up with Earthsong. It feels bubbly and tickles just a little bit. Excitement sparkles in her belly.

But fear pushes against her Song, thick and dark like molasses. Mama is a little bit relieved and a little bit something else—it’s a feeling Ulani doesn’t have a word for, sort of like waiting for something good to happen, but also thinking it may really turn out bad.

Papa towers over her like a tree giving shade. She presses into his leg to keep from being shuffled around as more and more people run down the steps. Raven steps on her feet, never far away. Outside, the alarm still screams.

“Who’s the Earthsinger?” someone yells.

“Who’s going to protect us?”

Mama starts shouting orders, telling everyone to line up and hold hands. Ulani won’t have to touch any strangers, Mama and Papa will be on either side of her, and everyone else will link hands with them.

“We’re supposed to rely on that little girl?” an old man says. Ulani doesn’t know him, but his hair looks like broom bristles and a sludge of panic clings to him.

“She’s a very strong Singer,” Mama says. “If you don’t trust her to help, then you’re welcome to take your chances out there.” She points to the staircase and the man steps back.

Outside, the sirens stop. Ulani takes her parents’ hands, closes her eyes, and focuses on her Song. Holding in the Earthsong is like holding in a sneeze that never comes out. She does as Fenix taught her and creates a kind of bubble to protect them. Only it’s not a bubble, and she can only pass it through people who are connected to her. It would be better to go around, but that’s not how it works.

But something is wrong. The bubble isn’t spreading out the way it’s supposed to. “Someone isn’t holding hands,” she whispers.

Mama jerks, probably looking around. Ulani’s eyes are still closed. She’s trying to force the spell through the barrier it’s hit. It’s kind of like pouring water through a series of funnels connected to each other, except that one of the funnels doesn’t have an opening on the end. She can’t reach the one below it.

The room is getting hot with all these people here. Sweat pools on her back and beads her forehead. Raven sitting on her toes makes her shoes feel like an oven; she struggles not to lose her concentration.

Then Papa yells like he’s surprised and his hand rips away from hers. Raven barks and Mama wrenches away, too, and the top funnel is completely blocked. She opens her eyes.

It takes a second to understand that both of her parents are fighting people. Papa with his fists and Mama with the little wooden club she keeps in her bag, the one she told Ulani and Tana never to touch. The man Papa keeps punching is Elsiran, kind of skinny, but with a mean face. Mama swings her club at the older man attacking her and a loud crunch sounds as his arm breaks. Raven growls, standing right in front of her and pushing her backward.

People are screaming but everything is too loud to understand what they’re saying. She knows the fighting men are angry, angry at her.

“The True Father wants the Lagrimari,” another man screams from the middle of the confused jumble of people. He races toward Ulani, his feelings sharper than a thornbush. She shrinks back as Raven snarls, but the puppy is too little to do much damage and both Papa and Mama are fighting new Elsiran men—the first two are already on the ground, one moaning in pain, the other still as a stone.

She’s frozen with fear, not sure what to do, when an older Lagrimari man she’s seen at the market lunges for the man coming toward her. He tackles the Elsiran and sits on his chest. Two Elsiran women help to hold the attacker’s arms and legs as he flails, shouting, “We’re safer without the grols! Let the True Father have them!”

The man fighting Papa falls, and Papa swings around, grabbing Ulani and lifting her up. Two more angry red-haired men begin to shout about grols, but they can’t push their way through the tight mass of people.

Mama knocks another angry man in the head with her club and stands there panting, looking around, madder than a homeless hornet.

Ulani closes her eyes, Papa’s arms are tight bands of safety encircling her. “There’s two more angry men here,” she whispers. “But they’re waiting.”

He repeats this to Mama who begins speaking in Lagrimari to someone. Ulani senses two men being pulled from the crowd and brought forward. Their energy feels like a deep, dark hole, sad and bitter and endless. Someone shouts that they’ve found some rope in the corner and all the men who wanted to fight are quickly tied up.

“Zann Biddel planted his people in the shelters,” Mama says into Papa’s ear.

“What did he think he was doing?” Papa asks.

“I don’t know. Sacrifice the Lagrimari to the True Father, barter for peace that way? Only one of them is talking, the rest are staying silent. Loyal to their leader to the end.”

A shiver races down Ulani’s spine and she opens her eyes to look up toward the door. “Link hands!” she yells.

A dark column of smoke emerges through the wood of the closed doors. It hovers over the stairs and the people rush and leap, falling over themselves to join up.

Ulani is still in Papa’s arms with Mama pressed in close. Hands shoot out to grab any part of their neighbor they can, arms, shoulders, heads, feet. She pours the spell through funnel after funnel, protecting everyone who’s touching, hoping she can reach them all in time.

But something startles her and the trickle of protection wobbles, though it still flows through the funnels. A lady is staring at her from across the room. She’s really a girl, a skinny teenager with long, red braids. Her eyes are hot coals, and Ulani missed her anger because it wasn’t thick and slimy like the men’s. It’s lighter, like a cloud of poison.

The dark spirit hovers above them all, looking for someone to attack. But even the men tied up on the floor are in the funnel, they’re being pressed down with feet on their chests.

The angry girl is linked to those on either side of her, but continues to stare daggers at Ulani. The funnel holds and everyone here is part of it, until the girl releases both her hands, pulling herself out of the chain. Her neighbors are safe because the funnel is a circle, the person on their other side keeps them a part of it, but the girl with the braids is at risk. No one dares move out of the chain to grab her, just about everyone else is focused on the spirit floating overhead.

The angry girl grips something in her hand that Ulani can’t see. Hatred pours from her like smoke from a chimney. Meanwhile, the spirit swoops down, angling for the one unprotected person. With one hand around Papa’s neck, Ulani reaches toward the girl, who’s racing forward, lifting her arm.

Raven lunges forward directly into the girl’s path, but she kicks him viciously. Tears form in Ulani’s eyes as he rolls away, whimpering. The thing in the girl’s hand is a rock. She’s still too far away for Ulani to reach, too far away to protect. The spirit arrows toward her, a breath away from her skin as she lunges forward.

Papa twists, turning Ulani away from the blow, putting himself in its path. The fist with the rock hits Papa’s head just as the spirit starts to breach the girl’s body. But the girl joins the funnel when she touches Papa. The spirit can’t penetrate and bounces off.

Papa stumbles and begins to fall. Ulani feels his pain as if it’s her own.

Mama grabs his arm on his way down, and the man next to him lunges for his leg. They’re all still connected, though Ulani lays in a heap on top of him. The girl howls as feet from all around press her body into the cold ground.

Ulani has to focus on the funnels. The spirit arcs and dives overhead, still threatening. Other spirits slide through the walls, seeking hosts to infect. The room is soon darkened by their presence.

Papa’s head is bleeding. She wishes she could fix it, but she’s not sure if she can split her focus. She doesn’t want to risk it, but he’s sleeping a kind of sleep that isn’t really sleep and it’s giving her a bad feeling. Raven limps over and licks Ulani’s cheeks, tasting her tears.

She’s sorry she wanted to see a spirit so badly—she takes it back. She wants them to go away so she can heal her father. They have to go away soon so she can make sure he wakes up.