The silence on the way home had shaken me. That tone of apology in their texts felt far in the past; their expressions were closed off, and their clothing subtly alienated them from their usual appearance.
They'd taken their capes off, which meant that I had an unobstructed view of their intricate leather breastplates and the layered silver armor on their shoulders and forearms. Beneath, they wore diamond-studded tunics. Their pants were not so different from what they usually wore, but the material was thick, laces crisscrossing along the sides of their calves.
Michael removed the silver circlet from his head and stared at it on his lap.
"One word for you is gold-called," he started slowly. "The gold of the soul realm chose you to be a protector of the dead. Then there's the silver-called. We are chosen in the soul realm to be protectors of the living. The worms there have been our enemies ... for as long as we can remember. Maggots of the earth. They feast by forcing their victims to feel certain strong emotions. Whenever they would catch one of our people, they would influence them to extreme anger, or depression, or delight or some other feeling. Imagine – several dozen people suddenly lie down to cry, not eating or drinking, till they starve themselves to death. Anyone who comes near is felled down by a debilitating misery themselves. Or perhaps a group of people turn on each other in a mad frenzy, or begin laughing hysterically, or – you get the picture. Some worms are worse than others. But they have no effect on the silver-called, so it's on our shoulders to find them wherever they catch our people and kill them ourselves.
"There are more silver-called than gold. And while as far as we know, every priest is called in the same way, silver calls differently. For most of the people it calls, it merely defends against the influence of the worms and makes their bodies slightly more resilient. These people become our soldiers. They –"
"We never knew how the call defends us from the worms' influence," Gabriel interjected. "But from what you taught us about threads, we think our inner threads are silver, and somehow, perhaps, that is our shield."
"Oh," I whispered.
"Yeah," Jackal whispered from the wall. "They're solid silver, impossible to affect. You know, there's bits of silver flecking the threads of all the living on the other side, not just the silver-called."
"The silver-called soldiers must come to serve us," Michael continued. His hand flexed on the circlet in his lap. It was plain, but it had a harsh beauty; battered and thin, without ornaments. "We're called the Annimoutous, silver-called as well, but we're a select few; we rule in groups of five who are called bonded. Anyone might be called to unite as one of a bonded five. When we accept the call, we become much stronger and faster. More resilient. Faster to heal. Greater advantages for this heavier price. And we receive silver portals of our own."
He hesitated.
"You're our fifth, Rose," Lukas said.
"Quiet," Michael snarled. "Let me finish explaining this."
"I'm not more resilient, though," I said.
"This past week, you healed faster than you should have." Michael's eyes ran over me. "I have no idea why it's already affecting you. But you will only truly feel the physical changes if you accept the call. Then your strength will greatly increase and your senses will sharpen too. You'll be able to hear another's heartbeat the same way we can hear yours."
Oh. So sitting still and keeping a smooth face had done nothing to hide my anxiety. They could hear the rabbit-rhythm of my heart.
I felt naked.
YOU ARE READING
Ghost Silk (Ghost Perfume, Book 2) | ✔
Paranormal**COMPLETE** Rose grows into her ability to help ghosts and cross portals. The Alistairs pursue a bloody diplomacy in the soul realm. Between Rose and the Alistairs, love grows strong despite their secrets, the demons and nightmares that haunt them...
