The Canticle of Whispers by David Whitley Read Free Book Online Page B

daughter of the elite!”
    â€œSerapha?” Mark said, turning his head. “That sounds … familiar…”
    He stopped, mouth agape. There, with the crowd opening out around her, was Cherubina.
    â€œIs this not a symbol of our cause?” Crede said, bowing gallantly in Cherubina’s direction. “Started by the purity of a young maiden—Miss Lilith—and after her mysterious disappearance, continued by such shining examples of charity as Miss Serapha, who willingly gave up an elite family to live among us. Whatever the Directory may say, as long as such people flock to our cause, we know it is just and true!”
    There was a cheer from the crowd around. Cherubina remained still, her eyes cast demurely down—standing in a borrowed dress, under a false name, and being praised as a heroine of truth.
    Mark thought that it seemed to sum up Crede’s movement pretty well.
    He waited until Crede moved to another part of the taproom, still talking, and the crowd followed him, away from Cherubina. Then, he crept toward her, and grabbed her shoulder.
    â€œMa—?” Cherubina gasped as Mark pulled her into the quietest corner of the room. Mark glared at her furiously, and she hastily swallowed the name. She had promised not to say it in public. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.
    â€œWhat am I doing here?” Mark replied. “In what way is becoming a symbol of a revolution keeping a low profile?”
    â€œI’m finding us some allies,” Cherubina replied, proudly. “Aren’t these people just like your friends at the other almshouse? Except, of course, Crede actually takes action. They say that the receivers don’t dare come into the Taurus district anymore…”
    â€œFine, fine,” Mark said, glancing around to check that no one was listening to them. Fortunately, Crede was still very much the center of attention. “But how did you know about this place at all?”
    Cherubina smiled in a way that she clearly thought was mysterious.
    â€œMr. Crede sent me a note—one of his men slipped it under our door. He said I might be able to help them. At first, I went because I was curious, and because they promised to protect me, but now…”
    â€œHow did they know about you?” Mark interrupted, and then shook his head. That much was obvious; he recognized several ragged figures here that had been at the Temple Almshouse. News obviously traveled fast in the underworld. “I wish you’d told me,” Mark said, uneasily. “Didn’t you think that one or two of these people might let the receivers know where you are?”
    â€œWhat would be wrong with Miss Serapha coming to the meetings?” Cherubina replied, with all the subtlety of a brat of four summers.
    Mark sighed, and raised his hand to touch Cherubina’s ringlets. “There are more things than names that can draw attention to us,” he muttered. “Did you know Miss Devine is here as well?”
    â€œWho?” Cherubina replied, deeply uninterested.
    â€œMiss…” Mark looked around, but the emotion peddler had vanished in the crowd. He dismissed her with a wave of the hand. “It doesn’t matter. Someone we don’t want following us. The point is, anyone could be here, even an undercover receiver.”
    â€œNick on the door knows every undercover receiver that dares to work at this end of the city,” Cherubina replied, with a touch of pride, “Mr. Crede’s not stupid, you know.”
    â€œBaiting the receivers when they’re already on edge. Promising fairness to everyone in Agora…” Mark sighed. “He doesn’t look or sound like someone who’s very closely in touch with reality.”
    â€œHe’s trying to make a difference,” Cherubina said, quietly. “And so am I. All my life I’ve been a prize, used by other people. Not