Things had clearly gotten a lot worse around the Bardic Hall than anyone had been willing to Sing. Perhaps it was just because they were listening for it, but Karlene's Song seemed unusually loud inside the small audience chamber. "The windows do open onto the main courtyard," Magda murmured as the last note faded. "And I suspect she Sang the moment she stepped outside." "Did you understand any of it?" Jelena asked, her fingers white around the arms of her chair. "Only the grief. I can hear the emotions when bards Sing the kigh, but if they don't use words, not the actual communication." "Only the grief," Jelena repeated. She shook her head. "I suspect this time that was the actual communication." Magda stepped forward and laid one hand on the queen's arm both for comfort and to get a clearer reading of her kigh. Under the thin linen, muscles were rigid, and under an outward composure lay pain and guilt. Well aware of what the healer sensed, Jelena sagged back into her chair.
