While Sparr digested this latest piece of information, several of the younger Translators filed into the chamber, escorted by a priest. A few carried parchment and charcoal, others leaned casually against the Originals, using them as back rests.
"They don't mind that?" Sparr asked.
"Oh, not at all. It helps us learn. It's like-" Brielle stopped abruptly, raising a finger to ask for quiet.
From nowhere in particular, the alien language swelled, receded, then rose again. Brielle listened raptly, lips just parted, eyes no more than slits. Once she responded, her voice a song, barely audible, its meaning unfathomable. Again, the language rose around them, and again Brielle sang out some new query. It reminded Sparr of a call and response from gospel music. Then, just before the sound at las
