The Canticle of Whispers by David Whitley

truthfully, he barely noticed where he was going. Crede’s words had rattled him more than he cared to admit. He was still pondering them as he opened his door, glad to have a moment to himself.
    â€œHello, Mark,” said a voice.
    Mark stopped in the doorway. His father was sitting on the other side of the room. He had found Cherubina’s old chair, and was sitting facing the wall.
    â€œHi, Dad,” Mark said, finding his voice. “Did Benedicta…”
    â€œShe did everything you asked,” Pete said, without turning around. His voice trembled a little. “She didn’t admit that she was supposed to keep me talking. I worked that out myself.”
    Mark nodded. He wasn’t going to apologize. He’d meant to spare his father the worry, but he’d been doing what needed to be done.
    â€œI’ve been to see Crede,” he began to explain, “I know you said I should stay hidden, but…”
    â€œYou weren’t here.” Pete got up, and turned around. His eyes were red rimmed. “Can you imagine what I felt when I opened the door, and you weren’t here? That you’d vanished, again? Do you know what it’s felt like, these last years?” His voice grew louder, more desperate. “Don’t you understand that the Director himself is after you! Why couldn’t you tell me where you were going?”
    â€œYou can’t protect me just by trying to hide me away,” Mark said, gently putting a hand on his father’s shoulder. “I understand, I really do. But I’m part of this now. I’m the ‘Protagonist,’ whatever that means. I’m a foretold Judge, and you know that Snutworth’s going to keep looking until he finds me.”
    Pete met his gaze, fiercely.
    â€œI lost you twice, son,” he said. “The first time, it was my own fault—I know that. I traded you away like an old coat, like you meant nothing to me. And when I saw you rise in the world, I…” he faltered, his eyes dropping. “I was prepared to let you go, then. But you came back to me. We found each other. For twelve hours, we were a family again. And then you were gone, and I … I…”
    Pete’s voice faded away. Mark took his father’s hands.
    â€œAll the time I was in Giseth, Dad, I tried to come back,” he said, looking his father in the eyes. “Every day, I wanted to. If we get through this, we can spend the rest of our lives making up for these few years. But right now, my friends need my help. Lily, Cherubina,…” He moved a little closer. “I haven’t been a little boy for a long time. But even a man needs his father.”
    Pete nodded, relief flooding across his face.
    â€œThen let me help,” he said, at last. “On your terms, this time.”
    Mark took his father’s rough hand and shook it firmly. It made him feel older than he ever had before.
    Pete smiled.
    â€œNow,” he said, more cheerily. “We’ve got plans to hatch.”
    Mark frowned, his good mood dampening.
    â€œI wish I knew what to suggest, but visiting Crede was a mistake. Cherubina’s gone for now, and I still have no idea where Lily could be…”
    Pete crossed his arms and sat down again, thoughtfully.
    â€œThe Director would know.”
    Mark laughed, bitterly.
    â€œAnd I’m sure he’d just love to tell us.”
    Pete smiled.
    â€œBut what if we had someone on the inside? Someone in his office?”
    Mark looked at his father. He hadn’t seen that expression on his father’s face for so long. It almost looked like excitement.
    â€œYou know someone in the Directory?” Mark said, amazed. “How? Who is he?”
    Pete smiled.
    â€œ She is the person who sent me a letter when you disappeared, to tell me that you were alive. I suppose I should have been grateful for that, but at the time, all I could see was that this woman must know