I sang again.
The sound carried over the river, but nothing happened.
"…Even if your voice changes, the tone you use stays the same," Yuna said carefully.
She looked nervous, as if she thought I'd take it the wrong way. "Maybe we should try something else?"
I understood what she meant.
She wasn't saying I sang badly, just that the Cursed Spirit had a different sense of beauty.
"It's fine. I have a plan," I said, turning toward Dante. "Dante, sing for a bit."
The hulking Cursed Spirit nodded slowly and stepped forward.
Then, he opened his mouth behind the cloth covering his face.
The sound that came out wasn't singing.
It was a mess of low, distorted hums and whispering echoes that felt like thousands of animals shouting at once, the sound of explosion of a star, and the whispers of night.
The sound scratched at my ears and made my head feel heavy.
The air grew cold.
The water began to ripple.
A few seconds later, something rose from the center of the river.
