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Her heart warmed at his words. “I know you can. But you shouldn’t waste time. Trust me. You never know how much time you’ll get.”

Damien frowned and squeezed her hand. “I am sorry you didn’t have more time with Malachi.”

“I don’t… want to talk about that right now.” She couldn’t. Not if she wanted to get through this party without crying.

“I understand.” He started back up the path and deliberately changed the subject. “Are you curious what the sing will be?”

“I’m trying to release my expectations, or something like that. Whatever happens, happens.”

“You don’t want to know?”

“Nope. I’m getting my zen on.”

“Your ‘zen’?”

She could hear the smile in his voice even as they approached the house, which was lit up in every window, with more people spilling out in the garden. The fall air made their breath fog, and frost crunched under their feet. Soon, everyone told her, it would snow.

As they entered the house, calls came from every corner, and Ava pressed on the door Orsala had built with her, making sure it was shut. She closed her eyes, let the magic take root, and then she opened them. The women around her smiled in understanding. There were many she was beginning to recognize, but a lot of them still looked unfamiliar. There were also more Irin men than she’d seen before, standing in small groups or holding their mates. It was, quite obviously, a party. The smell of savory meat filled the air, and spices tempted her nose. Someone handed her a glass of what looked like cider, and she took a sip. It was delicious.

Damien nudged her shoulder. “Can I leave you with Astrid?”

Ava spotted her friend in the corner of the sitting room, waving. “Yep. Go find your woman and irritate her.”

“Wish me luck.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you’ll need it.”

He disappeared into the crowd as Astrid approached.

“Come,” her friend said. “Let’s get you some food. People eat quickly, then we head over to the barn for the singing.”

“What—” She caught herself before she could ask for explanations. “No, don’t tell me.”

Astrid smiled. “You don’t want to know what it is?”

“Nope. I want to just… experience. If you have no expectations, you can’t be disappointed with reality.”

“Fair enough.”

They made their way to the kitchen, where more people were gathered. Mostly women, but again, a few scribes. One man, whom Ava vaguely recognized, held an Irina on his lap. She squinted when she noticed that he had no talesm on his neck.

“Wait.” She tugged on Astrid’s arm. “Is he…?”

“Human?” She nodded. “Yes. Orsala is not pleased with the relationship, but then, Cam does what she wants.”

“But how do they… you know?”

Astrid frowned. “Didn’t you say you had lovers before Malachi? Irin can’t touch human women, but we don’t have the same problem. Most human men just can’t handle our energy or intensity for prolonged periods of time. Johan doesn’t have that problem, apparently.”

“But aging? Won’t she stay young as he gets old?”

“Yes.” Astrid shrugged. “It’s her choice, Ava. And his.”

They pushed past the group gathered around the table and made their way to the food that was spread out on the counter. Soon her plate was piled with meat pies and sausages made in the haven, as well as roasted turnips and carrots. There was a soup made out of pumpkin that smelled like it was spiced with chilies. She and Astrid stood in a corner, eating their dinner and chatting with a few visitors whom Ava hadn’t met yet. As Orsala had warned her, most were very curious about the new girl. The crush of people was more than Ava was used to, and she sighed in relief when people started filtering out of the house and down to the barn.

Astrid and Ava followed the steady stream after they finished their food. By the time they entered the barn, it was half-full. The training equipment had been taken away, and benches filled the room, along with heaters to chase away the cold. At the front of the room, Orsala sat, along with Sari, Renata, and another older woman with a cap of silver-grey hair. Murmurs and laughter filled the air as everyone took seats on the benches.

“Do you want to sit near the front?”

“No.” She felt conspicuous enough.

“That’s fine.” Astrid found a spot near the back wall. It was cooler, as the air leaked in from cracks in the wall, but there were enough people and heaters that Ava wasn’t uncomfortable.

“How much of the Old Language do you understand?” Astrid asked.

“Not much. Just a few things, though I’ve heard it plenty, of course.”

Astrid’s eyes lit. “You might understand more after tonight. The songs might help your understanding.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just listen.”

After a few more minutes, everyone seemed to have arrived. Ava even spotted Damien across the barn, near the side door, standing by himself but staring at his mate. Ava also noticed Sari sneaking glances at him and trying to hide nerves.

“Hmm. Something definitely going on there.”

Astrid followed her eyes. “It’s about time.”

“Right?”

Orsala stood, and immediately everyone fell silent.

“We are here to celebrate a new sister among us and a sister returned home.” Orsala’s eyes met hers, but luckily she didn’t ask Ava to stand or single her out in any way. She continued, a smile spread across her face. “As is our custom, we welcome our sister Ava with the songs of our fathers. It is with our voices we remember, with our ears we understand. For our fathers gave us the gift of their songs, and it is our duty to sing them. It is our joy to remember. And as we create new life and preserve the safety of those under our care—” Orsala nodded to Sari. “We hold in our hearts and minds the stories of our past and the power they give us. For as we create and protect, we reflect the will of heaven on earth.”

Ava felt a chill travel down her spine. Goose bumps rose on her arms as the room seemed to fill with a humming noise. It wasn’t unlike the hum she’d heard on the first day approaching Sarihöfn. It was a low thrum that traveled along her skin and seemed to settle on the back of her neck. Then her mouth dropped open in surprise as she realized some of the hum came from her own throat.

She barely felt it, but it was there. And as her voice joined the others in the room, a single tone rang out, high and clear at the front of the room. Astrid gripped her right hand, and another woman reached for her left. Ava felt no urge to pull away. No discomfort. She realized the hum that had started in her throat had traveled down each arm and was linked with the same resonance coming from both Astrid and the woman to her left. The noise surged with life and magic. The air grew electric, snapping around her as she felt the hair on her arms rise.

Ava was one and part of everything in that moment. Tears came to her eyes as she watched the small older woman with the silver hair stand in front of the room, her arms lifting as her voice rose.

Then the Irina began to sing.

Some joined with the woman in front, others rang out at different times, harmonizing as they joined, until the room was filled with the tapestry of sound. She did not understand the words, only the clear purity of voice. Ava continued to hum, along with the women she held on to. But as she sang, she felt it. She was connected. She was one with the Irina in the room. Irina long passed. The ones who had been lost. Others still hiding in fear.

As the song continued, images washed across Ava’s mind. Gold and light. She closed her eyes and a twisting kind of rainbow filled her vision. When it faded away, she not only heard—she saw what the old woman sang.

The glory of the angels on the mortal plane. Songs of love and joy.