The music was everything now. When Arindam’s song rose, Prija’s fell. Kyra kept the connection between their minds, worried that if Prija couldn’t see the waves of Arindam’s song, she wouldn’t be able to play whatever it was she was playing. Because whatever she was playing canceled out the painful waves of music emanating from the Fallen.

The music grew louder. It filled the room. No longer a scraping hum but a resonant hymn of unearthly beauty. Prija was playing opposite the Fallen, matching his frequency and tempo with her own. No music came from her throat, but Prija was singing. Not old magic, but new. Not Irina song, but kareshta. Wholly new, yet ancient at its core.

Kyra opened her eyes and saw her sister’s face glowing.

“Do you see it?” Vasu appeared, kneeling beside her. “The little one saw it immediately.”

“The stars we see in visions,” Kyra said. “They aren’t stars after all.”

“They are. But we are the morning stars, and every star has a song.”

“Intira can see it.”

“Prija’s brother saw it too. That was how they killed their father, though they did not understand how. Their minds were tied together. The effort killed her twin. And his death nearly drove her mad.”

“Do we need to be concerned about Intira?” Kyra asked.

“No.” Vasu smiled. “I saw her dreams and recognized her genius. Her mind is a work of heaven, and it is beautiful. It is the young who are most interesting to me.”

“Because you’re young too, aren’t you?”

That was what Kyra recognized now. The truth that had eluded her about this odd Fallen angel. Though Vasu was ancient to the earth, as an angel, he was a mere child. Of course he had an affinity toward children. He was one.

Vasu put his head on Kyra’s shoulder. “Do you see it now?”

“I see it now.” She turned and kissed Vasu’s forehead. “Thank you for showing me.”

“You’re welcome.”

He disappeared.

Kyra continued to watch Prija play, her face glowing with peace, her eyes closed, rocking in time with her instrument. She wasn’t playing music. She was music.

“…when you’ve found your voice, you’ll sing to me.”

This was what Leo was talking about. Prija had found her voice. Not an Irina voice, but a kareshta one.

Wholly and beautifully unique.

* * *

Leo and Niran rushed toward the Fallen, throwing themselves on the creature’s back as he struggled to rise. Whatever magic Prija was working had caused the angel to stumble. Alyah stood on the edge of the courtyard, guarded by Niran’s brother, singing over the chaos of battle. Her song lifted Leo, and his magic grew stronger. His talesm glowed. His hand was firm on his knife.

“On his back,” he shouted at Niran. “Take him down!”

Leo ran around to face the angel, who was snarling. He didn’t appear in his bird form anymore, but in the still frightening and beautiful form of an angel. He was seven feet tall and broadly built. His hair was black as a raven’s wing and tied in a knot at the back of his head.

“Away from me, Forgiven get!” he shouted in the Old Language. “You have no power over me.”

Ava’s teasing voice rang in the back of his mind. Remember, big guy. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Leo ran toward the Fallen, knowing that if the creature got him in his grip, he was likely done for. But at the last minute, Leo curled and bent down, rolling into a ball and ignoring the slice of rock against his shoulders. He hit Arindam’s shins, knocking the angel forward as Niran and Rith jumped on his back.

Leo quickly uncurled and flung himself on the angel’s legs, pinning him down with his weight as Niran lay over the monster’s shoulders.

“Do it!” he screamed at Rith.

The black blade rose. The angel roared. Rith plunged the blade into Arindam’s spine, and the roaring monster fell silent.

* * *

Kyra clutched her stomach, nausea making her body shake. Prija dropped her instrument to the ground and clutched her temples, crying out as she fell to the side. The earth beneath them rolled and shook; then everything was silent.