The Singer
Page 67
“I’m surprised Ava’s mother allowed Reed to name her,” Leo said. “I thought she didn’t have much to do with him.”
“Lena Matheson might not have known the significance. And Ava is a common enough human name.”
“There’s no other record of the first Ava?”
“Not that Rhys has found. Or Konrad’s contact in America.”
Leo was silent for some time. Then he said, “If he knew her name, is it possible he knew more than that?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s a very famous musician, isn’t he? He has a lot of money. Do we know if he was wealthy when Ava was born?”
Malachi said, “Rhys said Reed was already famous when Ava was born.”
“So he probably had money. And if he had money, he could have found his mother. Maybe as an adult, even. Reed might be the reason her records don’t exist.”
“Why would he make his own mother disappear? Especially if she was dead?”
Leo shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“But if he has her records, or knows where they are…” Malachi was starting to see where Leo was going. “There’s no way we could talk to him. He has bodyguards. Handlers.”
“But he only has one daughter.”
“He would tell Ava. Probably.”
“Maybe.”
The phone rang. The loud electronic buzz filled the silent library.
Leo picked it up. “Max?”
Malachi could hear his brother’s voice from across the room.
“Get to Oslo, Leo. Get Malachi and get on a plane now.”
Malachi’s heart raced. “Oslo?”
“I’ve found them,” Max said. “I’ve found Ava.”
Chapter Sixteen
The feeling of being watched continued into Sarihöfn. It continued during her lesson with Orsala the next day. It hung over her shoulder and she could not rest, even when she tried.
“Something is coming,” she said to Orsala, who was fixing tea during a break in their lessons.
“Have you seen something? What is it?”
“Something dark. I see it in my dreams. I’ve brought something dark here.”
Orsala narrowed her eyes, then closed them, and Ava knew she was taking a gentle scan of the emotions around her. It was part of the shields that Sarihöfn held. The scribes who lived there wrote their magic on the trees and walls of the compound. Sari manipulated the very elements that surrounded them. There were patrols and guards. Video monitoring and electronic sensors. And Orsala could feel the emotional temperature of any inhabitant when she wanted to.
“Nothing feels wrong, Ava. Except that you’re worried. For the first time in many years, our wards here are stronger because Sari is complete.”
At least one good thing had come from her visit. Damien and Sari’s reconciliation had strengthened the whole community and put both of them in a far better mood. By the time Mala and Ava had returned from Bergen, there were flowers pushing up through the snow. Playful ribbing might have reddened Sari’s cheeks, but the aura of contentment was evident all through the valley.
Except for Ava.
She could feel it. Something dark shadowed her. It lurked in the trees.
“I dream of dark things, Orsala.” Her voice was barely over a whisper. “Even when Malachi is there, there’s a darkness, too.”
The old woman put a hand on her arm as she sat next to Ava at the table. “That’s normal, daughter. I dreamed of my mate after I lost him, too. It’s normal that your dreams of him would be troubling. He was taken from you in the most violent way. Don’t hide from that. Your soul must grieve.”
“They’re not always dark.”
“Good.”
“But there’s something…”
“What?” The kettle began to whistle, and Orsala rose. “What is it?”
“I feel like it comes from me. Or it’s tied to me, but separate. I don’t want it… but it’s part of me. Like when I didn’t let go of Bruno. It wasn’t that I couldn’t. Part of me didn’t want to. I liked the power.”
Ava could smell the aroma of tea rising from the cheery brown pot Orsala always used. It did nothing to cheer her.
“You’re angry,” the old woman said.
“At myself, yes.”
Orsala finally sat again, putting the tea and two cups in front of her, closing the book of spells they’d been studying.
“Ava, you spent much of your life in the human world, not realizing who or what you were. For years, they told you that your mind was wrong. That could easily have created the shadows I see within you. Yes, there is darkness. But none of us are completely dark or light. We are, none of us, perfect beings. Not even the angels are perfect. We fail and fall like the humans. We have rage. Greed. Violence against each other. But we seek the light. That is what makes us different from the Fallen.” Her lip curled. “From their Grigori spawn. Our souls seek the light.”
Her mouth turned up at the corner. “You don’t feel the darkness in me?”
Orsala hesitated. “I do.”
“I do, too.”
“But I see far more light than dark. Yes, your magic has… a shadow. I’ve seen it just as you have. But I truly believe the longer you are with us, the longer you know who you are and what you are meant to be, that shadow will lessen. It will never overpower you.”
“Lena Matheson might not have known the significance. And Ava is a common enough human name.”
“There’s no other record of the first Ava?”
“Not that Rhys has found. Or Konrad’s contact in America.”
Leo was silent for some time. Then he said, “If he knew her name, is it possible he knew more than that?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s a very famous musician, isn’t he? He has a lot of money. Do we know if he was wealthy when Ava was born?”
Malachi said, “Rhys said Reed was already famous when Ava was born.”
“So he probably had money. And if he had money, he could have found his mother. Maybe as an adult, even. Reed might be the reason her records don’t exist.”
“Why would he make his own mother disappear? Especially if she was dead?”
Leo shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“But if he has her records, or knows where they are…” Malachi was starting to see where Leo was going. “There’s no way we could talk to him. He has bodyguards. Handlers.”
“But he only has one daughter.”
“He would tell Ava. Probably.”
“Maybe.”
The phone rang. The loud electronic buzz filled the silent library.
Leo picked it up. “Max?”
Malachi could hear his brother’s voice from across the room.
“Get to Oslo, Leo. Get Malachi and get on a plane now.”
Malachi’s heart raced. “Oslo?”
“I’ve found them,” Max said. “I’ve found Ava.”
Chapter Sixteen
The feeling of being watched continued into Sarihöfn. It continued during her lesson with Orsala the next day. It hung over her shoulder and she could not rest, even when she tried.
“Something is coming,” she said to Orsala, who was fixing tea during a break in their lessons.
“Have you seen something? What is it?”
“Something dark. I see it in my dreams. I’ve brought something dark here.”
Orsala narrowed her eyes, then closed them, and Ava knew she was taking a gentle scan of the emotions around her. It was part of the shields that Sarihöfn held. The scribes who lived there wrote their magic on the trees and walls of the compound. Sari manipulated the very elements that surrounded them. There were patrols and guards. Video monitoring and electronic sensors. And Orsala could feel the emotional temperature of any inhabitant when she wanted to.
“Nothing feels wrong, Ava. Except that you’re worried. For the first time in many years, our wards here are stronger because Sari is complete.”
At least one good thing had come from her visit. Damien and Sari’s reconciliation had strengthened the whole community and put both of them in a far better mood. By the time Mala and Ava had returned from Bergen, there were flowers pushing up through the snow. Playful ribbing might have reddened Sari’s cheeks, but the aura of contentment was evident all through the valley.
Except for Ava.
She could feel it. Something dark shadowed her. It lurked in the trees.
“I dream of dark things, Orsala.” Her voice was barely over a whisper. “Even when Malachi is there, there’s a darkness, too.”
The old woman put a hand on her arm as she sat next to Ava at the table. “That’s normal, daughter. I dreamed of my mate after I lost him, too. It’s normal that your dreams of him would be troubling. He was taken from you in the most violent way. Don’t hide from that. Your soul must grieve.”
“They’re not always dark.”
“Good.”
“But there’s something…”
“What?” The kettle began to whistle, and Orsala rose. “What is it?”
“I feel like it comes from me. Or it’s tied to me, but separate. I don’t want it… but it’s part of me. Like when I didn’t let go of Bruno. It wasn’t that I couldn’t. Part of me didn’t want to. I liked the power.”
Ava could smell the aroma of tea rising from the cheery brown pot Orsala always used. It did nothing to cheer her.
“You’re angry,” the old woman said.
“At myself, yes.”
Orsala finally sat again, putting the tea and two cups in front of her, closing the book of spells they’d been studying.
“Ava, you spent much of your life in the human world, not realizing who or what you were. For years, they told you that your mind was wrong. That could easily have created the shadows I see within you. Yes, there is darkness. But none of us are completely dark or light. We are, none of us, perfect beings. Not even the angels are perfect. We fail and fall like the humans. We have rage. Greed. Violence against each other. But we seek the light. That is what makes us different from the Fallen.” Her lip curled. “From their Grigori spawn. Our souls seek the light.”
Her mouth turned up at the corner. “You don’t feel the darkness in me?”
Orsala hesitated. “I do.”
“I do, too.”
“But I see far more light than dark. Yes, your magic has… a shadow. I’ve seen it just as you have. But I truly believe the longer you are with us, the longer you know who you are and what you are meant to be, that shadow will lessen. It will never overpower you.”
