She holds her hands up before her, cupping them as though anticipating some kind of offering, as Misa and Marco suddenly step out from behind her and stand on either side.

The two of them flanking her, gazing intently upon me, as the old woman closes her eyes in deep concentration as though trying to manifest something spectacular.

But all she gets for her efforts is a spray of gray ash that emanates from the center of her palms and falls gently to her feet.

And when she lifts her gaze to meet mine, her face appears stricken, as her eyes stare accusingly.

Damen grasps my arm and quickly pulls me away. Away from her. Away fromthem. Desperate to escape this creepy scene.

Both of us clueless as to who she is, where she came from, or what the song could possibly mean.

Both of us having no idea what her connection to Misa and Marco might be.

Only one thing is clear—the song is a warning.

The words intended forme to heed.

To hear.

She continues to sing, her voice soft, melodic, her words chasing behind us as we run back to our horse.

Back to the place of magick and manifesting and everything good.

Back to the relative safety of the earth plane, where we land side by side on a stark empty beach.

Our hands loosely clasped as we lie back on the sand and fight to catch our breath. Trying to make sense of the words, the disturbing scene we just witnessed.

Gazing up at a black, moonless sky bearing not one single star.

My night star is gone.

And for a moment, I’m overcome by this horrible, foreboding feeling that it’ll never return.

But then Damen whispers my name, his voice piercing the silence, piercing my thoughts.

And when I turn on my side to face him, seeing the way his face looms before me, his gaze filled with such reverence, so loving and kind—my mind floods with relief.

My night star is no longer here because I’m no longer in need of it.

The two of us shine in its place.

“That song is for me,” I tell him, voicing the words I know in my heart to be true. “Haven’s death, losing the shirt…” I pause and take a deep breath, feeling the assuring warmth of his finger as it gently traces my cheek. “It’s all part of my karma. And now, apparently, there’s something more I’m meant to do.”

Damen starts to speak, eager to comfort, to refute it, to erase the concern from my face.

But I’m quick to stop him, bringing my finger to his lips.

I’ve no need for those words.

Whatever the old woman sings about, I’m ready to face it.

Only later, not now.

“We’ll deal with it,” I say, my words at his cheek as I pull Damen to me. “Together, we’ll deal with everything. But for now…” My lips meet his, lingering as I savor the soft, sweet,almost feel of them. “For now let’s just be grateful forthis .”

Destiny is within reach…