“Is that so?” he whispered.

“Yes.” She laid her head on his shoulder as his arms came around her. “It’s supposed to keep away evil spirits.”

His hands tightened on her hips.

“She gave him the name Jasper to protect him.” Ava closed her eyes and released a sigh. “She did it to protect her child.”

Chapter Thirty-three

MALACHI LAY ON THE PICNIC blanket in Yıldız Park, his face soaking in the afternoon sun as Ava combed her hand through his hair and took pictures with her phone. A group of children shrieked nearby, the laughter almost piercing his eardrums.

“What are they doing?” he murmured.

“I think there’s a squirrel.” She laughed. “Uh-oh. And now there’s a dog.”

“Özel dilerim!” Malachi heard one mother call, apologizing for the racket.

“Bir şey değil!” Ava reassured the harried mother with a laugh. It’s nothing.

She had picked up the language quickly after they’d moved to Istanbul. After living there over a year, she chatted with the vendor at the market and ordered from her favorite cafe with ease. Ava was still fascinated by languages, but most of her study was now focused on learning everything she could about the Old Language, particularly spells—like those Vasu had given her—that might have been lost.

She and Sari also corresponded regularly with Kyra, though the kareshta still lived in hiding.

He kept his eyes closed and imagined the scene as the dog barked and the children ran laughing into the trees. Their shouts and laughter had finally become a comfort. He loved his city, and human families were a part of it. A tumble of accents and languages flowed along the paths, though most of the visitors in the middle of the week were local. He heard a teacher instructing a drawing class several meters away, but no one came close enough to bother them.

Damien and Sari were away from the scribe house, visiting Orsala, who had taken residence in Cappadocia with Mala. The quiet scholars in Göreme didn’t quite know what to do with the fierce Irina warrior, but Mala would not leave Orsala, so they learned to stay out of her way.

Officially, Malachi was in charge. But since Rhys was at the house, cranky because the air-conditioning was out again, Malachi was more than happy to escape. He and Ava had snuck out with a picnic basket, Leo giving them rude hand gestures as he waited on the phone with the repair company.

“Malachi?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s something…”

He heard the catch in her voice and opened his eyes. She looked upset. “What is it?”

Ava shook her head. “I don’t know how to tell you. I didn’t expect…”

“Ava, what’s wrong?”

Her cheeks were flushed. “Everyone said it wasn’t likely, so—”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m pregnant.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“I know,” she whispered, “with everything, it’s not the best time. You still have concerns. I know that. And the dreams still… I need you to be happy.”

“Ava.” His heart was so full he thought it would pound out of his chest.

“I need you to be okay with this because I’m scared to death.”

He wanted to reassure her. Wanted to tell her what a gift she’d given him, but the words wouldn’t come.

So Malachi turned his face to her belly, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed the tiny life that grew inside.

Impossible, improbable life.

A miracle.

She bent down and leaned her head on his. “You’re happy?”

He nodded. Then Malachi rose and took her in his arms, forcing himself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t enough. He could feel tears in the corners of his eyes, but he could not be ashamed of them. He held Ava in his arms and let himself smile.

“You’re happy,” she said on a sigh, wrapping her arms tight around his neck.

He pulled away and kissed her face until she was laughing. Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, the wonder of what they had become a vibrant song in his heart.

“Sometimes, canım, words are not enough.”

End of Book Three.

February 20, 2015

To my readers,

I hope you enjoyed The Secret.

Sometimes it’s very difficult to pinpoint where an idea comes from or when inspiration strikes.

For the Irin Chronicles, it is not.

This series grew from a single dream on a winter afternoon. It was fed by music and the intoxicating sights, sounds, and smells of Turkey and Israel and Austria. It grew as I explored my love of language and history and myth, along with the intricacies of love and family and faith.

I love this series. (Which is not to say that I haven’t hated it a few times too.)

While the Irin Chronicles was originally envisioned as a trilogy featuring Ava and Malachi, it grew into a world that I can’t quite leave behind yet. There are too many stories left to tell. So while Ava and Malachi’s journey has come to a rest, the Irin world will continue.

I hope you look forward to visiting again.

Thank you so much for reading,

Elizabeth

For more information about my work, to join my mailing list for new releases, or access bonus content, please visit:

ElizabethHunterWrites.com

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Many thanks to my family, who had to suffer through the rather grouchy version of me who wrote these books. Writing magic is hard, readers. Thank goodness the people who love me put up with my mood swings. Special thanks to Genevieve and Kelli, who bear the brunt. (A round or two at Bourbon & Branch is on me.)

Thanks to extraordinary beta readers like Sarah and Sandra and Iriet, who give me such important feedback from a reader perspective. What sounds right in my head doesn’t always make sense on the page. Thank you for not letting me get away with anything. Thank you to writer friends like Grace Draven, Colleen Vanderlinden, and Michele Scott, who understand and also put up with a lot of my whining.

A special thanks to the ever-talented Killian McRae for being my go-to expert on all things Turkish and an enthusiastic fan of Malachi and Ava. Your help was invaluable, and we need to plan a trip to Istanbul when we’re actually in the city together.

Thanks to the city of Vienna for its coffee, its hospitality, and its truly excellent airport. A special thanks to the wonderful staff of the Guesthouse Vienna, which was my home away from home while researching this book. To the cooks at Haas & Haas, thank you for one great breakfast after another. To that cute guy outside the Albertina on Thursday afternoon, thanks for wearing those socks with your very conservative suit. It was kind of a glum day and you gave me a smile. And I’m just going to mention the coffee again, because it really is amazing and wonderful.

To my agents, Jane Dystel and Lauren Abramo, thank you for all your hard work on my behalf. Thanks to the talented Zachary Webber, the voice of the Irin Chronicles who makes my words come alive for all my audiobook listeners. Thanks to the folks at Damonza, who put up with me being very, very picky about this cover. And a hearty and well-deserved thank-you to my editor Anne Victory, a true professional in a sea of… less than professionals. You make me look good.