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Longest Night

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On the Longest Night of the winter that Imriel was in Alba, I kept Eloua's Vigil with Joscelin, kneeling in starlit darkness on the flagged stones of Elua's temple. It was exactly as I had imagined: the exquisite agony of stone beneath my knees, the piercing chill, the lonely quiet, knowing that around us Terre d'Ange was a glorious of riot of color and sound and sensuality. And yet it had a solemn beauty of its own. Of all the Companions, I understood Cassiel least, but I was learning that this was only another way of making love, this stillness.