If this was a tunnel, it wasn’t dark or confined. Part of the ceiling was clear glass and he could see the bright blue sky beyond it. There were torches mounted on the walls on all sides, although they weren’t currently lit. The sunlight coming through the glass panel lit the space and warmed it, too. He was lying on a long padded bench that was one of many in the room. There was a thick rug on the stone floor, one that was almost as big as the room itself.
Where was he?
Where was Percipia?
Had she abandoned him?
A panel slid open beside him and Bond jumped at the sound. A tray slid out of the dark space, with an earthenware mug on it. Steam rose from the contents, which smelled familiar.
Anguissa used to drink this. It was made of honey and herbs, and she’d insisted it was a traditional restorative from her home. He couldn’t remember what it was called, but could recall the pleasant taste of it and its effect.
Bond lifted the cup from the tray, which then slid back into the wall. The panel closed and even though he looked, he couldn’t see its outline clearly.
He sipped and felt a welcome heat suffuse his body. His arm wasn’t too sore and he checked the state of the healing. He stretched and explored the large chamber while he drank the potion. There was only one exit, a sloping corridor that led upward to a brighter light. Bond could see a vista of mountains framed in the opening at the far end and there was a cool wind coming down the corridor.
He also saw a familiar silhouette at the distant opening. Percipia was sitting with her back to him, her hair in a long braid, and steam rose from something in her hands. He watched her for a moment, having no doubt that she’d heard him. She would have the same sharp hearing as Anguissa. That she didn’t turn and beckon to him must mean that she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. Bond remembered the hazard of interrupting dragon shifters when they wanted solitude, and turned back to the cavern.
He sat on the same bench and opened Sansor’s book.
It was easy to find the entry on the lost angel, but a lot harder to read the report. From the drawing, Bond couldn’t recognize his former fellow, and even from a scan, he might not have been able to do so. The marks on the dead man’s back could only mean one thing though.
What had his mission been?
He must not have succeeded.
Bond was well aware that this could have been his fate the night before in Incendium, if not for Percipia.
He read the entire entry twice, then closed the book. He was glad that his fellow had been laid to rest, not put in a museum or some macabre collection. It was bad enough that there had been an autopsy.
Bond stood and paced, thinking about his situation and his quest. If only one day had passed, he still had time to reach the rendezvous and complete his mission. Even if two days had passed, it was possible that Percipia could help him reach the island in time.
One thing was for certain: he needed her help.
Time was wasting. Even if she preferred her privacy, he would have to interrupt her now.
Bond walked toward Percipia, the book in his hand, but his greeting was stolen from his lips in his astonishment.
The view was stupendous.
Percipia sat on a lip of stone that faced a range of mountains, swinging her feet over emptiness. The sunlight touched the jagged peaks, glistening off the snow and ice, making them look treacherous.
If not impassable.
Bond looked down and could see no path to the lip of stone and no other entrance to the cave behind him. He looked up and saw the sky, as well as some impressive mountain spikes high above. They seemed high enough to shred the clouds and the air here was thinner and colder.
He found Percipia watching him, a smile in her eyes. “Welcome to the Aerie,” she said. “Few men ever see it.” She considered the view. “Fewer angels, I would guess, at least ones that have sacrificed their wings.”
He sat down beside her, guessing her reason for bringing him here. “Because the only way to reach this place is by air?”
She nodded and sipped from the earthenware cup in her hands.
“Is the surrender of the Seed the price of leaving?”
She smiled at him. “I like that my child will have a clever father.”
Bond let his own legs swing over the abyss. The wind blew through his hair and the cold stung his eyes a bit, but he didn’t mind. The view was worth it, and he felt his heart lighten at all the empty space. “Will you tell me where we are?”
“Generally but not specifically. The location of the Aerie is a secret, but everyone knows it’s hidden in the Algor Mountains.
“That’s a long mountain range, isn’t it?”
“Very long.” She took another sip. “Even so, I suppose someone could find it if they really wanted to.”
“Is it sacred?”
Percipia frowned. “It’s no more special to most people than any other place on Incendium. We don’t really trouble with religion on Incendium, at least not the dragon shifters. And we certainly don’t believe in magic. We rely upon science and logic.”
“This is a refuge that only your kind can reach. There must be a reason for that.”
“Because we were once hunted, of course.” She slanted a glance at him and indicated her mug. “Do you want some more?”
So she knew he had already had one cup of it. Bond nodded. “I can’t remember what it’s called, but I know Anguissa used to drink it.”
Percipia smiled. “A taste of home.”
“Something like that.” Bond watched as she reached to the wall on her other side, opening a panel and tapping in a code. He memorized that, just by force of habit. A panel opened in the polished rock, revealing a square space with a steaming earthenware cup of some liquid within it. Percipia handed it to him.
Once again, he couldn’t see any hairlines once the panel closed.
“Favusa,” she told him as he sipped. “A beverage made from honeycomb mixed with various fruit, dried and then reconstituted with hot water. It travels well, keeps well, and is exactly the thing after a long night flight.” She sipped with satisfaction. “This is my third cup.”
“How old is this place? How can something like this—” he gestured to the panel “—even be here?”
“The Aerie dates from the dawn of our time on Incendium, though it was used most frequently before the days of Scintillon, when our survival was threatened.” She smiled at him again. “It’s a nursery, where any of our kind can come to bear young in safety.”
“It seems a long way to come in labor.”
“We bear eggs, remember, which must be nurtured and kept warm until the young hatch. They are of considerable size and moving them is treacherous. The Aerie is a haven and a sanctuary, and I think our kind only survives on Incendium because of it.”
“But someone must maintain it and stock its provisions, as well as service its systems.”
“Someone does, but they are of our kind, always. The custodian of the Aerie is a very high position in my father’s court, awarded only to the most trustworthy of dragon shifters in Incendium, both a secret and a sacred trust.” She eyed him. “Do you feel better?”
“Much, thank you.”
“How did your wound heal so quickly?”
He was startled to realize that she must have looked at his injury and that he was unaware of it. “Sansor tended it...”
Percipia shook her head. “It was more than that. What powers do angels have when they take flesh?”
“I think you’ve guessed.”
“Anguissa must have found you useful on her crew.”
“She did, but not for my healing powers.” Bond finished the favusa. “She never realized I had them.”
“Why not?”
“Using them would have revealed my nature.”
“Did you stand aside when anyone was injured?” Her horror was clear.
Bond was glad he could shake his head. “I was lucky in that there were no injuries. Those w
ho serve Anguissa either die or survive relatively unscathed.” She was still watching him, so he continued. “I used to worry about that happening, about having to choose between my quest and the survival of another being. I’m glad I never had to.”
Percipia nodded and finished her own favusa. “I would be, too.”
He sensed that she would have been content to sit and watch the sun rise higher, but his situation didn’t allow that. “I don’t want to be rude, because you’ve already helped me a great deal, but I must meet the Host,” he said. “I must be on time.”
“When and where?”
Bond frowned, reluctant to say the words aloud. “You can’t tell anyone else.”
“Who would I tell? We’re alone.”
“But at some point, we’ll leave. You’ll leave. You cannot ever tell anyone the rendezvous point.”
Her gaze filled with understanding. “Because the Host continue to use it.”
Bond nodded.
“How often do the angels come to Incendium?”
“I can’t say.”
“You can’t betray your kind,” Percipia said without surprise. “I think we could make an agreement, Bond, given that you are at the Aerie, which is just as great of a secret outside of my kind.”
He nodded and surveyed the vista before himself.
She seemed to guess his concern, for she spoke. “The Aerie is located so that it can’t be reached on foot.”
“But caves are often tunnels.”
“Not this one. It has been sealed on the inner side and buttressed.” Her conviction was such that Bond believed her. She raised a hand. “In addition, the acoustics of this particular area amplify the slightest sound to anyone in this opening of this cavern.”
“Really?”
She took a pebble and flicked it into the air. Bond thought he could hear the wind whistle around it, which was remarkable. What was more remarkable was the clatter it made when it collided with the mountainside and fell down into the abyss. It sounded like a landslide.
Percipia smiled and he knew his surprise showed. “And my hearing is infinitely more sensitive than yours.”
Bond’s decision was made. “Is this the morning after we met at Ambrosia?”
Percipia nodded agreement.
“Then the day after tomorrow, I must be on Finis Island when the sun sets. There is a clearing at the very center of the island where the Host will descend.”
“And if you aren’t there?”
“I will be considered lost.”
“And your quest?”
“Will be a failure.”
She studied him for a long moment. “It’s important?”
“I wouldn’t have taken it otherwise. If I fail, the universe will be changed forever, and not in a good way.”
“Does the departure of Anguissa’s ship have something to do with it?”
“I’m not sure.” Bond saw her skepticism. “I’m not!” He thought about it. “Possibly.”
“Is Anguissa in danger?”
“Anguissa is always in peril of one kind or another,” Bond said gently. “I think she cultivates it.”
“I think she likes it,” Percipia agreed. “She told me once that it made her feel alive.”
Bond nodded. “Yes. I can understand that.”
She surveyed him again. “Will you miss being mortal?”
“Probably not.”
She was shocked and turned away from him again, staring out over the mountain range. Bond felt as if he’d disappointed her, but reminded himself that he couldn’t let his brethren down. He’d already told Percipia too much. As the sun rose higher, the reflections from the snow were brighter and he had to narrow his eyes.
“Are you going to tell me who they were?” she asked finally, her tone revealing her expectation of his reply.
It was obvious that she meant the people pursuing him.
Bond saw no reason to withhold the truth. “I don’t know, actually.”
“You know who sent them, though.”
He nodded and averted his gaze. “I can guess.”
“Because you know what they wanted.”
“Me dead. It’s not that complicated.”
“Why didn’t you just shift shape when we were cornered?” she asked with curiosity and Bond was startled by the question.
He frowned. “I’m not a shape shifter.”
“Because you lost your wings?”
He was amused by her choice of words. “I didn’t lose them, the way you might misplace an access code. I volunteered to sacrifice them.”
“Why?”
“To assume the quest. To pass amongst you, unnoticed.”
That flush stained her cheeks again and she dropped her gaze shyly. “I would notice you anywhere,” she confessed in a low voice, one that sent a thrill through him.
It also reminded him of her terms.
“Is that because of the Seed?”
She nodded with conviction. “The scent of the Seed multiplies the reaction, but I think I’d notice you even without it.”
Bond found himself flattered and pleased.
“I can’t think of a single quest that would convince me to surrender my wings,” she said then.
“You might be surprised,” he replied, hearing humor in his own tone.
“What’s it like, being an angel?”
“It’s different than being a mortal man.”
“In what way?”
“In every way.”
“What do you miss the most?”
Bond had to think about that. One thing he liked about Percipia was that she waited. She was patient when it mattered and he respected that. She was also curious about his nature and he found himself wanting to confide in her. Maybe if he confided in her, she’d remember him.
She’d have something to tell the child they conceived.
Bond liked that idea. He stared into the distance, his thumb caressing the spine of Sansor’s book, as he sought the right words to share his essence with the princess who would bear his child.
Percipia watched Bond as he thought, liking that he was taking the time to answer her questions honestly. There was a lovely sizzle between them, a frisson of awareness that was new to Percipia and sexual, coupled with a feeling of ease, as if they were old friends—or as if they could have become friends, given the time they didn’t have. She felt greedy about these moments with him, because she wanted to know as much as possible.
She could fly him to Finis Island in a day. They had time.
She was keenly aware of the heat of his thigh beside her own, of the sound of his breathing and even the beating of his heart. His hair blew a bit in the wind and she wondered if he realized how he kept turning his face toward it.
He did miss flying.
That made perfect sense to her.
“Being invulnerable,” Bond admitted finally. “And having intellectual union with all of my kind.” He grinned. “I like knowing everything instantly. I miss that.”
Percipia could imagine. “You can hear their thoughts?”
“I suppose you could explain it like that. It feels more as if there is one thought or one stream of thoughts.” He shook a finger at her. “Imagine that you’re at a party and you can hear the thoughts of the people close to you, and hear them so clearly that they seem to be your own.”
Percipia nodded. “Okay.”
“And then, as you move through the party, you hear more thoughts and more exchanges.”
Understanding dawned within her. “Different ones depending upon your proximity to others.”
“It’s similar, but time and space are irrelevant to angels.” He grimaced. “The analogy isn’t perfect.”
“But how can time and space be irrelevant?”
“We’re timeless and endure forever. We’re not bound by physical constraints in any way.” He smiled. “We can be everywhere and nowhere.”
Percipia didn’t understand that at all. “How do you move around at th
is party and hear other thoughts?”
“My focus of attention moves, not my being. Or maybe it’s the thoughts that move. I’m not sure. I just know that if I think of Raphael, for example, I’m more aware of the thoughts he’s sifting and generating. It’s similar to proximity but not the same.”
Percipia tried to accept that. “But you don’t die. Ever.”
“No. We exist but don’t live, not the way you do.”
“So, you can’t be in danger, then. There’s nothing to lose.”
“The stakes are always about other creatures and beings, and their survival, not ours.”
“Don’t you miss that?”
His smile was quick. “Yes and no. There’s something thrilling about danger and risk.” His eyes shone as he glanced her way and Percipia’s heart skipped. “Something seductive about sensation. I can’t resist it.” His gaze dropped to her lips and she licked them, unable to stop herself. When his gaze darkened, she felt warm all over.
She put her hand on his and he turned his over, smiling as he clasped their hands together.
“It’s so potent to be alive,” he whispered.
“But immortal. I can’t imagine that.”
“We existed before the first light was sparked and will still exist after the last star is extinguished.”
“I’ve never met anyone outside of my family who was older than me.”
Again, his smile was quick and wicked. “You should leave Incendium.”
“Space travel is for Anguissa. I’m happy to stay here.” Percipia drained her cup. “How old are you?”
“I don’t know,” Bond admitted. “As old as time. Older than time! It doesn’t matter in the celestial realm.”
“But you gave that up, by choice?”
Bond nodded, his eyes narrowed. He looked grim and resolved now, and no less handsome. “The stakes demanded it.” He met her gaze steadily. “The task had to be done.”
“I’m guessing that the task is the reason those four were trying to kill you.”
Bond didn’t reply.
Percipia frowned then. “Can you die?”
“In this guise? Of course. I have taken flesh and am therefore mortal.”
“Forever?”
Bond shook his head. “Nothing is forever in the mortal realm. That’s both its charm and its poignancy.”
Wyvern’s Angel: The Dragons of Incendium #9 Page 11
