Percipia was checking the stores to put together a meal for herself and Bond. They’d spent the day making love, over and over again, laughing and teasing each other, snared in a warm glow of intimacy.

She loved the light in the Aerie at this time of day, when the sun was setting and the shadows were drawing long. The sky above the glass panel was streaked with a thousand colors and she could see the first stars coming out.

“Will they be missing you at the palace?” Bond asked, coming up behind her and planting a kiss on the back of her neck.

Percipia smiled at the gesture. “Probably not. Enigma will tell them about the Seed.”

“How long does it usually take to claim the Seed?”

“It depends on the participants.”

He nodded, his gaze sliding around the cavern. “So, what do dragon shifter princesses do? Other than train to become excellent shots, and train to be able to run quickly?” He raised a hand. “Or captain star freighters?”

“Only Anguissa does that.”

“Were they really all your sisters?”

“They were all my sisters, but not all of my sisters,” Percipia clarified. Bond turned to look at her. “There are four more of us.”

“Anguissa.”

“Drakina, Gemma, and Thalina.” She frowned. “Thalina must be on the Archangel with Anguissa and Thalina’s Carrier of the Seed.”

Bond scowled and turned away to pace, his agitation feeding Percipia’s suspicions.

“They’re in danger, aren’t they?” Percipia asked quietly. Bond didn’t reply. “Callida said you have a reputation of being able to break any code.”

He turned to give her a steady look. “I managed the nav system of the Archangel. That was my responsibility as co-pilot.”

Percipia saw no reason to be coy. “What’s wrong with the ship? Did you hamper it in some way? And why?”

Bond heaved a sigh and pushed a hand through his hair. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now. No one can overhear us.”

Percipia nodded agreement. “It’s unlikely the triped could reach the Aerie.”

“Do you think the man you shot in the passageway is dead?”

“It’s always possible that any of the three of them could have been revived, but I think it would take longer than a day.” She eyed his shoulder and bit his lip. “Who were they?”

“Gloria Furore.” He said this calmly, as if it wasn’t a terrifying fact.

Percipia gasped. “Well, if you’re going to have enemies, they might as well be powerful ones. The four who pursued you could be of any kind. The Gloria Furore captures recruits in all systems.”

“Not my kind,” Bond said. “I would have known.”

Percipia recalled the flutter of feathers she’d heard in pursuit.

“Would you?” she asked. “Couldn’t there be other angels on missions like yours?”

He gave her a sharp look. “Why?”

“I heard wings. Feathered wings. Someone followed us when we left the city.”

“Couldn’t you see who it was?”

“No, there was a shield of some kind, cloaking its presence, but it had to have been as big as me in my dragon form because it kept up.”

Bond appeared to be alarmed.

“I thought it was an angel.”

“Impossible,” he said flatly. “The wings don’t manifest in the physical realm. Are you sure there’s no other kind of bird it could have been?”

Percipia shook her head.

“Are you sure we haven’t been followed here?”

“Positive.”

“Humor me,” he said, and she went to the opening, feeling a measure of his concern. But all she could see was the range of mountains, reflecting the last of the light. There wasn’t a hint of motion anywhere—she checked—and no sound of any approach.

“Nothing,” she said when she returned to the cavern. The soup was warm and Bond was serving it.

He wasn’t particularly reassured, she could see.

They sat down together to eat, his agitation tangible.

“Tell me,” Percipia urged. “I might be able to help.”

“You might.” Bond tasted the soup and appeared to be surprised that it was good.

“We’re fussy about pleasures of the flesh,” she said and he smiled for a moment.

Then he put the bowl aside. “You know Anguissa, which means you know how she is.” He widened his eyes and Percipia nodded.

“Daring, reckless, impulsive,” she supplied. “Loyal, smart, sometimes funny.”

He shook his head. “All of that and more. The details are unimportant, but I was compelled to add a worm to the nav system of the Archangel.”

“What kind of worm?” Percipia asked, her hunger dismissed.

“This worm was very elegant. It was designed to sit quietly in the bowels of the computing system and count the number of jumps taken by the ship.”

“Why?”

“Because it was set to trigger after a certain number of jumps had occurred, then intervene and override the settings to take the vessel to a specific location in a specific quadrant.”

“Why?”

He raised his gaze to hers. “Because an old enemy of Anguissa’s would be there, waiting to destroy the Archangel.”

Percipia was concerned. “How many jumps?”

“That’s the interesting thing. The worm was linked to a random number generator. The number of jumps was determined by the generator after the worm’s installation, and there was no way to know what the setting was.”

“Until it was activated.”

Bond nodded.

Percipia got up to pace. “Did you create it?”

“No. I installed it.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t have a choice. I had to install it to prove that I was on the same side as the Gloria Furore.”

Percipia turned to stare at him. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because of course, I’m not, but I needed them to believe that I was. If they’d killed me, I’d never have been able to fulfill my mission, which I still might not fulfill.” He stood up to pace in his turn.

“But they’re hunting you.”

“So, it appears that my ploy didn’t work.”

“And the Archangel is still in danger from the worm.”

Bond nodded, looking as dissatisfied with this as Percipia felt. “My hope was that the vessel would make it back here to port without triggering the worm, then I could make my report and the worm would be irrelevant.”

“How could it become irrelevant?”

Bond gave her a look but didn’t reply.

Percipia understood. The Archangel was going to be destroyed or stolen as part of his mission from the angelic Host.

“Of course, I wasn’t counting on Anguissa deciding to leave almost immediately, headed for points unknown.”

“And you can’t guess whether the worm has been activated?”

He shook his head, looking miserable.

“So she and Thalina could be dead by now.”

“Or they could have no idea of their peril.” He raised his hands in frustration.

Percipia pushed her fingers through her hair. “But why? What’s so special about the Archangel?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Bond said and picked up his soup again. He ate it quickly, obviously distracted, and she was sure he didn’t even taste it.

“You won’t tell me that,” she countered and he met her gaze.

“No, I won’t, for your own safety.” Their gazes held for a potent moment, then he looked down at her stomach. “Do you think it was enough?”

“You think you can admit that you might be responsible for killing two of my sisters then we’ll just make love again?”

“We don’t know for sure.”

“You’ll never know for sure.”

“No.” Bond looked dissatisfied. “And I’d like to do something right before I’m gone from the mortal realm for good.”

“The angels need the ship.” Percipia sat down opposite him. “Tell me why.”

He exhaled in a long sigh, then he leaned closer and lowered his voice. “My quest was to locate the item that is now locked in the cargo hold of the Archangel.” He raised his gaze to hers. “If the vessel is destroyed, that cargo will be scattered, which will not be a good thing. It needs to be destroyed systematically and thoroughly.”

He was so serious that Percipia was afraid. “Is it toxic?”

“Yes.”

“Infectious?”

“Yes.”

“If my sisters survive, will they be hurt by it?”

“Not if they leave it untouched.”

She watched him for a long moment. “So, you can’t complete your quest, because you can’t say where the Archangel is.”

Bond nodded. “I’ll still go to the rendezvous. I’ll still report to the Host and tell them what I’ve learned. I’m not sure it’s enough.”

“What happens if you don’t get your wings back?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his tone desolate. “I never truly thought I would fail.”

“Can’t you get an extension to finish your quest?”

He shook his head. “No. That’s not how it works.”

Percipia’s heart squeezed as she studied him, then she reached out and touched his hand. “What if I could help,” she asked, liking the hope in his gaze when he looked up at her. “We have two days left until your rendezvous and I can fly you to Finis Island in one. Why don’t you explain to me what remains undone? If the Archangel returns to port, I might be able to finish your quest.”

His smile was radiant and made her heart pound. “How generous you are, Percipia,” he murmured. “Let me think about it and see if I can figure out how to take advantage of your offer.” His eyes shone. “In the meantime, maybe we should make sure about that Seed.”

Percipia found herself blushing again. “We could go to Gela tomorrow, too. It’s not that far and I like it there. We could shop and eat and rent a luxurious hotel room, have a day devoted to the pleasures of the flesh. We could make memories.”

“For you,” he said softly, then his eyes began to glow. “We could make memories for you to share with our child.”

Percipia had a thought. “If I capture images of you, will they disappear when you do?”

“I don’t know.”

She wondered then if she was doomed to forget Bond, and that possibility made her sad. How much of a trace could he leave in the mortal realm? The prospect of it being nothing at all left her cold inside, and then she remembered that she’d have his child.

She reached for him then, wanting the solace of his touch.

She wouldn’t be able to enjoy it much longer, after all.

It was raining the next morning when Bond met Percipia at the opening to the cavern. As much as he had enjoyed their time together in the Aerie, he was ready to enjoy different material comforts than the ones offered here. He was glad of the rain. He always liked the look of it, silver drops in the air, and the feel of it on his skin. He liked how the air changed and the wind softened and the light seemed luminescent in itself.

Was she right about them being followed here?

Could she finish his quest?

She smiled at him and he offered her the book. “So, you can give it back to Sansor,” he said when she looked surprised.

She laughed. “You were going to steal a Starpod but you’re making sure this gets returned?”

“One Starpod is pretty much like another. They can be replaced. A book, though, is another thing.” He ran an admiring finger across the cover, then surrendered the book to her. “A book filled with one person’s notes, with thoughts that aren’t recorded anywhere else in the universe, is a rare and precious thing. I’m sure your friend will be glad of its return.”

“I’m sure he will be,” she agreed, then eyed him. “He betrayed us, but you want to return his book.”

“Yes,” Bond said, holding her gaze. “Will you forgive him, too?”

Percipia studied him for a long moment, then tucked the book into the pouch on her belt. “I’ll try,” she admitted quietly.

She considered the sky and took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing against the slight breeze.

“Intruders at the gate?” he teased.

“Not one,” she said with satisfaction, then began to shimmer.

Bond tried to watch her transformation because her ability fascinated him. But the golden light grew brighter and brighter, so bright that he had to shield his eyes. Then he heard the flap of leathery wings and opened his eyes to find Percipia before him in her dragon form.

The gold of her scales glistened and the red scales gleamed like polished metal. He looked into the vivid blue of her eyes and noticed how they glittered with intelligence.

This was another sight he would have liked to remember.

She offered one claw to him and he put his hand in her grasp. He caught his breath as she leaped into the air and beat her wings, then soared high with him safely in her grasp. He laughed aloud, loving the feel of the wind, and he heard her chuckle. She wheeled high in the sky, almost close enough to touch the clouds, and he looked over the mountains, back toward Incendium. In the distance, the shuttles rose to the star station, which shone in its orbit high above.

But Percipia turned her back on that and flew toward the icy white peaks near the pole. He could see smoke rising from a settlement far ahead and guessed that was her destination. A road wound through the mountains to it, then diminished to nothing beyond it. Could he discern the darkness of the sea in the distance? He couldn’t see Finis Island, even from this height, but maybe Percipia could.

“Are we being followed?” he asked, trusting her sharper senses.

“I don’t think so.”

“You never told me what you do,” he prompted, then wondered if she would reply.

“Do?”

“As a princess of the realm.”

“I fulfill my regal obligations,” she said. “But my real passion is for fireworks.”

Bond was surprised. “Pyrotechnics displays? Entertainment?”

“Exactly! I’m intrigued by the exact balance of chemicals required to generate certain colors and plumes of different shapes. I like timing the display to music.”

“As entertainment?”

“And celebration.” She gestured with her other front claw. “See what looks like a moon there?”

Bond nodded. “I thought Incendium didn’t have a moon?”

“It doesn’t. That’s Regalia, where my sister Gemma is queen and her husband Venero is king.”

“Is he the Carrier of her Seed?”

“He was. She’s pregnant now with their child.” Percipia paused. “He’s also her HeartKeeper.”

“Should I know what that means?”

“Some of our kind find more than the chance to reproduce when they meet the Carrier of the Seed. Some find partnership and love. When that happens, the partner who isn’t a dragon shifter has the opportunity to drink a potion and match his longevity to that of his dragon mate. It only works if their love is reciprocated.”

“Had you wanted or expected that?”

Percipia shook her head. “I always thought it was romantic nonsense.”

Bond knew he should have been relieved, because there was no chance of him being a HeartKeeper, but he wasn’t. He felt a bit irked instead.

“So that was what Sansor meant?”

She nodded. “I guess he thought we could fall in love and he could drink the potion. It would add significantly to his reading time.”

Bond asked what he most wanted to know. “Will you choose him?”

Percipia gave him a scathing look, which was reassuring. “A man who betrayed me? Never!” There was heat in her words.

“Will you retaliate against him?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s tempting but I think the disappointment will be enough punishment for him.” She sighed and met his gaze. “That may be as close as I can come to forgiving him.”

Bond was glad that she wasn’t vengeful or didn’t abuse her power in any way. “What’s your current project then?” he asked, wanting to know more.

“A simultaneous display, here and on Regalia, to commemorate the naming ceremony for Gemma and Venero’s child.”

“Sounds spectacular.” Bond had a sudden urge to watch one of her displays, just to better understand what she did.

“It will be, if I can solve a problem with the synchronization of the timers.”

“Can I help?”

She hesitated, then glanced down at him. “I don’t know.” She dove down then, making a spiraling descent to the ground and landed on the road. As soon as her feet had touched the ground, she shifted shape, then pulled up her sleeve to peel the computing device from her arm. She glanced pointedly at Bond’s arm and he shoved his own sleeve up. “The power supply feeds off your heartbeat,” she said, tapping the controls to calibrate it. Bond watched, well familiar with this kind of device. “There’s a simulation of the display here, and the code controlling the timers is here. They’re integrated so you immediately see the results of any changes. Let me duplicate it so there’s a back-up...”

“I can do all of that,” Bond said with confidence. “Let me see what I can do by the time we get to Gela.”

She smiled at him, her eyes dancing with pleasure. “I have some notes on nuances in the propagation of Dystarian numerals...”

“I know all about them. Leave it to me.” Truth be told, Bond was glad to have something to contribute, even if it would just ensure the entertainment of the citizens of Incendium for a short period of time. He was immersed in the code and the logic of her design by the time she was airborne again, and barely noticed the wind or the rain. He worked steadily, testing and then experimenting, admiring the elegance of her systems even as he sought the piece that was keeping it from perfection.

That was when he had the idea of leaving a bit of code as a souvenir.

Percipia would understand it, given her expertise.

He could leave a beacon to be triggered for the Host, in case the Archangel returned to Incendium’s port. Once the vessel was empty, Percipia could draw the attention of the Host to its precise location at a precise moment. He remembered how time and space were difficult to distinguish in the celestial realm, but knew the Host would respond to this. He wouldn’t automate it, because it was important to ensure that the vessel was empty before it was incinerated with angelfire.

Bond smiled as he worked, liking that he could leave this legacy and ensure that part of his quest was fulfilled even after his own departure. He worked away, ignoring their flight until Percipia spoke.

“What do you want me to tell our child about you?” she asked quietly.

Bond blinked, then thought about that, wanting to give her an honest answer. “That I admired his or her mother, and wish I could have the chance to learn everything about her.” It was true, all true, and he felt Percipia catch her breath.

He could see Gela not too far ahead of them and she gracefully descended so that she could shift behind a curve in the road. Once again, as soon as her toes touched the ground, she changed shape. The power of her shift awed him all over again.

“I don’t like to have an audience for this,” she said, that shy blush on her cheeks again.

“For shifting?” Bond asked and her smile heated.

“For this,” she whispered, then framed his face in her hands and kissed him.

Percipia didn’t even hear the rustle of wings before the attack. She was taken completely by surprise.

The attacker fell on her silently from above, digging claws deeply into her shoulders. She had a glimpse of a great hooked beak and feathers of a thousand shades of black, before she shoved Bond beneath her and summoned the change. She shifted shape with a roar and leaped after her attacker.

It was a massive black griffin.

She felt the laze fire blast past her shoulder, leaving a smoking hole in the assailant’s wings. The griffin was undeterred.

Percipia had never seen the like of it, nor had she ever faced a foe with such a hunger for blood. The beast snarled then bit off the end of one of her wings, ripping it free then swallowing it. Its eyes shone with malice but it dodged Bond’s next shot.

Percipia breathed fire on the griffin, but it seemed to make no difference. The beast shimmered but didn’t burn. Percipia slashed at her opponent, but it evaded her grasp, flying higher.

Percipia pursued it.

She soared high into the sky, well out of the range of Bond’s laze. She heard him bellow with frustration, but she was sure she could defeat the griffin high in the sky and keep Bond safe. They battled, rolling end over end, biting and clawing at each other, then the creature moved with sudden speed. It jumped over her and landed on her back. She twisted in her effort to dislodge the griffin, but its talons had sunk deep.

There was something on their tips, something that Percipia felt slipping into her body. It was already making her reactions sluggish and she felt drowsy. She raged dragonfire at her foe, who laughed.

Laughed.

They were high above the ground, far away from Bond. Percipia did her best to escape the griffin before she succumbed. She struggled and fought desperately, then felt her own flesh tear.

The griffin ripped one of her wings free.

The pain was so excruciating that Percipia screamed. She looked back to see the griffin cast the wing aside gleefully. She raged fire at her opponent, who tore the second wing free with astonishing strength.

Then the griffin laughed again and released her.

Percipia saw the ground approaching with dizzying speed. She felt the blood flowing from her wounds and knew there was nothing she could do to save herself. She shifted just moments before striking the ground, thinking it might be better to be smaller at the time of impact.

She closed her eyes and wished the end could have been different, wished she could have kissed Bond one last time, wished he could have completed his mission.

And then she was snatched out of the air.

Bond watched in horror as Percipia was mutilated then left to die. He watched her fall, feeling more impotent than he ever had before. He ran toward the place she would land, knowing there wasn’t a single thing he could do to save her and hating it.

The griffin had disappeared, as surely as if it had never been.

It was no normal griffin, then, but the details were unimportant to Bond in that moment. He saw the gleaming red and gold of Percipia’s dragon form falling toward him, then she shimmered in that familiar way. She was in her human form, then, still bleeding copiously, and he dared to hope he could catch her. He positioned himself, braced his feet against the ground and opened his arms, knowing that they would both be very injured.

But the griffin appeared suddenly above her, a great black shadow. It snatched at her and Bond shouted in rage. He thought the villain would snatch her away, but the griffin cackled, then lowered Percipia to the ground.

“Let her suffer longer,” the great bird whispered, it had a woman’s voice.

Its words were filled with malice.

It turned its bright gaze upon Bond and seemed to sneer. “Let you have to wrestle with the choice.”

“What choice?” he asked, itching to incinerate the creature but needing to hear its words. He pulled both lazes, keeping his hands at his sides. The griffin considered the weapons and cackled again.

“Will you use the last of your power to heal her?” the griffin asked. “Or will you use it to learn what secret is hidden in my soul?” It landed and hopped toward him. “You’re almost spent, Boel. If you do neither, you might live until the rendezvous, if you can reach it. You might be able to save this dragon shifter. You might be able to find the revelation you need in my soul. But you cannot do all three.” She leaned closer, and shifted shape before his eyes, becoming a serpent with the same shining eyes. “Which means you will fail.”

She laughed again, then shifted shape, becoming a radiant angel with eyes of fire. She was a parody of what Bond knew to be good and right, a horrific sight as she flapped before him.

She was a shapeshifter trying to deceive him, not one of his own kind.

“Choose wisely, Boel,” she taunted and Bond chose.

He summoned the last of his strength and peered into the villain’s soul. He endured its filthy darkness, digging deeper to find the gem she sought to hide from him. It was a formula, a sequence of numbers and letters. A chemical formula.

An antidote.

Bond sent his will after it and ferreted it out, memorizing the long string even as it was revealed to him. And when he reached the end, he raised both hands and fired. He shot his lazes at the abomination before him.

She flapped above him, charred, smoking, but not dead.

Then she became a mirror and Bond couldn’t stop his laze quickly enough to avoid the reflection of the blast. It singed him in the shoulder, in the leg, in the back when he fell to his knees. She laughed again and he felt two lines of fire on his back. He didn’t know how she recalled the pain of his injury to him, or whether he shared Percipia’s anguish. He forced himself to keep his eyes open and watch his assailant shift shape, hoping she would reveal her identity. She was an eagle. She was a mouse. She was a plume of smoke. She was a woman in trailing robes with hatred in her eyes. He fired the laze at her and she screamed when the blast hit her leg. Bond fired until both lazes were empty of charge, wanting to destroy this creature that had taken so much from him.

She became a griffin again, one with blood running from her leg. She was an angel soaring high above, an angel with tarnished wings and eyes of fire, an angel that trailed blood into the sky, an angel that suddenly disappeared as if she had never been.

Bond closed his eyes and licked his parched lips.

He was alone with Percipia, blood on all sides. Did he dare to hope their attacker would leave them alone?

If she came back, she might destroy Bond completely.

He crawled to Percipia and laid his hands upon her back, drawing the last of his power in an attempt to at least staunch the bleeding. He feared she would die, that they both would die, and all of this, his entire mortal existence would have been an exercise in futility. He drew his healing power from the last of his reserves and he poured it into Percipia, wishing he could heal her with his determination alone. Her skin heated beneath his hands and that white power of healing seared his mind.

Like angelfire.

Because it was angelfire, the greatest healing force of all.

And then it was spent, gone, vanished from within him. Bond looked down at the motionless Percipia and felt his tears rise. He had failed her when it mattered most.

But she was alive, and so was he.

He was only mortal now, devoid of all his gifts and powers, but it would have to be enough. He had to carry Percipia to Gela and then steal a Starpod.

He would take her to the angels and beg for their intercession.

The stolen Starpod ran out of fuel when Finis Island was in sight.

Bond hadn’t had nearly enough choices in Gela to suit him. It was an artist colony and there had been few Starpods. The selection was paltry, the models all old, and none of them had been fully charged. He’d made his best guess.

He was afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

Bond had stopped repeatedly to let the solar panels recharge, but they were old and inefficient. He’d jettisoned everything that he could spare and there was nothing to do but hope for the best. He wasn’t going to leave Percipia behind. She needed the intervention of the Host. Progress was slow and painful, and there wasn’t another sign of life as far as he could see.

By late afternoon on the following day, Bond was more exhausted than he’d ever been. He’d poured his life force into Percipia with no discernible results. He felt that he was even lower on fuel than the Starpod.

But he had to get to the rendezvous.

He was worried about her, not just because he feared the memory of him in this realm would die with her. He wanted to know that she survived. He wanted her to have her wings back, although he couldn’t imagine how that would happen. He hated that her involvement with him might cost her life. She hadn’t awakened since being injured and she was pale. Bond knew he would have given anything to see that golden shimmer surround her or the flash of her eyes.

He kept looking back, scanning the sky for signs of pursuit, but wasn’t relieved that he didn’t find any. To be pursued by a shapeshifter meant that attack could come from any direction.

The Starpod crash-landed into the dark sea, not far from the coast of the island. It splashed, then skimmed across the surface of the water, propelled by its momentum. Bond didn’t want to think about needing to swim but the Starpod smashed into the rough rocks of the shoreline before coming to a halt.

Upside down.

He heard the water lapping at the exterior and didn’t waste any time escaping the Starpod. He pushed Percipia out first, then followed her, picking her up and wading the last distance to dry land. When he had climbed to safety, he looked back in time to see the vessel tugged away by the tide. It floated, then slowly filled with water and sank out of sight.

He was exhausted.

Bond picked up Percipia and began to walk toward the middle of the island. The sun seemed closer to the horizon and the air was definitely colder. He hurried as quickly as he could, hoping that the Host could heal her.

And that they would.

Bond’s journey was a haze of pain and cold and pending darkness. He stumbled onto the central plain with relief and saw the first glimmer of angelfire high overhead. He summoned the last of his strength then and ran, holding Percipia close. He was panting, his heart racing, perspiration running down his back, but he made it to the designated location.

He closed his eyes and tipped back his head, hearing himself sigh at the first touch of that divine fire on his skin.

“Bond?” Percipia murmured and he bent to kiss her sweetly, slowly, knowing it would be the last time.

“We made it,” he whispered in reply. “We made it because of you.”

“I wasn’t the one who got us here from Gela,” she said, humor in her voice but Bond shook his head.

“I would have died in Incendium without you.” He met her gaze and stared into the blue splendor of her eyes.

“The griffin,” she said dazedly, then shook her head. “Did that happen?”

“Can’t you feel it?”

Her tears rose. “My wings?”

He held her close. “Gone.” He wouldn’t promise what wasn’t his to give. He hoped again that the Host would be merciful.

“Do you know who it was?”

“A shapeshifter,” he said as the light brightened above. “Her true form might be that of a woman.” He met Percipia’s gaze. “You must be on your guard. She was a griffin, a snake, a woman, a wisp of smoke, and an angel.”

Percipia nodded. “And she hid herself from view.” She frowned. “Do you believe in spells, Bond?”

He smiled. “Only the one you cast over me.”

She smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll survive.”

“I wish I could have had the time to become your HeartKeeper,” he confessed and saw her eyes fill with tears.

“Me, too.” She raised a hand to his cheek, then stretched to brush her lips across his.

“Close your eyes,” he advised. “No one can look upon angelfire but a member of the Host.”

“Because it’s dangerous or because it’s forbidden?”

“Both. It will blind you, if not more.” He kissed her eyelids and she kept them closed. He looked at her, illuminated by the radiant light, and wished again to have one memory to take with him.

Bond’s heart ached so much that he thought it would shatter, but there was nothing he could do to change the truth. He looked up again, his eyes stinging as the Host descended in its glory and majesty. He heard the angels sing and his own tears rose at the beauty of their chorus. The light of the angelfire grew searing in its brilliance and he closed his eyes, seeing red as their power burned against his eyelids.

He felt himself rise slightly and felt Percipia ease out of his embrace. He couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet or the wind in his hair. He heard instead the whisper of a thousand thoughts, the flutter of a million feathers, the heat of angelfire.

The Host had come for him.

Bond raised his hands, surrendering to the power of his fellows. He opened his mind to them, letting them share his thoughts and all that he had learned.

I have failed in my quest, but beg your intercession for this one who has helped me. I offer the antidote to the virus and the tale of the beacon that will come, my wings, my soul, all that I am and ever will be, and I entreat you to heal this dragon shifter.

Bond heard the song grow louder and felt the light brighten even more. He heard thousands if not millions of angelic voices join the chorus and add their radiance to the angelfire.

He sensed the consideration of his request.

He felt his offering accepted, the chemical formula unfurling from his thoughts into the greater consciousness of the host. Then he felt a familiar joy as his essence surged skyward, free to fly once again, spared the pain and burden of a material form.

As he became again what he was destined to be.

He felt the power and majesty of his wings, sprouting from his back then spreading wide. He felt the exhilaration of flying with his fellows, of being surrounded by them, of the companionship of their thoughts all around him.

Then he looked down upon the dragon shifter princess who had won his heart, the valiant woman who would carry his child.

He saw the angelfire engulf her in brilliance and knew a profound relief that his prayers had been answered.

She was being healed. He saw her change form, shifting from woman to dragon, and saw the restoration of her wings. Her scales shone in the angelfire, reflecting it brilliantly, making her look as if she was made of jewels. She stretched her wings wide and laughed with joy, so hale and whole that Bond knew her eyes would be sparkling.

She would be able to fly back to Incendium, her wings restored.

Bond hoped that she would remember him.

She took flight in her dragon form, soaring high as the Host retreated from the rendezvous. It was as if she didn’t want to lose the touch of the angelfire and Bond felt the amusement and admiration of his fellows.

Then they soared much higher, moving faster than the speed of light, and the solitary dragon was left far behind. She was silhouetted against the white ground of Finis Island, a red and gold dragon becoming ever smaller, until Bond couldn’t discern her shape at all.

Incendium itself became no more than a distant orb and the stars swirled around the Host, as if in welcome.

Then Bond wept as his own memories were swept away like so many cobwebs, like a morning mist before a persistent breeze, and there was only the brilliant light of angelfire and the communion with his fellows.

Percipia felt the heat of the angelfire and dared to peek through her lashes to see them descend. She knew she’d never experience this moment again. Her strongest impression was of white hot light, searing in its brilliance, but she glimpsed faces in it and caught sight of wings. She heard a rustling of feathers and a song just beyond earshot, one she couldn’t quite discern. She couldn’t hear the words but she felt a persistent tug of joy at the sound and found herself smiling.

She felt rather than saw the presence of the Host around them and sensed their concern for Bond.

“Boel,” a whisper corrected in her own thoughts.

“Keeper of the keys,” came another whisper, and she sensed that it was from a different source even though it sounded so similar.

Bond’s face was upturned, his expression rapturous, and she understood his feeling of triumph and homecoming. She slipped from his arms, standing on her own feet. She squeezed his hand, then stepped back, uncertain whether he’d even felt her farewell.

She narrowed her eyes against the brightness and tried to watch, wanting and needing to know what would happen to him.

What he was.

Bond was becoming less substantial. Even in that brief interval, he had become more of a mist than a man. It was as if the angelfire was dissolving him, breaking him down, returning him to thousands of tiny white feathers. His figure seemed to be filled with feathers, then they fluttered to the ground, slowly at first then with increasing speed. She caught her breath when his hands were gone, his shoulders, the strength that she had caressed and loved. The last flurry took his face and she blinked back her tears, hating that she would never see him again.

The only thing that remained was two brilliant red lines, and she had the impression that his scars had caught fire. Then she saw a pair of tall wings, their roots replacing those scars. They were gloriously lush and shone with a luster of their own, sweeping out to a span as wide as her own. They shimmered once, like a ghostly apparition of what he had once been, then were replaced by thousands of tiny white feathers, falling to the ground like snow.

Percipia saw the feathers glimmering on the ground, reflecting the angelfire from above, and she bent to scoop up a handful of them, wishing she could keep just one.

Then she cried out in pain because the angelfire seared her back. She understood that the Host was healing her and turned around to face them, spreading her hands in supplication and closing her eyes, submitting to their fire.

It stole her breath away, slicing through her with savage heat. She feared for an instant that they would kill her, either by accident or design, but then she felt the wound turn warm. She could almost feel the muscle healing, and she gasped aloud at the power of the Host. She shifted shape without having chosen to do so, and understood that the Host were completing their task. By the time the heat had faded to a glow, she felt as if she’d never been injured at all.

She realized then that the light of the angelfire was fading. She took flight and followed them as they ascended, not wanting to lose Bond forever. She watched as the Host retreated and left her behind, a lump in her throat as the shimmering white light moved farther and farther away. There was one last glimmer, as if the stars winked, then the light of the angelfire was gone.

The air was cold. Percipia shivered and descended, shifting back to her human form when she landed on Finis Island again. The land was bleak and bare, as if the angels hadn’t come at all, as if it had all been a figment of her imagination.

As if Bond had not been real.

Percipia swallowed the lump in her throat, then looked down at the ground.

There was one small pearlescent feather at her feet.

She bent and carefully picked it up, halfway certain it would disappear. When it didn’t, she tucked it into the pouch on her belt, as a gift for her child.

Their child.

Percipia wiped her tears. She spared one last glance toward the heavens, trusting that Bond was happier to be with his fellows again. She hoped he remembered her, but knew she would never forget him.

She shivered again, then summoned the tide of change, letting the shift rip through her body. It made every sinew vibrate and surged through every fiber of her being, reminding her that she was alive. Her wings spread high and wide behind her, whole and healed, a gift from the angels themselves.

And Bond.

Percipia took flight and headed for the palace, a warm meal, and a soft bed.