“He’s guarding ye. Dey have ta go tru him ta get ta ye.”
“Yeah,” I agree as I continue through the room and to the door that leads to the rotunda outside it, “he’s a bit possessive—kind of like all the men in my life.”
“Ye tend ta bring dat out in us.”
“Sure. Blame the victim.”
He ignores me. “Except for Emil. I tink he jus wants ta end ye.” The truth of Brennus’ statement brings fear. I know the danger I’m in. Emil can tell tomorrow by where we’ve been. I have very few memories of him—only the ones from Lille.
We pause outside the doorway overlooking the center of the rotunda. We’re across from the giant glass-cut angel statues on the other side of the track-like passageway. His proximity to me is intimate—unnerving—especially because it’s just the two of us here. Brennus backs off the edge of the balcony. His strong wings beat the air as he hovers in front of me. “Has yer flying gotten any better?” he asks.
My wings arch out around me to half extension. “I can hold my own.”
He studies the shapes my wings take before he gives me a cheeky grin and replies, “Ye can.”
He turns away from me and flies upward, past several balconies and tunnels that lead away from the rotunda. I follow him up all the way to the peak of the glass dome. Sunlight is obscured by snow and ice, but there are enough scattered drifts in it to be able to see out.
The rim of the dome has silver filigree carved in the shape of angel wings. I hold onto the stone ledge that meets the silver edge, my wings keeping me aloft as I peer outside at the mountain peaks and snow beyond. There could be an ocean off in the distance, but it could also be refracted light of the bluest hue coming off the icy snow.
The air around me stirs from Brennus’ wings as he poises beside me. “Da northern hemisphere—at da bottom of da world.”
I give him a funny look. “How do you know we’re not in the southern hemisphere?”
“I can tell da difference. Da magnetic pull stirs in a different direction from pole ta pole. In time, ye’ll learn ta differentiate between dem.”
“If you’re so intuitive, why are you calling the northern hemisphere the bottom of the world?”
Brennus’ eyebrows rise in challenge. “’Tis a matter of perspective, is it na? Change yer angle and everyting changes. ’Tis all in how ye look at a ting. Ye should try turning a map upside down once in awhile. Everyting looks different when ye do.”
What he says makes sense. “You always surprise me, Brennus,” I admit.
“Surprisin’ ye has become a bit of an obsession of moin,” he murmurs with a sexy smile. “Come. Let’s see whah lies below.” Brennus’ green eyes dance as he retracts his black wings and free-falls through the hollow of the mountain. He’s not looking at the approaching ground, but instead, he has his back to the floor as he stares up at me.
I face him as I follow him, pulling my wings in and feeling the thrill of speed while I fall away from the natural light. My hair flies back from my face, tangling behind me. Level after level rushes by in flight. I’m not weightless with Brennus just inches beneath me. It could be him pulling me down as much as gravity. To be alone with him in this place is a dream of falling with no ending—just he and I—out of sight.
As we near the ground, fear grows that he’ll crash into it. From deep within me, I’m compelled to rescue him from impending doom. Before I can conjure a spell, however, one that will stop him from splattering all over the stone floor, my hair falls forward around my face. I’m caught in stasis for a moment, neither moving nor falling. I stare into his eyes, so close to mine, and I think for a moment that it might be okay if we never come down. Neither of us is here of our own free will—not really. We were both somehow forced to climb this hill, be these monsters, and our inevitable fall will probably destroy us both.
Brennus guides our landing, in one moment turning us from a horizontal position of falling to a vertical one where his feet touch the ground first. He draws me to him. My hands rest upon his shoulders as I slide down his chest. When my feet are firmly on the floor, I let him go, flushed by the intimate contact.
The sound of rushing water draws my attention away from Brennus. Water runs over the ice walls surrounding us. It drains through a grated edge, but some mist wets the stone tiles near it. A round labyrinth twists its way over the floor with a pattern tiled in shades of blues. Xavier had mentioned it to me earlier—it’s a meditation maze. I’ve seen something similar to it in pictures of grand cathedrals, but it’s different being near one; there’s an innate sacredness to it that invades my senses.