He thought he had not quite reached that place, but he would soon.
Each day he held off was a day they could both live in the present without dealing with pressure, concerns of the future or other implications. Each day gave her more opportunity to fall in love with him in return. She was steady and reliable, intelligent and caring, and each day he grew to trust her more and more. If she fell in love with him, she would never let him go. She was made for a lifetime of marriage.
He had so much to say to her, words upon words that piled up in his chest.
How tired he had become of everything in his life. How much he was looking forward to giving up the constant travel, and how he was looking forward to the adventure of learning what it meant to have a home life. To have a real home with someone who relished nesting, and who could teach him all the best ways to enjoy it. And how much he was looking forward to taking her traveling from time to time, and relearning how to love the experience of new things through her wonder and delight.
They could find an ideal balance between both lifestyles, living not one or the other, but a little bit of both. He knew it.
He knew it.
The conviction renewed his determination to find a way to break the curse. Everything he could possibly want was just within his grasp, and he refused to relinquish any of it.
He could live blind with her, if he had to. When they talked alone, she broached the subject constantly with kindness, pragmatism and optimism, until gradually she convinced him of it.
She had read articles about a blinded avian Wyr who took regular flights with her companion avian Wyr, her mate, who flew along with her. They coasted thermals together for hours. When it came time to end the flight, he would come up underneath his mate in midflight. Then she could grab hold of him and he would bring them both safely down to the ground.
“All we would need to do is find you a seeing-eye Wyr,” Olivia said, her head on his chest. “Not that it will come to that.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead and didn’t reply, because they both knew if he was going to continue flying that it might.
In the meantime, when she was working, he flew every chance he could. The others didn’t mind his absence. The security team’s duties were light while the symbologists packed the library, and in any case, they cared about him enough to stay silent.
He relished the warmth of the sun on his wings as he circled around their end of the island. Often he closed his eyes as he rode thermals and imagined that other mated pair of avian Wyr.
He did so now, drifting through the air almost drowsily.
The job of packing would be finished in another week, then everybody would be busy transporting the containers across the passageway. By the time they were finished, reports from all his research teams would be waiting for him on the yacht.
If they had not found anything that could help him, he would consult with the Oracle right away. He did not expect that the teams would have found anything to contradict what Carling had already told him.
Tonight, he decided, he would ask Olivia if she would travel to Florida with him when he petitioned the Oracle.
Something flared against his magic sense from below, a hot, bright explosion from a Power that had become almost as familiar to him as his own.
Help.
His eyes snapped open. Olivia.
As quickly as the explosion had flared, it faded again.
He wheeled, folded his wings and hurtled down toward the cottage. On his dives he could reach speeds up to a hundred miles an hour. It didn’t feel fast enough.