This nest is too small, his dragon said, sounding disgruntled. Our mate deserves a palace.
She might not want a palace.
“I’m happy to eat the pastries as they are,” he said.
Bird slid the pastries onto a plate and brought out a cobalt blue teapot that she carried with both hands, which he suspected was her best.
He knew he must go hunting, but for a moment he allowed himself the pleasure of watching her hands as she carefully pinched up a small amount of the fragrant, richly colored brown leaves, then poured the water over it.
She set the tea and pastries on the table, then brought out two small porcelain cups, one white and gold, the other shades of blue. It was clear that though they did not match, she cherished them.
She sat down and fixed him with her serious gaze, her curly hair still tousled from falling in the sand. “I think I have my questions ordered in my mind.”
“Please, ask them,” he said, as she poured out gold-red tea, which filled the shabby kitchen with a familiar scent from his early years.
“First, what was that moon-shaped thing?”
Either he talked for hours, or he kept it simple. If she wanted to learn all the history, it would give him pleasure to make that happen—but at this moment, perhaps simple was best.
“The best translation is an Oracle Stone,” he said.
“So it tells the future?”
“No. The root to ‘oracle,’ I’m told, is ‘speak,’ which is closer to the meaning. At some point, very long ago, some of my people visited this coast. For whatever reason—whatever was here back then—they each spoke their lives, memories, and teachings into the stone, then sealed it and placed it along the shore where the water meets the land, and warded it so that only our kind would find it. But subsequent cataclysms seems to have buried it deep within the ground.”
“This is a quake-prone area,” she said.
“Whether the recent quake that partially revealed it was natural or caused by some force is yet to be determined, but that partial revelation was heard on the mythic plane by the empress of our kind. She lives in the mountains high in the north of China.”
“I think you mentioned an empress before. It didn’t sink in. A dragon empress?” Bird’s lips parted with amazement.
“Yes. It will give me great pleasure to introduce you to one another one day.”
Bird slid her hands up to her shoulders, her brow puckered. “I don’t know whether to look forward to it or dread it. She couldn’t possibly . . .”
He was up and out of his chair so fast that she nearly dropped her cup. He laid a finger on her lips. “Don’t say it,” he murmured into her hair. “There is only one Bird in the entire world. My mate. The empress will welcome you for that alone.” He backed away, lest she take fright at his intensity, and resumed his seat. “I think you will like one another. She, too, is a connoisseur of teas, and she loves opera.”
Bird clearly was dubious, but asked, “What do we have to do now that you have found the Oracle Stone?”
Not we. That was a vow. This was something he had to do alone.“I’ve put a binding on the area, which should hold until I figure a few things out.”
“Like, who sent those creatures to attack us?”
“And why they haven’t done anything until now. My guess is that the Oracle Stone is bound with more wards. I’ll have to determine that before we go breaking apart the cavern wall that still covers it. Other questions: if the enemy knows it is there, do they know what’s in it? Why haven’t they brought it out?”
“That does sound odd,” Bird began.
She jumped as someone rapped at the front door. A female voice called clearly, “Mom?”
Bird shot to her feet, her face draining of color. “Bec!”
She sent a dismayed look at Mikhail. A cold chill struck him. Did she not wish her nestlings to know him? “You do not want her to meet me? I can become invisible.”
“It’s not that, it’s those burns in your jacket,” she whispered.
The cold vanished as he looked down at himself. His jacket was full of charred-edged holes. He smiled even as he yanked it off. He should never have doubted his mate.
“Mom?” the voice called again.