The scientific side of my brain wrestled with the possible explanations while another part of me wanted to just shake my head and call it magic.

There were theories in astrophysics, of course, that could potentially help explain it. Like wormholes. But the idea that someone could just create something like a wormhole out of thin fucking air...

“Incredible,” I whispered. “And how do you direct the wormhole?”

“The what?”

“Never mind. It’s a human term to explain a phenomenon like a stone sky door. It’s been basically unproven until now, though. I mean, it’s present in the solutions to Einstein’s theories, but some scientists think they couldn’t exist because they’re too unstable. Although, if you’re only creating them for a short time...” God, the papers I could write on this...

“Wormhole...” Wylfrael muttered. “Such an ugly term. It’s a sky door, Torrance. Nothing to do with worms and dirt.”

“Whatever, just tell me more about it! How do you direct it? How do you know where it will open?”

“I use my power.”

“Very detailed response, thank you.” I rolled my eyes. “If you’re going to be married to me, Wylfrael, you’ll have to get used to these kinds of questions.”

I swallowed, suddenly nervous about what I’d contemplated in the room alone. That he was done with this whole deal.

“You are still planning to marry me, right?” There was a fucking quaver in my voice that shamed me right down to my toes. I was immensely thankful I was facing away from Wylfrael right now.

His fist tightened in my hair.

“Of course, I am. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Oh, gee, I don’t know, maybe because you abandoned me for hours today with absolutely no explanation and made me think this was about to all blow up in my face!”

Now I just sounded pathetic. I cleared my throat and adopted a business-like tone.

“Good. Alright then. I’m satisfied that our arrangement is still in place.” I’d almost said I was happy instead of satisfied and barely caught myself. “Now, if we could get back to my question about how you direct the wormholes – the sky doors – with a few more details this time?”

“I can only travel to places on my star map. I direct my power to that area of the map, then visualize where on the planet’s surface I want to land.”

“Your star map...” I’d heard that term before, when he was talking to Maerwynne. “What is that, like some sort of compass? A tool you bring with you that – holy shit.”

I turned, creating a painful tug at my scalp. Wylfrael flinched, then unwrapped my hair from his hand so I could whirl around to face him.

“It’s this,” I gasped. The space was so cramped with two of us in the tube that Wylfrael’s wings were folded tightly behind his back, so I couldn’t see all of it. But even so, I knew exactly what I was looking at now. It’s a map. A fucking map inked right into his skin. These weren’t just star-like points strewn across his body. They represented actual stars.

“Is this like a tattoo? Is the kind of ink important?” I mean, the ink fucking glowed, for one thing. I wondered if he was radioactive, if just being beside him would eventually give me cancer or some other horrible side effect. But even thoughts like that couldn’t stop me from reaching a trembling hand forward and tracing the little blue flames on his chest. His pectoral muscles visibly tightened when my fingertips brushed his skin.

“It’s not a tattoo. Stone sky gods are born with star maps.”

I could barely comprehend that. That his kind was born with the universe inside them. No wonder he’s so arrogant, I thought. How could you not be, when no matter where you are, you’re never lost? When you have the whole spread of the sky as part of your own body, like you own it? When you can go anywhere, absolutely anywhere, and always find your way home?

I moved my fingers slowly, almost reverently, across his front. Down his chest to his taut abdomen, skimming across the edge of the few remaining bandages, then over to his arm, where the stars webbed all the way down to his hands. I realized with breathless excitement that the stars felt different from the rest of his skin, each point slightly warmer and thrumming, a tiny buzz of energy in each light.

“Are you quite finished with your examination?” Wylfrael asked through his teeth, a certain raggedness in his breath.

“No!” I said. “Now I’m looking for Earth.”

I found it. At least, I found the milky way galaxy, on the back of his left hand. There was something oddly thrilling in the discovery, and I held his hand with both of mine, bending so close my nose brushed his knuckles.

“Here! Here it is!”

He grunted.

“It’s on my star map, then. Good. Not every world is. I suppose you’ll want me to take you back there when this is all through. You and your friends.”

“No,” I said, my excitement fading. “I don’t think Earth will ever be safe for us now. We’ll have to figure that out, as a condition of our arrangement. Think about where the other women and I can live to be safe.”

His fingers twitched against mine. He said, in a monotone voice, as if he were controlling every word, every syllable, “I suppose I could grant you and the others safe haven here.”

I stilled, the stars turning into a meaningless blue blur.

“Stay with you?” I asked.

“Well, no, not really,” he said. “I’d be at Heofonraed as part of the council. But there’s room enough for you all in the castle, and then even without me, you’d all be protected by the Riverdark spell.”

“You care if we’re protected? All us humans whom not long ago you were so mad about invading your world?” I asked, confused enough to finally look up from his hand.

“I care about making sure you go through with our deal,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “If that means housing a bunch of human women as insolent as you, I suppose I’ll do it. I won’t be here to be annoyed by you all. I’ll be too busy on the council.”

“I’ll... I’ll think about it,” I said. In some ways, it was an ideal solution. Human forces would be loath to come back here ever again after Wylfrael’s rampage. We could breathe the atmosphere, the native Sionnachans were kind and generous, and our home base in Wylfrael’s castle would always be protected. It would be a lot easier than trying to find another world that would be safe.

“Hey,” I said, something suddenly occurring to me. “Do you think other stone sky gods have ever visited Earth?”

I thought of stories. Legends of angels and demons and gods. Sublime, winged beings from the sky. I wondered if that was all based in something alien rather than celestial.

“It is possible. I had not heard of your kind before now, but that doesn’t mean another stone sky god has not travelled to your world at some point. Perhaps to claim his mate.”

“Hmm. How many stone sky gods are there?”

“When I was last awake, dozens.”

“That few?” I said, surprised. I assumed they’d be like humans – billions of them out there.

Wylfrael’s wings twitched, like they wanted to expand in the tube.

“We can only reproduce with our fated mates. When we starburn, we grow the knot that can bring forth children, but not before then.”

“What the hell is a knot?”

He gave me a flat look.

“Something you do not need to concern yourself with. I do not have one, because I have not starburned.”

It was obviously some weird alien bit of anatomy related to sex and fertility. Starburning almost sounded like some kind of second puberty.

I relaxed a little bit.

“So, you’re impotent, then? Without this knot?” There was relief in the statement, but the nature of the relief surprised me, made me ashamed. It wasn’t relief that he’d make good on his word not to require sex of me. It was relief that I wouldn’t ever be tempted.