by Caris Roane
What’s wrong? he sent.
Marguerite thinks Greaves will attack at the spectacle review.
When he remained silent, she pulled back and he lowered her to the floor. She asked, “I mean, do you honestly think that Greaves would attack even though it would ruin him in the eyes of the world?”
“I know his mind. I know that right now he must feel that all his ambitions, his centuries of planning, are threatened by the triad. If Marguerite has that instinct vibrating through her obsidian power, I can only say that I think it’s not just possible, but likely.”
Grace lowered her gaze to the mats. “This is what I feared,” she said, “that by coming back, I’d be getting this close to weapons and bombs. I don’t know if I can do this. I thought it would just be a spectacle parade.”
He drew her against him and held her tight, but he didn’t say anything.
Grace took one breath after another. She knew it was too late to change things, and part of her didn’t want to. But she’d seen the war destroy Thorne for centuries. The same war ripped her sister, Patience, out of the air, taking her who the hell knew where.
Now she was part of a power-based triad, and because she’d been so very clever, she’d placed herself at the center of what could be a bombing.
Leto’s voice was once more in her head. You can go back. You have a right to the life of your choosing. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.
Leto, you always say what I need to hear. And yet …
It’s not simple.
You’re right, our decisions are never simple.
She’d had the life of her choosing for many centuries, and during all that time she’d never really found a place to put down roots. She had searched the ends of the earth, even Mortal Earth, looking for some sort of spiritual enlightenment, but nothing lasted, nothing satisfied.
In the end, she’d chosen to come back to Leto and to stop avoiding the war. She thought of all that was at stake. She remembered Leto’s speech at the warrior games about how everyone had a part in the war, because it wasn’t just about swords and guns and bombs. It was about building a better future going forward and that all ascenders had a role to play.
She didn’t like the role she’d been given to play. But what did that matter?
She chuckled softly and drew back. “I don’t know what I expected when I returned, or what I thought would happen when I said we should use a spectacle event as a ruse to move an army. I think I was naive.” She smiled ruefully. “I’ll be okay. I just keep needing to get used to this new reality.”
She turned to walk back in Thorne’s direction. Leto joined her with his arm around her waist.
Both Fiona and Marguerite comforted her, which of course caused their shared power to flare. However, in this case, it helped. “I kind of lost my nerve. But now that I feel all that massive obsidian vibration, I’m okay. We can do this, can’t we?”
“Of course we can,” Marguerite said. “Or as Endelle would say, ‘Shit yes, of course we fucking can.’”
Grace started to laugh, and her obsidian sisters joined her.
Leto drew close, kissed her on the cheek, and said that Thorne had moved computer equipment to the workout room so that he’d be nearby if the triad needed him. “I’m locating Greaves’s artillery. I have one of Marcus’s computer geeks, which is code for ‘hacker,’ to help me break into some of the Commander’s files.”
Knowing that Leto was working on the bombing issue also gave her some comfort. But it was her brother who helped the most when he said, “We’re going to practice the rest of the day, here and out at the parade grounds as well, until all of you feel comfortable. The first thing we need to do is to find out if the triad can gather its power while in flight and without making physical contact. I feel confident it can be done, but we want to be sure.
“Also, we need to find out what happens when obsidian flame folds someone while in flight, which would include the swan and geese handlers, Endelle, and any of Marcus’s in-flight video operators. Though I have a feeling that the triad’s power will protect everyone, we need to know what we’re dealing with.
“Finally, I want to do an emergency run while in flight, to simulate Greaves’s firing his artillery. I want to be assured that I get a signal from the computer operator, and that I can alert the triad that an emergency mass fold is necessary for the parade grounds, then have Grace perform one very fast. How does that sound?”
Somehow having her brother break the challenges facing obsidian flame into specific skill sets and practice drills helped Grace a lot. She could even take a deep breath without feeling like she was being strangled. She realized that she was working with warriors who knew a lot about the value of regular workouts and drills on every level.
The first thing the triad did was to separate and focus on the obsidian flame power, causing the vibrations to rise without making physical contact. After a few false starts, a simple form of telepathy, from Grace to Marguerite then to Fiona, set the necessary sequence. Marguerite even suggested they use the word scorpion to focus on in order to prompt the experience. After an hour of practice, scorpion brought the power flowing within seconds each time the word passed from woman to woman.
Once the power could be brought without physical contact, Thorne moved everyone outside to continue the in-flight practice. Leto even suggested that he be the guinea pig for the first folding experiment. He and Thorne argued, but in the end Leto prevailed when he said, “The hell if I’m allowing any of the Militia Warriors to be hurt because of this. And you know I’m strong as hell and powerful, which means that if anything goes wrong, I’ll heal fast. Get Horace over here if it will make you feel any better.”
Grace watched him stare Thorne down. Marguerite hooked her arm through Grace’s. “We have two tough hombres, don’t we? Sweet Christ, is it bad of me to want to see them get into a fight? Thorne’s closing his fist. Look at his arms. Those muscles.”
Grace could not have cared less about her brother’s arms, but Leto’s shoulders were hunched and bulked up. Her mouth watered. She blinked several times.
Giving herself a shake, she approached the men and grabbed each by the wrist. “Hey, knock it off. The last thing we need is the two of you locking horns.”
The men backed down, which meant each took a few steps away from the other. She met Thorne’s gaze. “I happen to agree with Leto. And just in case, Horace should be here.”
“Fine,” Thorne said. He whipped his Droid Ascender from his slacks and started hitting the screen. A moment later, he said, “Hey, Carla, we need Horace at my position at Apache Junction Two, and, no, no one is hurt, and, yes, I do know he’s probably asleep, but get him to me anyway as quick as you can, at this position. I’ll let security here know.”
He tapped again and spoke to security. “Horace is coming to my position.”
Grace wasn’t surprised when about two minutes later, Horace materialized next to Thorne. He squinted against the bright sunshine.
“Sorry to disturb,” Thorne said.
But Horace bowed slightly. “No problem, duhuro.”
Thorne opened his mouth as though to say something then simply shrugged, smiled, and clapped the tall, thin healer on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming.” He then explained what they were doing.
Horace’s eyes grew wide. “I’m ready if you need me, but I really hope you don’t.” A fold could trash a pair of wings, even the strongest wings.
Leto removed his shirt, which caused Grace to put a hand to her chest and to weave on her feet. She didn’t think she’d ever get over what the man looked like.
He met her gaze but shook his head. He looked so serious, just as he should given the circumstances. And she knew she wasn’t helping because she knew that he could feel all the desire she was presently experiencing. The next moment, she felt his mental shields slam into place.
At the same time, she started setting up her own blocks like mad because all she could think about was wh
at it had been like the night before with Leto at the villa, his body slamming into her from behind and both sets of wings mounted.
As he turned away from her, however, she was lost all over again as his wings unfurled. They arrived in a blue flurry of movement and suddenly all four panels of his unusual, exquisite wings were just there. He drew them in to close-mount and shot into the air.
Thirty feet up, he unfurled and flew above them, turning in a slow arc and flying over them once more.
She put her hand to her chest. In flight, he was, as Endelle might have said, fucking magnificent. He began to plow through the air, even making another full loop that must have been a hundred yards in diameter. She didn’t move as she watched him, and she sure as hell couldn’t have looked away. She wanted to be up there with him.
A hand gripped her arm. “Hey.” Thorne’s voice broke through, and she turned to him startled.
“What?” she asked.
His stern expression softened. “Didn’t you hear me calling to you?”
She shook her head and pointed into the sky. Thorne’s gaze followed. “He’s your breh.”
Grace turned once more to watch Leto make another pass. His cadroen had come loose, and his long black hair flowed behind him. “Yes,” she said. “He’s my man.”
She heard Thorne chuckle, though she wasn’t sure what he found amusing. “Shall we see what happens when the triad folds him out of the sky?”
Oh, that. “Yes, of course.”
She turned to Grace and Marguerite. The latter sent the word scorpion into Grace’s mind, the telepathic link formed, and the obsidian power flowed.
Thorne’s thoughts were suddenly present as well. Leto’s ready. Fold at will. Bring him next to Horace.
Grace went into split-self mode, took possession of Fiona, then focused on Leto, now a hundred yards above the triad. She thought the thought.
She could feel the fold happen. The next moment she separated from Fiona, returning to herself. She wasn’t surprised when Leto appeared beside Horace, smiling, his hair wild, his blue eyes shining with pleasure and triumph, and his full-mount wings completely intact.
He met her gaze. “The fold felt like being wrapped in cotton and just set on my feet on the ground. Beautiful.”
Grace went to him, unable to contain all that she felt. She slid her arms carefully around his waist, and like a dream, his wings enfolded her. What a miracle all of this was, being here with Leto and her brother and with obsidian flame, feeling Leto’s arms around her. She felt overwhelmed and blessed.
She remained like that for a long time, just savoring him, savoring life, savoring the love she felt for him, the soft movement of his feathers over her skin. He was safe and uninjured, and he was hers.
Of course, the practice had to continue, but she thanked Thorne for letting her have that moment with Leto.
The rest of the morning involved practice and more practice, folding individual Militia Warriors in flight, then groups of them just to make sure that if the triad had to fold the spectacle handlers out of the air, it could be done safely.
After that, Grace took to the air and worked with Marguerite and Fiona doing the same thing all over again, but bringing their obsidian power online while in flight, then folding more Militia Warriors also while in flight.
The success of the venture was mind boggling.
With the most critical issues settled, the final trial run had been set up. The entire obsidian flame triad, including their brehs, was now in flight, and Grace would perform her final feat before tackling the spectacle review at eight.
It was now three o’clock in the afternoon, and Grace flew beside Marguerite and Fiona. Leto, Jean-Pierre, and Thorne flew behind each of them, for protection and for support. Thorne was taking no chances with this part of the practice.
Grace felt very connected to her obsidian sisters.
Leto’s voice penetrated her mind. You can’t believe what your combined wings look like. The flames of all three are exquisite. The colors are bold. You’ll get to see when we land because there’s a video-bot flying above us.
For herself, Grace had forgotten the joys of flight. She didn’t fly often enough. It was important to mount the wings at least once every two weeks to keep them fit and healthy. Ten days was even better. But flying was a different experience altogether, one of the real benefits of ascended life. She could see the various regiments below her, some receiving instruction over loudspeakers, some practicing marching. All wore flight battle gear, which gave a formidable unified appearance—and of course the black leather kilts were a great look.
She flapped her wings steadily, moving forward in an easterly direction along the parade route. Endelle’s beautiful graded administrative building, with terraces of hanging plants, was off to the south, Camelback Mountain to the north. A thousand tanks anchored the route, and stands were lined up in set intervals. The spectators, however, had been strictly limited to Militia Warriors in casual dress, no civilians allowed.
All along the route, the video cameras were in place, with their operators, everyone testing and retesting their equipment. She was amazed at all that Marcus, Havily, and their teams had created within a brief twenty-four hours. Large stands of stadium lights were already part of what was a traditional parade grounds.
Landing platforms had been set up at both the east and west ends of the route. It was strange to watch hundreds of warriors arrive then literally run off the platforms so that the next squadrons could fold in right behind them.
Leto, she sent telepathically, avoiding the com.
I’m here.
The organization is phenomenal. Have the hidden colonies sent their regiments?
No, they’ve remained within the colonies to protect the citizens. We’re still acting as if Greaves intends to attack at any given moment.
Thorne’s voice came over the com. “Grace, do you see the warriors at attention?”
Grace glanced down and to her left. There they were, in massive blocks of five hundred each, ten blocks total. “I see them.”
“That’s your mass-fold target. We’ve gathered ten thousand for practice.”
“Copy.” It was so strange to use such formal com-speak.
Marguerite’s voice broke over the com. “Banking left.”
Grace could feel the other two women turn just as she turned, their movements functioning as a solid group. They were a triad now. Maybe there were a lot of bumps yet to overcome, but for now they were obsidian flame.
Traveling up Scottsdale Boulevard Two, Marguerite happened to pull forward from her center position. Right afterward, Thorne recommended they keep the stronger, arrow-like formation because it would allow for greater visibility from the wing position.
He was right. Grace could see Fiona straight across from her now and could even catch her eye. Fiona nodded and smiled. The woman looked euphoric, but then she had only been flying for a few months. Nothing was more exhilarating. She flew like a pro, using her arms constantly to help make slight wing adjustments with every current of air that whipped over her or hit her broadside.
Two more miles and Marguerite spoke into the com, “Bank right. Folding endpoint site in one mile.”
Now heading east, Grace saw the massive area cordoned off with more rows of tanks. The tanks were Thorne’s idea to help substantiate the rumors Marcus had sent around on the web that Endelle had a bigger army than anyone knew about.
Grace’s heart began to hammer in her ears. Thorne came on the com. “Is ‘the flame’ ready?”
“Ready,” Grace responded. The flame was Thorne’s idea for abbreviated radio-speak.
Both Marguerite and Fiona called out, “Ready.”
“Execute at will,” Thorne ordered.
Still in flight, Grace didn’t hesitate. She took possession of Fiona, and as the shared obsidian flame power vibrated heavily through her, she focused on the mass of troops back at the parade grounds.
Grace pictured the formati
on square containing ten thousand warriors, and she simply thought the thought.
She felt a tremendous vibration through the air as well as movement, very swift. The next moment, the entire force appeared below the triad, next to the tanks.
She glanced at Thorne. He smiled at her and winked. Yep, ten thousand Militia Warriors, all in perfect formation, were shouting, punching the air with strong fists, and whooping it up.
Grace’s smile was so broad her cheeks hurt.
The breh-hedden never arrives at the opportune moment. But then in life, there rarely is such a thing as an opportune moment.
—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth
CHAPTER 16
Stannett sat up and vomited into the bowl the female Militia Warrior had provided him. His eyes rolled in his head. He’d been working most of the day, and he didn’t know how much longer he could sustain the blocking maneuvers. The hour had to be nearing six in the evening, and the spectacle event was set for eight. As for discovering what Endelle was up to, or her now famous obsidian flame triad, he couldn’t even get close in the future streams.
Greaves stood on the deck opposite Stannett’s chaise longue, arms crossed over his chest. “Anything new?”
He shook his head. He felt weak, sick, discouraged. Coming to the Illinois Two Seers Fortress, and heading up Greaves’s entire system, was supposed to have been a pinnacle in his life, something to be enjoyed and celebrated. Now he was a quivering mass of nausea, with a raging headache, and he felt weaker than shit.
“No change,” he said. “I can’t reach the spectacle event. Marguerite has it blocked off.”
“How can she perform both functions?” Greaves asked.
Stannett shrugged. His cheeks cramped. He’d be losing it again soon. “My guess is that she’s been training Seers to work in teams.”
“My on-the-ground surveillance near the Camelback Parade Grounds says that they’ve done a couple of mass folds. What do you make of that?”
What did he make of that? Why the hell was Greaves asking him questions better suited for his generals? “I don’t know.” He brought the bowl close, took several deep breaths, and threw up again.