by Caris Roane
Leto dipped his chin, and his expression grew serious. “Alison, I know that we’ve never spoken of it, but I can’t tell you how sorry I was that Greaves forced you to do battle with me in the Tolleson Two arena. My duties serving Greaves had always been a nightmare, but I think from that moment, when I saw you standing opposite me, so inexperienced, so frightened yet brave, I knew I had to end my tour of duty under his command. I’m just so sorry it had to happen at all.”
Alison’s eyes welled with tears. “It was a beginning for both of us, Leto. But I have to say that despite the horror of that battle, given all the wonderful things that followed, I wouldn’t change a thing. Knowing and loving Kerrick, having a baby with him, being close to all the warriors and their brehs as I am, even having a place in this world that makes sense to me because of my powers, no, I don’t regret any of it. Not even battling you in that arena.”
Grace watched Leto smile. She even felt some of the tension ease from his body. And as hard as it was for her to speak the words into his mind, Grace sent them anyway: You should hug her, Leto. I think just this one time it would be very acceptable and good for you both.
Leto glanced at her, brows raised. Are you sure?
Grace nodded.
Leto turned back to Alison and opened his arms. She stepped into them and held him tight. Grace ignored the fiery rise of her breh jealousy. Instead, she focused on the healing that she could feel happening between them. Leto had been through so much, and given his deepest character, the trial of battling Alison like that would have cut him to the quick.
Of course, it was no surprise that the landing platform came alive and Kerrick’s voice boomed over them all. “What the fuck is going on here?” He stomped down the ramp, his green eyes flashing with anger.
Grace instinctively drew close to Leto.
As for Alison, she pulled away from Leto wiping her eyes and laughing. “I suppose it was too much to hope for.” She went straight to her breh, however, cutting off his hostile approach. She surrounded him with her arms and kissed him deeply.
Grace turned toward them and watched Alison shoving her fingers into Kerrick’s hair, dislodging his cadroen, kissing him again. Undoubtedly, she was speaking a long string of words into his mind.
At last, Kerrick released her. He had calmed down quite a bit. He took her arm, after which Alison brought him back to Leto.
Leto just shook his head. “We were talking about the arena battle. I was apologizing.”
Kerrick nodded, his eyes haunted. “It was a hard day.”
“I’m so sorry, Kerrick,” Leto said.
“I wanted your death, but Alison wouldn’t have it. She was much wiser than all of us that day.”
Grace slipped her arm around Leto’s. She could feel that he stood on some terrible precipice as he stared at Kerrick. “It ruined something in me to betray the warriors, to betray Second Earth.” He began to shake as though his century of being viewed as a traitor, in that moment, had just caught up with him.
Grace glanced at Alison. Alison stared back and shrugged as though even she didn’t know what to do.
But it was Kerrick who suddenly stepped into Leto. He grabbed him, hugged him, and held on. Maybe it was a warrior thing, something only another warrior could truly understand. “You’re back with us now,” Kerrick said. “That’s all that matters, brother.” He all but pounded on Leto’s back.
Leto settled down and pulled away. He nodded several times, then offered a smile. “Thank you for that.”
Kerrick nodded in like manner and cleared his throat. He swept his arm around Alison, who leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Okay. Well, that’s settled. Good. Good. Uh, but just in case you didn’t know, it isn’t wise to go around hugging other warriors’ brehs.”
Leto laughed. “Oh, I know.” He slid his arm around Grace. “And I wouldn’t have, but Grace gave me permission.”
Kerrick shifted to smile ruefully at Grace. “Yeah, that’s what Alison said.” He laughed and shook his head. “Damn breh-hedden. It’s always charging down on me when I least expect it.” He nodded a few more times, then jerked his head in the direction of the landing platform. “Well, I better get back.” He drew away from Alison and reset his thick wavy black hair in his cadroen. “I’m working with Seriffe through the afternoon. Luken, Zach, and Santiago are at Apache Junction Two as well. Come say hi if you get a break later today.”
“I will.”
He leaned down and kissed Alison again, then headed up the shallow ramp. Alison walked with him to the top of the platform.
Grace slipped her arm around Leto’s waist. “You okay?” she asked quietly.
He turned into her and drew her into his arms. He held her in a tight embrace. I feel lost, he sent. I can’t help it, I just do. What I did robbed me of something, a feeling that I’ll never really belong, never feel whole again.
There were no real words to make things right, so Grace continued to hold him, to stroke his arms and back. To kiss his neck above his vein over and over, to whisper her love and to remind him that she knew him deeply and valued all that he was.
Thorne called out, “Hey, I didn’t know you two were here.”
Grace pulled away and turned toward her brother, who stood in the archway that led to the large central rotunda. “Kerrick was just here,” she said.
She glanced at Leto, but his gaze was fixed on Thorne, his expression intent.
“Looks like we’ve got a battle coming,” Thorne said. He glanced at Alison, who had rejoined them. “And I think it’s because we have a major convergence among the three of you.”
Grace couldn’t help but agree. Both Leto and Alison had some connection to Third Earth, especially if it turned out Leto really was ascending. And she, of course, was the missing piece of the obsidian flame puzzle.
“Where do you want me?” Leto asked.
“Here, at the palace, or in Apache Junction Two at Militia Warrior HQ. We’ll both float between the two places. I’ll want you to liaison with the colonies’ militia.”
He turned and waved a hand forward then led them into the large central rotunda.
Grace was surprised to find that the usually empty room was now laden with long tables, dozens of swivel chairs, computers, and cords running every which way. A massive and familiar grid that mapped the entire globe sat at the center of everything.
Leto looked around. “This looks damn familiar, the way Greaves’s HQ looked at the Estrella Mountain Complex.”
Thorne took him on a tour and introduced him to the various techs and Militia Warriors he’d chosen to work at the palace with him. Grace followed behind, savoring the wonderful changes in Thorne that had occurred since she had last seen him. He was even taller than she remembered, maybe by a full inch, a result of the recent transformation he had been through as he took on the mantle as anchor to the obsidian triad. His beautiful hazel eyes were clear and full of fire. He even had a faint silver aura and overall, he just felt more powerful.
When Thorne reached the last table, he said, “Endelle wanted me to bring all of you through to her private suite once you got here.” He waved them forward and led them through two smaller adjoining rotundas.
Endelle met them outside another large archway that undoubtedly opened onto her rooms. Her skin had the beautiful olive tones of the Middle East. Despite her garish fashion sense, and her unmatched profane mouth, she was an Arabian beauty, out of Mesopotamia nine thousand years ago. Her eyes might have at one time been a rich chocolate brown, but they had grown strangely wooded in appearance over the millennia, as though the deep struggles of her life, of having lived alone as the ruler of Second Earth for such a long time, had left her scarred.
She wore a pair of pants in striped black-and-white leather topped with a cherry-red bustier. Her low-hanging belt was made of tiny silver scorpions. Grace was a little surprised, because even though most women would never wear such an outfit, this actually had to be one of Endelle’s most subdued ensemb
les ever. She frowned as she greeted them. Grace could sense her distress.
Endelle’s sitting room was filled with purple velvet couches and chairs all arranged on a huge pure white shag rug. Glass tables were scattered around. As with much of the palace, instead of a window, the wall was open to the air and led to a small terrace and low wall.
She gestured for everyone to sit down, even though she remained standing.
Thorne took a seat in a big chair that faced away from the terrace. Alison sat opposite him, which gave Grace the chance to sit with Leto on the couch, which suited her. Maybe it was the breh-hedden, but she wanted to be close to him right now.
Endelle paced the length of the room, the scorpion belt jingling. She called over her shoulder, “Havily brought in Starbucks, and I drank three grandes all by myself. I’m either peeing or pacing.” Her hair moved as well in response to her emotions. She was definitely keyed up.
“I was about to tell them what’s going on,” Thorne said.
“Fine,” she responded, but without her usual sarcasm.
That was new. Normally, especially with Thorne, she would have laid on the attitude. Apparently not today, maybe not anymore.
Though his expression grew somber, Thorne spelled it out. “We’re headed for a battle against Greaves. Marguerite has been in the future streams and she’s seen parts of it. It will take place over White Lake.”
“But there’s a resort colony over there,” Leto said, frowning, “with over a hundred world-class hotels and public gardens.”
Thorne shrugged. “Just reporting what she’s seen. Apparently part of the battle takes place over White Lake, and obsidian flame is at the center of things, along with Endelle. And, no, she wasn’t able to determine the outcome. She wanted to emphasize that she’s only gotten glimpses, not even enough to plan a strategy.”
He huffed a sigh then continued. “There was, however, an anomaly, in that she’s had another vision of obsidian flame in flight, together, as in some kind of demonstration. So we’re going on the assumption that everything is going to happen fast, and we want to be prepared. And to answer the question that I’m sure is on all your minds, yes, Owen Stannett is blocking her in the future streams. But to be fair, she and her Seers work to block him just as much. To some degree, they’ve been canceling each other out, but as far as I’m concerned that’s fine by me. I’d rather there was an absence of information than that the enemy had a Seer advantage right now.”
Grace’s stomach flip-flopped. Was this really happening? The war had been going on for centuries, and had been steadily escalating for the past fifteen years. Was it really about to reach some kind of sudden, abrupt conclusion? It didn’t seem possible. For as long as she had been alive, all two thousand years, Greaves had been creating death vampires and causing a mountain of trouble, from one century to the next, in anticipation of taking over Second and Mortal Earths.
“So Marguerite isn’t working alone on this?” Grace asked.
Thorne shook his head. “No, not at all. She learned from some of Diallo’s refugee Seers that working in teams improves accuracy. She has a setup out at the rehab center, a nice lounge, in which Seers work in shifts and in groups of four.” He inclined his head toward Alison. “Of course you know by now that Alison has mounted her wings and has been having dreams about the Third Earth portal.”
“Yes,” Leto said, but he dipped his chin frowning. “I suppose Endelle told you about Casimir’s arrival.”
Thorne nodded. “This has to be a shitfest for you on several levels.”
“Especially since he saved my ass out at Nazca.”
Endelle stopped her pacing. Thorne leaned forward in his chair, a deep crease between his brows. “I didn’t know Casimir had been out there?”
“Me neither,” Endelle said, resuming her movement back and forth. “What the fuck happened?”
“It was well after the battle and after the colony had been secured.” He then related the tale of Greaves’s arrival with his Third Earth death vampires.
Endelle moved to stand near Thorne. “Are you telling us Greaves was there, himself, in Nazca, and meant to kill you with a hand-blast?”
“Knowing Greaves, I’m sure he meant only to disable me, but his death vampires would have finished the job. Greaves would never go against that particular COPASS directive, the one that forbids him to kill anyone by his own hand. He wouldn’t risk it because he only owns about a third of the committee.”
“But it was clear to you,” Thorne said, “that he meant for you to die.”
“No question. But as you can imagine, he holds a certain animosity toward me. I betrayed him by leaving his service and returning to Endelle.”
“Leto,” Endelle said, her voice sharp. “Are you in your call to ascension to Third?”
He held his hands wide. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, except for my beast-state. I haven’t experienced the usual longings or dreams, nothing like that. Although one of the death vamps said I was morphing the way Third Earth warriors morph.”
“A Third Earth warrior?” Thorne asked.
“That’s what he said.”
Thorne exchanged a look with Endelle. She shrugged and said, “I don’t know what to make of it. We know so little about Third Earth other than that it’s having its own share of growing pains. I suppose it’s possible that warriors there do what you do. This is a strange dimensional world. Anything’s possible.”
Thorne scratched his forehead with his thumb. “Despite all the unknowns, your possible ascension to Third, or whatever the hell this turns out to be, was one more reason we decided to set up the war room here at the palace.”
Endelle nodded, then gestured from Leto to Alison. “You know, there’s a bit of symmetry here between you two. You battled each other in the arena, and now Alison got her wings and more dreams of White Lake, and you have a Guardian of Ascension sent here to protect you during your ascent to Third.”
Thorne fixed his gaze on Grace. “Endelle and I believe that Greaves has been waiting for your return before making his move. I’ve been tracking the location of his army for some time now, for months. Almost within the hour of your return, he began moving a massive portion of his force here to his extensive underground bunkers near Estrella.”
“How do you know?” Grace asked. “I mean, the bunkers are partly under Greaves’s peach orchard and partly deep beneath the Estrella Mountains.”
But it was Leto who answered the question. “Because I created a back door to the facility, and told your brother all about it.”
“A back door?” Grace asked.
“A computer program linked up with hidden surveillance units in just about every main room of the compound. I couldn’t do anything about the rooms Greaves used—he was too smart for that. But the concealed aboveground landing platforms and the underground bunkers, yes.”
Thorne smiled. “Leto has shifted the balance of power in our direction. We know so much more about Greaves and about his operation than we ever would have known if he hadn’t served as a spy.” To Leto he said, “I want you to work with me at the command center, specifically on strategy. If Greaves intends to attack at White Lake, with all those gardens and hotels lined up on both banks, we’ll need a plan in place with orders ready to deliver to all the Militia Warrior Section Leaders.”
He rose, and because there was command in his manner, everyone rose along with him.
* * *
Leto could breathe. Between Kerrick’s earlier demonstration of warrior acceptance, and Thorne’s obvious trust in Leto, yes, he was beginning to breathe. “Where do you want me?” he asked.
Thorne smiled. “Right next to me for now. We have some planning to do.”
Leto nodded.
What might have happened next was disrupted by a shimmering that appeared next to Endelle.
Both warriors drew swords, but the man who materialized looked about as harmless as a librarian. Leto knew him well.
James.<
br />
He had gray hair, a novelty in any ascended world. He was short given the relative height of everyone in the room, and there was laughter in his shining light blue eyes.
As Thorne and Leto folded their swords away, Endelle addressed the newcomer. “Hey, shorty, long time no see. What the fuck are you doing here?”
He drew close. “How about a date?” he asked.
“In your dreams.”
He laughed as he turned to face not Thorne, or even Alison whom he had known since her rite of ascension, but rather Leto.
“The time has come, my boy,” James said. “I have a directive from Sixth Earth at long last. I know you always questioned whether all the difficult things you had to do serving Greaves would be worth the sacrifice: becoming a death vampire, providing us with thousands of documents, building an army for Greaves.”
Every muscle of Leto’s body tensed. Grace must have felt it because she slipped her hand into his, a great comfort. He didn’t say anything, though; he just waited, as they all did, hanging on what James would next say.
James’s lips curved slightly. “So you know that army you built?”
“All two million of it? Yes, and the knowledge is painful.”
“Well, sometime in the next forty-eight hours, I want you to start taking back as much of Greaves’s army as you can. Not the death vampires, of course, they’re beyond reasoning. But the hundreds of thousands of Militia Warriors will follow you, if you but ask. That’s what we know to be true.”
Leto was stunned. “Why will they follow me?” he asked.
“Because you’re a Warrior of the Blood, and you carried those values with you when you built that army. The same values now live in all those men and women. You treated Greaves’s Militia Warriors, especially your Division and Section Leaders, with great respect. Your reputation among them is unequaled.
“Greaves’s generals, on the other hand, are struggling to maintain control because they failed to continue the structure you put in place, the one built on honor and decent treatment. Thousands have deserted, and an equal number have been executed at the whims of the generals.