Gates of Rapture (The Guardians of Ascension) (10 page)

As he drew out from the vision, he had his next course of action in hand. He would destroy the first of the colonies, a good beginning. And in the process, maybe he could take Leto down as well. No doubt Endelle would retaliate, which he hoped would mean that she would make some sort of use of obsidian flame. More than anything else, he needed to figure out what the triad could do if he had any hopes of winning the coming battle.

He reiterated that he wanted Stannett to put all his effort in to harnessing Seers, as many as it would take to achieve pure vision. “This is your top priority. I must have the best possible information that you can provide me. The next several days will be critical to the Coming Order. Do you understand?”

Stannett nodded gravely. “I understand, master.”

“Good.”

With his plans set in place, Greaves smiled the entire distance back to Geneva.

*   *   *

“But I miss Grace already.” Kendrew’s brow tightened.

“All will be well,” Casimir said. “She had to return to Mortal Earth to help a friend, but she will be back. She promised me she would.”

Kendrew didn’t look convinced, but why would he trust anything Casimir said? He hadn’t exactly provided his boys with the most stable environment—except of course for these several idyllic months with Grace, in Beatrice’s palace. He’d actually watched his boys start to relax, even to run and play as boys should.

Casimir lay on the soft silks of his bed, in the redemption gown of white linen that he wore day and night since entering Beatrice’s program. His skin felt as though it should be blistered because he was in such terrible pain, his soul no less so, but he knew the pain he felt was of a spiritual nature and would soon pass.

For now, he had much to think about.

Beatrice had tried to warn him to follow the program and to not hurry his steps. But from the time he’d made the decision to enter the program in hopes of preserving his precious hide, he’d experienced a terrible urgency to move forward as quickly as he could.

He had arrived as Grace’s
breh
and had taken her into his bed, making love to her for the first few weeks. He’d fallen in love with her and couldn’t imagine a life without her, yet he knew that part of his journey was over as well.

But it was when he felt his impending death as strongly as Grace did that he’d made the decision to do the impossible and to attempt to redeem his soul. He wanted to live. More than anything, he wanted to live to raise his boys, to make up for the self-absorbed behavior that had cost them their mother’s life.

How odd, though, that the call of the
breh-hedden
had disappeared as quickly as a sigh the moment his toe hit the water of the first pool. He had lost his ability to scent Grace and she him. Their moment of shared passion had passed.

He had never blamed Grace for the disappearance of the
breh-hedden
. She had simply been a light he could not hold. She had saved him by coming with him to Fourth and by encouraging him to enter Beatrice’s program. Her presence in his life had made him a better father and a better man and quite possibly had returned his life to him.

He knew the sacrifice she had made in leaving Leto behind. But at the time, he hadn’t given a blind bat’s testicle about how she felt, only that she was with him and that he’d been able to take her to bed. Now, after experiencing true remorse, and seeing from the perspective of those he’d hurt, he would give anything to undo the deed.

But here was the true punishment of remorse: that nothing could be taken back.

His only consolation was in the nature of the task he’d foreseen accomplishing in the lower dimensions. Grace had sacrificed for him, and now he must return the favor. If only he’d been able to complete the redemption program, he would be home free.

Not so now. Despite his hurrying the process today, he now faced his mortality as surely as he’d let the Grim Reaper in the door himself.

But if there was any way that he could come out of this alive, he’d do it. He didn’t care what it took.

Both Kendrew and Sloane stood by the side of his bed. The windows were open and the sheer drapes billowed, letting in the fresh Denver Four evening air.

He reached a hand toward Kendrew and smoothed his fingers over the small wrinkles on his son’s forehead. He could sense Kendrew’s confusion. Sloane stood beside him, younger and much less certain about all that was happening. His lips were turned down and he leaned into Kendrew. He relied heavily on his older brother, another point of remorse for Casimir.

“I miss Grace, too,” Sloane said.

He smiled at Sloane. “I know you do.”

Because of Beatrice’s program he had a sensitivity to others he’d never known before, so he could feel now all that his boys had suffered because of his narcissistic lifestyle. He had not done right by his children, the first he’d ever had in his five millennia of vampire life. But he would make it up to them, so help him God.

He looked into Kendrew’s eyes and held his gaze firmly. “You will be with Grace again, I promise you that with all my heart.”

“How do you know, Papa, when everyone leaves?”

His chest hurt as though a boulder now sat on top of him. “Because I saw it in a vision, that you would be camping with her one day.”

“When did you see the vision?”

“While I was in Auntie Beatrice’s pool. And you know how wise and powerful your auntie is.”

At that, the wrinkles began to soften. “She can make butterflies appear with a wave of her hands.”

Casimir smiled, but the smile cost him because it stretched the skin of his face. He didn’t stop, though. What a small price to pay, this pain he was feeling, for all that he had done in his long wretched life, for the way he had failed to protect their mother from something so simple as a car accident on Mortal Earth. He had heard her screams between dimensions, but because he’d been enjoying himself with another woman, he’d ignored her and she had died.

Oh, yes, his sins were legion.

But he was atoning, and he would continue to atone until the last second of his life, so help him Creator. He opened his arms therefore to his boys. “Come to me. Let me kiss those beautiful foreheads.”

They were too young to understand that he was in pain, so as they scrambled over him, he took deep breaths and refused to release the bellows that hung low in the depths of his lungs. He could have screamed for the agony, but he didn’t.

Instead he drew his sons close, one to each side, and cradled them, ignoring the fire on his skin and instead savoring that what he loved the most was close to him in this moment.

He talked with them and laughed with them, until they began to slumber. He saw the stars through the sheer drapes. He gave thanks for the beauty of this night and for the path he was on. He ignored the darkness of the future. Above all, he promised himself that he would fulfill the destiny he had foreseen. In a few hours, when he was better recovered, he would pay a visit to Endelle, offering his services as a Guardian of Ascension.

As he slumbered, a dream came to him. He saw an elderly man sitting on a park bench feeding sunflower seeds to pigeons clustered around his feet. The man looked up at him with eyes that shone as he said, “Well met, Casimir. You will attend me tomorrow at the portal to Third Earth.”

“How do I find the portal when it’s been closed for so long?”

“It’s above White Lake on Second Earth, but you have sufficient power to follow the coordinates I give you now. You will awaken in a few hours completely healed. You must come to me then.” Casimir felt the information drop into his brain. He bowed to the old man, and the dream faded.

*   *   *

Grace stood in front of the mirror in Leto’s upstairs bathroom. She’d taken her time showering, then afterward drying and curling her hair, dressing, putting on makeup, just being a girl. She lifted a hand to flick her eyebrows a little, shaping them. All the silver bracelets jangled, the ones she had crafted herself during her stay at Beatrice’s home.

The bracelets made a pretty sound, a relatively new sound in her ascended life.

She was nervous. Leto hadn’t exactly seen her like this but she thought maybe she needed to be forthright—not just about Casimir and Fourth and her intentions now that she was back, but about everything.

She’d changed her manner of dress, something Leto wouldn’t have noticed since he’d been in his beast-state when she arrived in his basement. Later, at the hot spring, her makeup was gone and her hair plastered to her head, no curls, no beads, no stars, no blue sapphire, no adornments.

She moved to the window of the bedroom and looked down into the open backyard. Two Militia Warriors were standing close together and laughing. If she extended her hearing, she’d be able to hear the gist. But then they were warriors. She probably didn’t want to know what they were talking about.

Okay, so she was stalling.

She put a hand to her stomach. Her
bare
stomach. The full-length muslin skirt hung low on her hips, and the top was cut long at the sides but high at the middle of the waist to allow a peekaboo of her navel. Though the blouse had long sleeves, the neckline plunged and she was very much on display. She fingered the small sapphire in the loop just above her belly button.

Her heart tapped a little tremolo.

Would Leto even like this version of her?

“Move it, Grace,” she murmured.

She could have folded outside to the warriors, but they’d probably all draw their swords. If she understood their positions, they’d surrounded the house. Also, Leto had talked about folding to the landing platforms, which meant that dematerializing in the colony right now was being monitored carefully.

So she walked down the stairs and loosened up by shaking her hands a few times.

She opened the front door, and four warriors turned in her direction. The nearest was almost as tall as Leto. His brows rose and he seemed to freeze as he stared at her. The rest did as well.

“I’m ready,” she said. When no one said anything, she felt a slight blush rise on her cheeks. She’d spent a hundred years in a convent, covered from neck to ankle. She often forgot what the display of a certain amount of skin could do to a man.

She also knew that for this event and among the colonists, she was dressed properly for an outdoor, festive occasion, held at night.

The tallest one, who seemed to be in charge, blinked a couple of times and lifted his chin as though studiously refusing to drop his gaze lower. Yes, she was definitely showing some cleavage, and, yes, her stomach was bare.

“Good evening, ma’am. I’m Warrior Gideon. My squad will see you safely to the landing platforms in the valley proper. I understand you’re familiar with the valley and with the Seattle hidden colony?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Warrior Leto wanted me to tell you that platforms have been set up on the far western side of the competition zone. That’s where we’ll be going from here.”

She smiled. As though she hadn’t been folding all her two thousand years and into tens of thousands of different localities, including Fourth Earth. “You’re very kind, but I think I can handle a little fold through the forest and across a fairly narrow glade.”

At that, a glimmer shone in the warrior’s eye and his lips twitched. “I might have made mention of that fact to Warrior Leto.”

“And?”

“He might have scowled at me.”

Grace smiled. “Then allow me to take your arm for the fold.”

He moved with that easy lethal stride that most athletes and warriors possessed. When she took his proffered arm, he spoke into his com. His squad of eight, from all around the building, folded to his position, assumed a large V-formation flight pattern. A moment later she felt that swift glide of nothingness through nether-space. But despite her confidence, she landed a little unsteadily.

Gideon caught her. He glanced down at her with a questioning brow.

She shrugged. “And after I boasted about my abilities. I do have an excuse, though. My last fold was from Fourth. I forgot how short this one would be.”

He chuckled. “Show-off.”

She was laughing when half the warriors behind moved forward and started to march down the ramp in front of her. The rest would no doubt follow. Leto would have arranged this. He had said he would do his utmost to protect her.

Lifting her gaze, she took everything in at a glance. From the elevated position of the landing platforms, she could see that the warrior games were about ready to start. The entire colony had to be present as well as competitors from all over the world. She could hear various languages float across the air.

To the left of the platforms, which was north in this case, were dozens of tents selling clothes, food, trinkets, and jewelry. She’d have to check out the latter, but the smell of grilled meat made her stomach rumble.

To the right were what looked like a number of massive structures that no doubt tested various warrior skills. Arranged throughout were tall poles on which sat metal-sculpted baskets full of wood. A crude form of lighting, perhaps? There were a couple dozen of them arranged down both sides of the event grid. In addition, lines of torches were everywhere, guarded and kept lit by teen ascenders all wearing matching bright orange T-shirts and jeans.

She knew that the Seattle One hidden colony had a strict policy of keeping electricity-based light usage low in order to sustain the colony’s secrecy. The overhead web of moss-based mist could only go so far in cloaking the colony.

Excitement permeated the air.

When the first four Militia Warriors parted, she had a view of the ascenders waiting for her at the bottom of the platform. There were two women and four men, and she smiled since she knew them all.

Jean-Pierre stood with his arm draped over Fiona’s shoulder, his fingers laced through hers. They were both listening to Jean-Pierre’s great-grandson Arthur tell a story of some kind. She still couldn’t get over how much Arthur could have been Jean-Pierre’s twin.

Thorne stood slightly turned away from Fiona, his hand on Marguerite’s hip. She faced Leto and punched a finger into his weapons harness at pec height and was telling him something quite firmly. Thorne didn’t look happy. He kept batting her finger away from Leto.