Gates of Rapture (The Guardians of Ascension) (12 page)

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Leto held Grace’s arm pressed around his own as he led the group to the eastern side of the games where several sets of grandstands had been built. Diallo, who oversaw all administrative aspects of the colony, had designated a box for Leto’s use throughout the three days. Militia Warriors were posted at each end of the box as well.

As he walked, he kept glancing at Grace. She was so changed. She wore a crown of several small silver stars, and her hair was in a beautiful cloud that floated over her shoulders and down her back. She wore makeup and jewelry but it was her outfit that had his body in an uproar.

The top was sexy as hell and cut low enough to make his tongue tingle. Her cleavage was exquisite. Her skirt rode low on her hips so that more than once, when he reached for her, his hand hit bare flesh. He found himself grateful for a pair of snug briefs and a kilt. Both hid a multitude of sins, big sins.

He leaned forward and looked down to once more catch sight of the blue gem at her navel. His tongue tingled again. The sensation this time sent a vibration streaking down his left leg. He hissed softly, waiting for the mirror sensation to attack his other leg. If it did, he had six minutes to get to his basement; Diallo would have to take over the opening of the warrior games.

Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Grace asked. She leaned close. He released her, but only to slide his arm around her. “Nothing. That is…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

Your beast?
she sent discreetly.

He met her gaze.
Yes. I’m susceptible right now because you’re next to me.

She smiled, but in her eye was an unholy glint.
I like your beast.

He guided her around a group of children.
Your skirt and your blouse have my body desiring things I shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

She smiled again.
Good.

Was this Grace?

He let go of her waist, because she felt too damn wonderful right now. He once more took her arm and was grateful to be distracted by all the well-wishers as he guided her toward the grandstands.

Several enormous screens, a PA system, and a number of cameras were set up to cover the events all up and down the valley as well as to send a secure live feed to the rest of the worldwide hidden colonies.

There were, however, no electric lights anywhere. Though Diallo, the creator of the system of hidden colonies, had perfected over hundreds of years the mossy mist that covered and protected all the colonies around the world, electrical usage was kept as low as possible. Dishes were washed by hand and clothes hung on lines to dry. Gas stoves were used instead of electric. Gas generators were the order of the day, and solar was gradually being implemented as the products improved. But mostly it was the light signatures themselves that were avoided. The grounds, therefore, were lit by torchlight.

That the games were filmed and sent overseas had required a team of advanced mist-makers to get the job done. But Diallo knew his stuff and so far, so good.

When he escorted Grace to the top of the grandstands, he led her first to the box on the left in which Diallo and his wife, Mei-Amadi, were seated. Diallo rose and took Grace’s hand. “I remember you well from your visit a few months back, but I don’t think you met my wife.” He placed his hand on Mei-Amadi’s back. The woman bowed slightly. She had lovely Asian eyes that gave her brown skin an exotic look. Overall, she was lighter-skinned than Diallo. Her hair was piled high on top of her head. She looked regal.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Grace said. “You both must be so pleased with the event tonight.”

“It is wonderful,” Mei-Amadi said, her hands spread wide. “To see competitors from all over the globe, from all the colonies. I never thought to see such a thing happen. But we have Leto to thank for this. He has unified our world here in a way neither Diallo nor I thought possible. Truly magical.”

The assistant with the headset interrupted. “Please forgive me, Warrior Leto, but it’s time.”

“Yes,” Diallo said. “Get the games started or we will have many unhappy warriors shaking fists at us in a minute or two.”

Leto nodded. “You’re right. The competitors’ nerves will be jumping right now.”

Once Grace was settled in his box, he approached the microphone. He took a long, slow breath. The entire fairgrounds had fallen silent. Crying babies were soothed by caregivers and children ordered to hush. Only a breeze set a few flags flapping here and there.

For a long moment, Leto was overcome by the respect he was being paid. Not long ago, he’d been a despised traitor, but all that had changed when Grace had brought him almost magically out of Moscow Two and away from Commander Greaves permanently.

Now he was a resident of the hidden colony and everyone waited to hear what he had to say.

He had taken great pains to prepare a speech with which to open the games, focusing on how proud he was of the contestants and the hidden colony Militia Warriors, on his gratitude for having a place in their lives. All good stuff.

But as he surveyed the crowd, his heart began to expand. He saw the families he had come to know and love over the past five months, all those ascenders who had embraced him and forgiven him, who had helped him build his cabin. He saw, lined up by colony, the hundreds of warriors, both male and female, who had trained hard under his leadership in preparation not only for the games over the next three days but for the ongoing war against Greaves as well.

He felt a strong need to say something different from his practiced praises. Making use of his most powerful voice, he began, “We’re on the brink of war, my fellow ascenders.” He heard a rippling murmur pass through the crowd but most remained silent. “We all know it and we all know that this is the reason our warriors have trained as hard as they have, pushed themselves, male and female alike, gotten hurt in the process then pushed harder still.”

Several small cheers went up and down the narrow valley.

“But at heart, we are all warriors no matter what role we play in our society. Whether we raise our children to be well loved and strong or whether we teach in our schools or labor in the fields to put food on every table, or build a business to serve the community. This is the war we make, to care for those we love day in and day out. This is the true battlefield of life.”

More cheers went up, louder this time. He let his gaze ride the scene from the north where all colorful tents were laid out, all the way south across the event obstacles designed to test the mettle of the assembled competitors.

“Hold fast to the job you were designed for. Do that service to your community and to your world with every ounce of strength the Creator has given you. This is the note you sing in the choir of humanity. Hold that note so that the chorus we create together, backed by the angels of heaven, will prevail against the enemy, wherever evil is found. Tonight, we are all warriors.”

A great cheering rose into the dark night sky. Knowing that his words had hit the mark, he cried out very simply, “Let the games begin!”

Jealousy casts a wide net,

But who gets caught in the web?

—
Collected Proverbs,
Beatrice of Fourth

CHAPTER 5

Endelle levitated just at the top of the tree line on the western side of the forest. She wore tight black leather pants and a forest-green embroidered bustier but kept herself cloaked in her own private mist. She had intended just to check in for a moment, to see what the colony had put together for this worldwide event.

She wore the same necklace of miniature pinecones, adorned with preserved monarch butterflies. This was her nod to the natural surroundings even if she’d had the insects’ wings dipped in resin to keep them from busting apart.

But it was her stilettos that claimed the prize. She had worked diligently to attach wires to various parts of the shoes; at the end of each wire was a black-and-yellow bumblebee. The wires came to various heights so that it looked as though a cloud of bees buzzed around her. Her design even included shields that kept the bees from getting all tangled up.

Of course the whole ensemble was more frivolous than serious, but given the homespun nature of the event, she thought she fit right in.

The air rippled beside her. She might have been worried, but she felt the flavor of a Fourth ascender. Maybe Beatrice had come to watch the festivities.

However, as she turned in the direction of the moving air, who should appear but that worthless piece of shit, Casimir. Only he looked really different. “Holy hell, what the fuck happened to you?”

Casimir wore a white robe and was completely bald. She moved in close, still levitating, but scooted up higher in the air and put both her hands on his head. She read the names inked on his skull. “These your kids?”

“My sons, yes.”

“Imagine you having children.”

“I was shocked myself.”

“So, you slumming it or what?”

His gaze took in the the fair-like atmosphere. “I take it these are the warrior games.”

“If you’re looking for Grace, she’s in the stands with Leto, but I suspect he won’t give you much of a welcome. He lost it when Grace left and went through some kind of change none of us has figured out.”

Casimir glanced at her. She couldn’t get used to what he looked like without all his long curly hair. He was still a handsome bastard, though.

“How has Leto changed?”

“Bigger at times, then not.”

“Cryptic.”

“You can see for yourself if you stick around long enough. So, did you come here hoping to bust up my latest power couple?”

He shook his head. “No, but I have a feeling that my being here won’t exactly be welcomed or understood.”

“Now who’s being cryptic? Cut the shit, Caz. What’s going on?”

“I’m here to serve as a Guardian of Ascension to one of your warriors. This particular warrior, it would seem, is ascending to Third Earth.”

“What?” Endelle had always had a good sense of things, especially when a major ascension was in progress. “Who the hell is ascending to Third?”

He swept a hand in the direction of the grandstands. “Why, Leto, of course.”

Even the air around her seemed to slow to a halt. Her mind got stuck in neutral and wouldn’t budge. She just kept staring at Casimir. Finally, she said, “That make no sense at all.”

“Are you sure? You said Leto has gone through a change. Could it be Third Earth–related?”

She frowned because certain things started making sense. Was that why Leto could change into something that resembled Greaves’s Third Earth death vampires? Maybe Leto’s ability to shift into an über-warrior wasn’t about his former addiction to dying blood after all.

But if he was ascending to Third, what about Grace? Usually, if an ascender was married, his or her better half emerged with new powers at the same time. Unless of course you counted obsidian flame as a power matching Leto’s ability to morph into Leto-the-Hulk.

A sudden loud thumping drew her attention to the south.

“Fireworks,” Casimir said. “How nice.”

“Sweet Christ, if you intend to start showing some manners, I might just puke.”

Casimir met her gaze and smiled.

At the distant end of the valley, fireworks shot into the air. These were not quite as high or as magnificent as the usual display, probably because they had to be contained within the dome of Diallo’s mist.

However, the effect wasn’t diminished in the slightest. Music blared through a number of loudspeakers, a kind of brisk Sousa march, and sure enough, at least a hundred DNA-altered swans and geese took to the skies in strict formation, guided by their handlers. Instead of flying straight over, however, they flew in spirals, around and around, in order to draw out the moment. At the same time, all those equally well-trained teens began climbing the poles and lighting the massive bowls of wood. Before long, the field was lit in a startling amount of fire-based light.

It might have been home-spun spectacle, but damn, it worked.

She knew Leto and Diallo had cooked something up as a competition for all the hard training the hidden colonies’ warriors had done all around the globe. But she hadn’t expected to find fairly grand spectacle and some goddam righteous oratory at the games as well. Leto had somehow reached into the hearts of every ascended vampire present, caught their souls in his hands, and squeezed hard until cries of near-ecstasy filled the valley.

Even she had been moved by his speech, ready to take up arms, or to do whatever she could against Greaves. Leto had moved her, had made her believe that they would win, somehow, and that it rested not on the might of an army, but on the convictions and lives of the average, everyday ascender.

Leto had spoken the truth as well, more than even he knew.

War was close.

The flying squadrons of geese and swans, and a smaller one of ducks, were opposite her now. The music had changed to something by Debussy so that the flying spirals had taken almost elegant and certainly more complicated patterns. Even the fireworks had slowed to match the music. A series of red whales swam in blue-and-gold fireworks off to the south. Magnificent.

And now Leto. My God, was Casimir right? Was he really ascending to Third?

As she extended her gaze to Grace and the crown of silver stars over her long blond hair, she wondered if obsidian flame would be enough, or Thorne’s army, or the secret colonial militia that Leto had built.

She spun in the air to face Casimir. “So, you’re here to protect Leto until he ascends to Third, have I got that right?”

He nodded.

She looked him up and down. “In a weird-ass, Fourth Earth white robe? You know most of my Guardians know how to use a sword.”

“I have other powers. Hand-blast is my specialty.”

“And you’re going to need it because if you get anywhere near Grace, I have no doubt Leto will aim to kill.”