Gates of Rapture (The Guardians of Ascension)

by Caris Roane

  Endelle scowled at Thorne. “Didn’t you tell them I was coming?”

  He laughed. “You didn’t exactly give me a lot of time.”

  “I suppose not. You could say I’m a little anxious about what’s happening here.” She glanced from one woman to the next, finally landing on Grace. “So you have the ability to acquire any of my skills.”

  “That’s right.”

  She smiled. “You’re very sure about it.”

  “Yes, I suppose I am.” She explained about practicing with Alison and about reading souls.

  Endelle actually smiled. “Okay, so tell me what to do.”

  Grace felt uneasy. “I think I should warn you that I’ll have to go deep to get to this particular power—as in, I’ll be descending into your soul.”

  “Fine.”

  “You mean, just like that? You don’t mind?”

  “Hell, no. Just do it, Grace. What the fuck do I care? All I want is to finally get the upper hand over Greaves, get his fat balls in my hand, squeeze hard a few dozen times, then send him to perdition. If that means you do some soul diving, it’ll be worth it.” When Grace still hesitated, Endelle added, “Aw, for shit’s sake, just jump inside my mind, or wherever the hell my ‘soul’ is”—she made air quotes—“and let’s get this damn thing done.”

  “Okay, fine.” Maybe not the most brilliant response, but Grace was very surprised. She had thought that the Supreme High Administrator of all of Second Earth would be more protective of her deepest parts. But then Endelle wasn’t exactly known for her boundaries.

  She moved just a little closer to Endelle, closed her eyes, then pushed into Endelle’s mind. She hadn’t expected the entrance to be so easy, but then Endelle had motivation to cooperate right now.

  Grace allowed herself to sink through the deepest layers of Endelle’s thoughts. Because the entrance into her mind had been so easy, Grace had thought she would move swiftly into the woman’s soul. But this layer of her mind was deep and it was dark.

  She continued to sink. At last, she found what turned out to be a brilliant turquoise field of light that seemed as broad as it was high. There was so much beauty in the center of Endelle’s domain that she could hardly contain her wonder.

  She focused on Endelle’s folding ability, and as before a kind of lock appeared. Grace focused her thoughts, shaping them into a blue key, and inserted.

  With a powerful rush, Endelle’s folding ability covered her. There was so much power that she was thrust out of Endelle’s soul. She flew outward so that when she opened her eyes she was ten feet away from Endelle and flat on her back. She opened her eyes to stare up at the enormous steel girders that supported the roof.

  She took deep breaths, but closed her eyes. She thought about Endelle, how beautiful her turquoise soul was, how vast, as though it would take millennia to know her, really know her.

  She saw Endelle’s stilettos, then looked up to smile at her. It was strange knowing her in this way, the loveliness of her soul, all that beauty covered up with her odd fashion choices, her profanity, and her deep cynicism.

  “I take it you were successful?”

  “I was.” Grace rose to her feet. “But I wanted to tell you that your soul is very beautiful. I mean it’s an elegant turquoise color, which I realize makes no sense, but you have surprising depths.”

  Endelle’s mouth turned up on one side. “You mean, for a scorpion queen?”

  Grace grinned. “Yes. Exactly.”

  Endelle chuckled. “Just don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my rep.” She glanced at Marguerite and Fiona. “I guess I’m done here.”

  She lifted her right arm. Thorne reached out for her, to stop her, but she vanished anyway with a smirk and an “Oops.”

  Grace covered her ears because the alarms were incredibly shrill and loud.

  Thorne rolled his eyes and withdrew his phone from his pocket once more.

  When the alarms stopped, Grace knew the time had come to begin practicing the mass folds. Her heart thumped now. This was what she had put into motion, a spectacle event featuring obsidian flame as a subterfuge for stealing Greaves’s army away from him.

  But could the triad carry it off? Could she really do what she had promised? Only one way to find out.

  * * *

  Leto stood in the palace command center and glanced at his watch. Six-thirty. Thorne had promised him that he’d call a halt to the obsidian practice by seven-thirty. He had only an hour left; then he could head to the villa and make sure everything was ready. He had a certain plan in place involving wings and an empty house. Having checked in with Parisa, he knew she was working at the rehab center through the night, and of course Medichi was working the Borderlands with the rest of the Warriors of the Blood.

  It felt strange not to be including the rest of the brothers in the war plans, but Greaves hadn’t let up on the Borderlands and a constant flow of death vampires was keeping the WhatBees and the Militia Warrior squadrons working hard every night. And that had always been a significant part of Greaves’s strategy: to wear down the most powerful warriors on the planet, thereby reducing their effectiveness. The plan had worked well until the breh-hedden started bringing strong women to the warriors, changing the focus of each of their lives and adding all sorts of new powers to Endelle’s arsenal.

  Leto had lived a long time, and he had noticed that when evil tried to forge a wall against that which was essentially good, then life would respond and provide a countermeasure. Maybe it was spiritual in nature, or maybe it was just the immense life force inherent within the spirit of man to ensure survival above all things. In his opinion, the arrival of the breh-hedden was one of those countermeasures.

  And he and Grace were part of that.

  He focused once more on the separate grid that Thorne had brought in for the purpose of mapping that portion of the army that would submit to Leto’s command. Leto was satisfied with his progress. His biggest concern involved those warriors among the ranks who would prefer to be with Greaves. Most of his conversations with the Division Leaders ran along that line, but the general consensus was that each leader would remove those warriors to a separate area for a specified duty. That way, when the time came for the mass fold, then those staunch supporters of Greaves would remain behind.

  Because he had trained the army, especially the leadership, the troops had tremendous loyalty to their Regiment and Division Leaders. Those whom Leto contacted chose pretty quickly to align with Endelle. The generals had caused so much suffering among the divisions that the five months since Leto had left Greaves’s service had created exactly the right atmosphere for a mutiny.

  Leto had asked Endelle to create two large areas on the planet that she could cloak in mist, to which Leto could begin sending the support staff and materials any working army needed: latrines, tents, an abundance of food and water, and weapons.

  The logistics of his part in the battle plans had finally come together. All that needed to be done now was to make sure that the triad could locate each misted area with ease. From what Grace had told him, she would simply need to see the location in her mind, something that could be accomplished as soon as the locations were set up.

  Grace. Sweet Christ, his heart had expanded over the past few days. And how his life had changed. Was it only days ago that Grace had come back to him? During that time, he’d made peace with his beast-self and learned to make the transition with ease and without putting anyone in jeopardy. Incredible.

  He wanted to give her more, to give of himself fully. And he was trying. But he also knew himself, that the war had taken something from him, had made it almost impossible to give all that he had to give. He wondered if that would ever be different.

  He felt the hairs at the back of his neck rise. He turned, and sure enough Casimir made himself visible. “You are really starting to bug the shit out of me.”

  Casimir’s smile was rueful. “I need a word with you.”

  “Okay.” Leto frowned. H
e didn’t know what to make of the Fourth ascender. He recalled doing battle with him in the Convent when Casimir had been acting on Greaves’s behalf. Casimir’s purpose had been to destroy both Grace and Leto, but then the breh-hedden had gotten hold of Casimir and changed everything.

  Casimir drew in a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for that Convent mess and for my behavior.”

  Leto didn’t know what to say, but he felt angry all over again. “You took Grace to Fourth. You somehow persuaded her that you needed her. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know how you worked to manipulate and seduce her, because I do know. She deserved better than you.” His hands were balled into fists. He wanted to hit Casimir, but the damn man just stood there—no cocky smile, just sincerity in his dark brown eyes.

  “I should never have taken her,” Casimir confessed. “But I was a different man back then and I’d made a deal with Greaves. The prize was Grace.”

  Leto knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Grace had explained to him a dozen times that her intuition had told her she had to be with Casimir if she was to save Leto’s hide.

  But he was a man and Casimir had walked off with Grace as pretty as you please, and he’d been too lost in his dying blood fiasco to do a thing about it.

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” Leto said.

  Only then did Casimir smile. “Your forgiveness.”

  “Aw fuck.”

  Fortunately, Endelle showed up and ended what would no doubt have turned into one of those really awkward moments.

  Casimir greeted Endelle but then made his excuses and left.

  Leto watched him leave, thinking that he didn’t know what to make of the man. But it was getting harder to stay mad at him when he admitted he should never have gone after Grace, and even apologized for it.

  When he turned back to Endelle, he did a double take and he couldn’t help but laugh. For a while, Endelle had actually worn a flight suit and a weapons harness, showing that her warrior side was ready to do battle.

  But the other side of her that had fully embraced the spectacle aspect of their plans had clearly taken over. She wore some kind of strange spotted-fur bustier that looked similar to leopard but the spots were too small. Civet cat came to mind. Probably. A large red pendant bounced against her breasts.

  She wore black-and-white-striped, and very snug, leather pants.

  When she reached him, he said, “Thought you’d given up your fashion sense for the duration.”

  Endelle smiled. “Are you kidding? We’ve got a spectacle to put on. This is just the beginning. I have my seamstresses working on a coat with several trains, perfect for flight.” Endelle was leading the review. Unlike Greaves, who had waited ceremoniously in his concrete grandstand, Endelle meant to be the opening act.

  For some reason, he found her enthusiasm comforting. Endelle had always taken the war with Greaves in stride, something necessary for a conflict that went on for centuries. Her pleasure in her absurd clothes had no doubt been a tremendous release for her, perhaps even a passionate avocation.

  “How’s the army-hunting going?”

  “Good. Real good.”

  She met his gaze and, for a moment those ancient lined eyes filled with compassion. “Damn, I missed you Leto. You and Marcus had been with me longest, and for decades both of you were AWOL. But now you’re here. And you’re bringing me an army. I’ll bet James’s announcement wrenched your heart.”

  “More than you’ll know.” Leto was moved. He would never have believed that his service to Greaves would have taken this turn.

  Endelle added, “And you know that if any of the other generals had built the army, this couldn’t have happened.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. I think you’re exactly right. Greaves’s generals are almost as power-hungry as Greaves is. They won’t have treated their Division and Section Leaders well.”

  “So, what do you think Greaves’s strategy will be? You probably know him better than anyone.”

  “Thorne and I have talked about Greaves a lot. Over the decades, I heard a number of scenarios discussed. However, because I’m in your camp, he’ll probably change things up. One thing I’m convinced he’ll do is attempt to eliminate the hidden colonies, because he has no idea what threat level the colonial militia presents. By now, he’ll have learned that I trained the militia force and he’ll do what he can to neutralize it.”

  “How do you think he’ll do it? I mean what’s your take on it?”

  “At some point, he’ll attempt to move his death vampire force into place all over Mortal Earth, burn the mossy mist away, and attack all at once. And trust me, I know this because that’s how I would have advised him. He doesn’t do anything without measured thought. That’s why he’s still around.”

  “Have you got any idea about how to handle the colony sitch?”

  “Every colony has a militia force ready to fight, but you know the odds: one death vampire against four militia warriors. He’s been building his death vampire force for decades, feeding them from his blood slave facilities, so that they are a very powerful force. Our effort must be to keep him from burning away the mist. The death vamps can’t get in otherwise.”

  Endelle nodded. “You’re thinking the triad will have to help.”

  “Facing Greaves on multiple fronts when the time comes will absolutely require that the triad protect the colonies. And it makes the most sense. Grace is like Alison. Neither is built for straight-on battle. Tell me you know that.”

  “Yeah, I do.” She sounded resigned.

  Endelle released a deep breath. She rubbed her chest. “Wish I had my weapons harness back on. As hot as that damn thing was it gave me more comfort than I realized.”

  He glanced at the oversized red pendant. “What’s that made of?”

  She looked down and flipped the pendant up and down with her index finger. “Dead ladybugs. Don’t worry. Kaitlyn, who’s been working with me, is into all that organic shit. She actually went to a ladybug farm and collected some dead ones. Fucking waste of time if you ask me, but, hey, it’s her time. Besides, this pendant rocks.”

  * * *

  Grace stood in the desert beside Thorne, looking at the warriors the triad had been moving from place to place, just to practice the mass-folding skill. Everyone was taking a break. Marguerite had headed to the rehab center to check in on her Seer teams, to make sure they kept blocking every aspect of the spectacle event from Stannett. Fiona sat in a camp chair talking quietly on her phone to one of the blood slaves she’d been counseling for a few months now. The warriors were rehydrating.

  For the past several hours, Grace and the triad had been working with her newly acquired mass-folding ability, and she was still astonished. Seriffe had ordered a thousand of his warriors to be at the triad’s disposal for the afternoon, and Endelle had created her own version of the dense mossy mist to sustain the secrecy of their practice here in Apache Junction Two.

  In addition, Endelle had set up a second location in North Africa Two, also cloaked beneath a mossy dome of mist. It was to these two separate locations that half a million warriors each would be sent. Right now, Gideon was at the second location, with Brynna reporting in constantly over the success of each practice fold. Everything had gone perfectly, which of course made Grace nervous.

  “I wish we could try a larger force, just once.”

  Thorne nodded. “I know what you mean. But I can feel the power, Grace. It’s there.”

  “I know, but…”

  He slipped his arm around her waist. “I’m with you. Let me see what I can do.” He stepped away from her and made a phone call. When he returned to her, he smiled. “Will another five thousand do? Seriffe has them on maneuvers at the desert below Endelle’s palace.”

  Grace’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes. Five thousand would be great. Do we dare try the fold from that position?”

  “I don’t think a single fold of a large contingent will arouse too many suspicions.
Greaves will probably think Endelle was trying out her skills.”

  “But I don’t want to bring them here. I think we should send them to North Africa Two.”

  “Good idea.”

  With the plan set, Thorne made his phone calls in order to ensure that the five thousand were in a solid formation, everyone standing in squads of four and ready for a fold. He then folded straight to the McDowells so that he could mentally share with Grace the location and structure of the five thousand warriors.

  Grace sent a quick message to Marguerite via their shared obsidian pathway, then let Fiona know what was going on.

  A few minutes later, after Marguerite had returned, Thorne returned to download the location and image to Grace. Once she could see exactly what they would be doing, she placed her hand on Marguerite’s shoulder and Fiona’s.

  Thorne moved several feet away. This was the biggest change that had occurred. After working together through the afternoon, the massive obsidian power had settled down and Thorne no longer needed to touch any of the women in order to dissipate the excess power.

  This time, as the circle closed and the power began to build, Grace let it flow. She focused on her folding ability and could sense when Fiona was ready to receive her. She slid easily within Fiona, taking possession, and with a single mental effort the massive fold began. Even though the triad was at Apache Junction Two, and the five thousand warriors were in the McDowells, Grace could sense the fold as it happened.

  The shared obsidian power grew stronger and stronger, flowing upward toward the dome of mist. Grace could actually see within her mind’s eye as the fold took place, all five thousand warriors being moved to North Africa.

  Thorne’s voice spilled over all that power. “Seriffe reported that the fold was successful at the McDowells. Gideon just reported in as well, and the warriors have arrived in perfect formation.”

  Grace cheered. Fiona and Marguerite joined in.

  “Shall we do the reverse?” Thorne asked.

  “Yes,” Grace said.

  Both Marguerite and Fiona responded in the affirmative as well, and without a single break in the flow of power, Grace reversed the fold.