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“Chairman Harding,” Commander Greaves began, his resonant voice as always silky smooth. With him in the gallery to his right were, again, his generals, including Leto. “With all due respect to my esteemed rival, the Supreme High Administrator had no right under existing law to offer a shield of mist to the ascendiate. Madame Endelle has violated several rules of ascension and I hereby demand the redress of unrestricted and solitary access to the ascendiate for a similar period of time.”
A general violent hiss erupted from the Warriors of the Blood, not unexpected. Parisa would be dead within minutes of being locked up in Greaves’s world.
Endelle had no problem chiming in. “With all due respect to my most revered rival—” Here she turned toward Greaves slightly and flipped him off out of the view of the committee members. “—Commander Greaves had two of his most powerful warriors breaching the ascendiate’s home on Mortal Earth before she had even answered her call to ascension.”
“Not true,” the Commander responded in his even tone.
The committee comprised ninety-eight members and one chairperson, the chair to serve as a tiebreaker. A simple majority was needed for any resolution to pass. The members sat facing one another, and the chairman sat at the head of the room on a throne-like chair. Harding wore white robes as though he were a god. Fucking hypocrite. Was there a soul in this exalted building who didn’t know he belonged to Greaves?
Harding spoke now. “The matter before us is not simplistic in nature, but I think everyone can agree that the most basic purpose of the committee is to establish order between the opposing sides of our society. That order must be upheld. I think we can also agree that given Madame Endelle’s breach of our established ascension rules, Commander Greaves has a right to exclusive time with the ascendiate.”
The warriors booed him one and all.
“It’s a death sentence,” Santiago cried out. “And you know it.”
Harding slammed an old-fashioned gavel down hard on a block of wood. “I will have order from the galleries or we will make this a closed hearing. Do we understand each other, Warrior Santiago?”
Endelle turned around and gave Santiago the look, as in he’d better shut it or she’d have him by the short hairs.
What Marcus didn’t know was how the hell this was going to end well for Parisa.
Alison stepped up to the podium and whispered something in Endelle’s ear. Endelle nodded. Alison withdrew.
“Mr. Chairman, I believe we’ve overlooked something.”
“What would that be, Madame Endelle?” He had already motioned for Greaves’s generals to apprehend the ascendiate.
Endelle took a deep breath. “Parisa Lovejoy never formally answered her call to ascension. She was never given the opportunity. The attack on her home took place before she had the chance to reach a Borderland, and as you know answering a call to ascension must always include a demonstration of power at a Borderland.”
Pandemonium broke out as those who needed to support Greaves began shouting their objections while everyone still aligned with Endelle gave a rousing cheer.
Marcus smiled. Well, didn’t that shift things in the right direction.
“I hereby suggest,” Endelle called out in a loud voice, settling the committee members down, “that Greaves’s claims on her are not valid and I have been acting as I would toward any guest on Second Earth—I have been assuring her safety since she was attacked not only at her home on Mortal Earth but at Warrior Medichi’s villa as well. Unless of course Commander Greaves has evidence to the contrary.”
Greaves wasn’t happy. He glanced first at Endelle then at Alison behind her. Marcus thought there was fire in his eyes. The Commander’s left hand, bent slightly at the wrist, trembled as he put it back on the podium. He tried to argue that Parisa had indeed answered her call to ascension when she first mounted her wings.
Harding consulted with two men behind him. One brought forward a large book, which he opened and pointed with his finger to a particular passage. When Harding turned around, his complexion had paled; even at this distance Marcus could see a distinct sheen on his forehead.
He addressed Greaves. “There are strict rules about this, Commander, as my esteemed colleague has reminded me by referring to the committee inception documents of 1901. Responding to a call to ascension must always occur at one of the Borderlands. This has been the tradition since ancient times and it is written into COPASS law. I fear … Madame Endelle in this particular has the law on her side.”
Murmurs went round the room.
The warriors cheered.
Marcus could see the factions clearly, and those ascenders not yet belonging to Greaves sat with arms folded over chests and expressions resolute.
Harding mopped his brow with a hastily folded kerchief as he further addressed Greaves. “Because the mortal has not answered her call to ascension, there can be no rite of ascension. The laws do not apply.” He swallowed visibly.
Someone’s ass was going to hurt like hell later.
“I believe I must apologize,” Greaves said, “for taking up the committee’s time. I was gravely misinformed.” He turned to Endelle and bowed to her. “I do apologize.”
“Oh, eat shit and die, you f**king ass**le.”
Marcus grinned. It was moments like these that Endelle’s rough-hewn exterior made him happiest. She was totally out of order, but since Greaves simply lifted his arm and vanished, taking his ass-lickers with him, well, no harm, no foul.
She turned back to the warriors and lifted her fist in victory. There was only one response: The warriors as one raised their arms and gave a powerful shout in return.
Even the most careful plan
Succumbs to the power of the unforeseen.
—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth
Chapter 21
Later, at the villa, Marcus watched Havily once more work with Parisa on her flying skills. The air temp was in the hundreds and he was sweating, but he didn’t care. The women had changed into their flight suits. Both were a pleasure to watch. Both were perspiring as well and also didn’t seem to care. Havily looked happy.
This time, however, Medichi was the one to set up a lawn chair on the front patio. He reclined, albeit scowling, as the women went through their various maneuvers.
Marcus stood beside him for half an hour, his heart weighted. His gaze rarely left Havily’s brown-spotted wings and flame of hair. She was as beautiful in flight as on the ground.
He physically ached to be with her.
