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But what she really wanted to know was how he could be so crazed about Marguerite, yet she wasn’t his breh.
Thorne drew up on Endelle’s left side. They formed a tight little square, with Jean-Pierre glaring at Thorne because of how close he stood to Fiona.
Eventually, Thorne got the message, because he took a step back.
Endelle rolled her eyes then focused on Fiona. She had tried voyeuring Marguerite herself, but she couldn’t get past Stannett’s shields. The man had power, way too much power. “All right, ascender. I want you to make contact and I want you to use my preternatural voyeurism so we can see what’s goin’ on. Got it?”
“Yes,” Fiona said.
Endelle smiled. She liked the woman, she really did. She had a confident air, something she hadn’t really expected from a former blood slave.
Fiona closed her eyes and the next moment Endelle felt the woman’s being right next to hers as though she stood shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip. A subtle vibration made a strong connection, even a powerful one. Very cool.
She felt a second vibration as Fiona’s mind extended in the direction of the Superstition Fortress.
Fiona sent, I’m next to Marguerite. Open your window.
Fiona was commanding her? She wasn’t just strong; the woman had balls.
Fine, Endelle sent. She opened her preternatural window and about two seconds later, she was looking at an abysmally bare cell of a room, very dim, worse than even the Creator’s Convent.
Fiona began a slow pan to the left and up. There was one of those long windows, maybe four inches tall. Sweet Jesus.
Fiona kept panning down to the left and there on a platform Marguerite lay curled up. She’d been sleeping but now lifted up on her elbow.
Fiona? Marguerite asked telepathically.
We’re here. Endelle and I. She has her voyeur’s window open so that we can see you, both of us, right, Endelle?
Endelle jumped in. Is this the shit-box Stannett moved you to? That lying sonofabitch. He said his facility was like a Mexican vacation.
Marguerite smiled then laughed. Mexican, all right, but more like one of their prisons. So when are you guys busting me out of this joint? Oh, and just so ya know, lover boy came in here yesterday expecting some nookie, but I got my hands around his left jewel. I didn’t so much polish his little diamond as grind him to a sparkling shine. He passed out.
Endelle approved so much she couldn’t speak for a moment. When she did, she expressed her surprise. I didn’t think he liked women. Or men. He’s kind of the opposite of bisexual.
Asexual. Yeah, I got that, too. But Stanny’s a man with a plan. He’s got himself a nursery in here. Did you know he’s into baby-making big time? He’s genetically engineering Seers.
Holy f**k. So that was his game. So that was why he kept the Fortress locked down. Well, well, well.
Suddenly Marguerite sat up and backed herself against the wall.
Fiona panned to the left. Stannett himself walked in, but there was nothing casual about this visit. He looked around. “What’s going on in here? I can feel that something’s not right. Tell me, Marguerite.”
“I’m a little bored so I’ve been practicing some of my powers.” In a quick move she flicked her wrist and sent a hand-blast firework up to the ceiling, a very pretty red color.
Clever girl.
Stannett looked around. He frowned. He walked in Endelle’s direction, as though he could sense her presence or Fiona’s or both.
Endelle tried to back her window out of there, but she wasn’t driving. Fiona, you’ve got the controls. Let’s give him some space.
Fiona moved backward until once more they glided through nether-space and Endelle stood staring at Fiona, back in her office.
She looked into silver-blue eyes but neither said a word.
Endelle turned the situation over and over in her mind.
“What the hell did you see?” Thorne asked, a frown heavy on his brow, as he looked from one to the other.
Endelle shook her head. “Marguerite’s fine but we just learned Stannett’s been busy making babies. Apparently, that’s his plan with Marguerite.” She wasn’t thinking when she said this.
After nine thousand years, Endelle knew she should have learned some restraint, a little perception, something close to discretion. Instead, she felt a wave of heat flow from Thorne.
“Babies?” Thorne blended all the gravel in his voice with his resonance so that Endelle took a step backward.
Fiona covered her ears. “No, Thorne! Please don’t start this.”
Jean-Pierre jumped in front of Fiona and got in Thorne’s face. “Would you please not use your resonance when Fiona is near? Dammit, Thorne!”
But Thorne’s nostrils flared. “Move it,” he shouted. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed.
Endelle knew exactly where this would end, so, shit.
“Settle down, boys.” She put a hand on each shoulder then gripped them hard, painfully hard, until both Jean-Pierre and Thorne dipped in her direction and spewed a few profanities.
Fiona sighed and moved back to the fireplace. She rubbed both of her ears, though. So damn sensitive.
Once her warriors had settled down, she released them. Thorne returned to the window, Jean-Pierre to stand next to Fiona. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Thorne.
Fine. Whatever.
She glanced at the tickets. The spectacle event was tonight so what the hell was she supposed to do? And what the hell was she supposed to do about Marguerite?
The only event I’ve ever stolen down to Second Earth to watch was Dark Spectacle. I consider this a true aberration in my spiritual development. But as is supremely human, I could not resist the event year after year, despite my annual vows to set aside such foolishness.
—Memoirs, Beatrice of Fourth
Chapter 18
Fiona rubbed her ears a little more. At least they weren’t bleeding this time.
She looked at the tickets splayed in Endelle’s right hand. She thought she understood her dilemma. If it was a trap, and what else could it be, then Endelle would be sending people she cared about into an extremely dangerous, possibly even deadly, situation.
But Fiona didn’t have the same dilemma. “I intend to go,” she called across the room. “If that’s what you’re wondering. Call it a date with destiny.”
“You cannot go,” Jean-Pierre said.
“Why not?”
“Because it would be madness.”
Fiona shrugged. “I think it would be madness not to go. Besides, aren’t you just a little curious?”
