AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Good.
But they hadn’t flown another hundred yards when all that shouting and cheering started up again.
When they neared the viewing platform, another set of grandstands was close by, this time containing dignitaries and notables, not the least of which was Daniel Harding, the head of COPASS.
Not unexpected.
As the geese and swans flew away, and as Thorne angled within thirty yards of the viewing platform, he focused on the loudspeaker system, summoned his obsiddy power, and sent a short circuit through the works. The occasional flash and pop traveled through the speakers until the loud orchestral music died.
He faced his palms toward the ground and sent a warning hand-blast among Greaves’s marching soldiers, now stopped in their tracks and staring up at him and his men.
The moment the blast released, the army scattered.
That much energy would have hurt.
In the empty space that ensued, the Warriors of the Blood, except Thorne, dropped down to form a circle beneath Thorne, swords drawn, each man in his fighting crouch.
Thorne flapped his wings slowly and sustained his position in the air. He flew forward then called out in a voice that bore three split-resonances: “I hereby declare this spectacle illegal. You will disband at once or suffer the consequences.” Because he’d split his resonance, dozens of screams followed. There were few ascenders powerful enough to withstand the combination of regular speech and split-resonance. If he’d added telepathy, he could have shattered some of the minds present.
He stared at Greaves and for one of the few times he’d known the bastard, Greaves appeared confused. But he rose from his chair very slowly then levitated.
He floated some ten yards in Thorne’s direction.
Thorne knew in that moment that even if Greaves came at him with every power he had, Thorne would take him on. He didn’t care in this moment if he died. He’d simply had enough of the direction the war had taken and he was taking his first stand.
If it was his last, so be it. He knew that his example would be honored and followed by a hundred good men, a thousand, a million.
Greaves waved his arm in an arc and the booming of the fireworks suddenly ceased. He called out, also splitting-resonance, “And I say that you are disturbing the peace, Warrior Thorne. This was a spectacle event, that is all.”
“Bullshit. Send your army home, or by God we’ll start sending them away for you.” Fiona was on standby. If he needed to, he’d let her channel him, and start shipping the soldiers away by the tens of thousands, to all sorts of hostile environments.
Greaves knew that Endelle’s faction had that power, since it had only been a few weeks ago that Endelle, inhabiting Fiona’s body, had accomplished exactly the same thing.
Greaves started to float backward. He lifted his right arm. Thorne almost relaxed, assuming he meant to dematerialize.
Instead, three death vampires, all wearing Third Earth braids, began to fly in his direction, one from the east, one from the south, and one from the north.
He folded his sword into his hand and let his obsidian flame power flow through his body.
He felt the quickening of strength and speed, the one he had known when Fiona assisted him. But this time that quickening came from deep within himself.
He could also feel the warriors below him begin to spread out in an ever-greater circle, giving him space.
He could feel them all, his warrior brothers, on guard below him, protecting him. If he needed help, they were right there for him.
Luken entered his mind: We’re good here, boss. Take these three blue pricks down. We’ve got your back.
And there it was, the truth more important than all the other truths. He was supported, backed up, and not alone in this fight. His men would die with him if they needed to.
On the Third bastards came, each the size of Luken, but physically stronger and faster.
Thorne flapped his wings, twisted slightly, and began a slow spin, keeping each of them in sight. He saw the strategy. They would launch at him at once.
He sent a message to Fiona: Strengthen my vision. He felt her next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, and it was as though he could see every infinitesimal shift of eyebrow, wing, shoulder, and hand of all three at once.
He knew he was glowing. He could see himself reflected in their eyes.
And so he spun.
The attack came, three blurring at him like lighting, swords whirling. But his enhanced vision saw each move as if in slow motion.
He sliced once to the south, once to the east, once to the north.
Down three Third Earth death vampires fell, one of them screeching loudly.
He stopped the spin and drew close to Greaves. He split his resonance again. “You will disband at once.”
Greaves started to lift his arm and with the intuitive sense that came from his obsidian flame power, Thorne knew his foe intended to launch an even larger force against him.
But Thorne focused on Greaves’s face and found the vibration that allowed his body to memorize the features, the size and shape of the head, the entire build—and suddenly he was Greaves.
The Commander’s eyes opened wide. Even his lips parted.
Finally, the bastard was impressed.
He lowered his arm.
A rolling cry of astonishment spread through the spectators in the grandstands. Thorne wasn’t surprised when people began vanishing. In ones and twos first, then in whole groups until at last, only Greaves, his generals, and his army remained.
Harding had been one of the first to leave.
“Well? What will it be, Commander?” Thorne smiled. His face felt different, his teeth, the shape of his cheeks, the arch of his brows.
Greaves returned to sit on his throne-like seat. This time he lifted his opposite arm and what do you know, his army began vanishing until at last even the generals were gone.
The floodlights faded as well so that in the end it was only Thorne and his silvery white wings that lit the space between them.
Greaves smiled. “It would seem you’ve changed.”
“I have.”
Greaves nodded. “I have only one thing to say. Take care not to mistake this night’s work for a serious victory.”
Then he was just gone, no lifted arm, nothing.
Gone.
The military spectacle review was over.
Thorne drew his wings into parachute-mount and lowered to the ground. But when his warriors caught sight of him, still holding Greaves’s form, he had eight swords pointed at his chest and back.
He smiled as he morphed back, though he stumbled once. Morphing was no easy task.
“Shit,” Luken cried out. “That was one f**ked-up Halloween mask you had on.”
