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If all went according to plan, the first fold would take place in ten minutes.
Once more, she squeezed Leto’s hand hard.
* * *
Because he couldn’t reach Stannett, Greaves was flying blind, a state he despised more than anything else on this advanced ascended earth. He had lost contact with the Militia Warrior he’d put in charge of Stannett, and he was unwilling to leave his Estrella Complex to see what was going on. He had hoped to get that slight edge he would need to be victorious tonight.
He was almost dizzy with the potential of what could be accomplished in one bombing raid. He would destroy not just obsidian flame, but also Thorne—who led Endelle’s army—and Endelle herself. He felt almost giddy with the sheer potential so close at hand. If he could do this, all he would have to do is march his army over to Endelle’s palace and take over.
He paced his war room, trying to still the excitement that coursed through him. He had excellent visuals of the Camelback Parade Grounds, of tens of thousands of Endelle’s Militia Warriors in full black-leather flight gear, of rows upon rows of tanks, of the usual spectacle nonsense ready to take to the skies, and even a close-up of Endelle looking like she belonged in a circus.
He had but to say the word, one general would hit the GO button, and the parade ground as well as Endelle’s nearby administrative HQ would be dust.
But the one thing he’d relied on to guide him had failed. Stannett was offline, and Greaves had a really sick feeling that he’d killed the Militia Warrior.
Even if that were true, it was too late to do anything about it now.
Whatever happened from this moment forward was all up to Greaves and his limited information. He was tempted to just let the artillery take out the parade grounds now; some part of him knew that was exactly what he should do.
But the cautious part of him as well as the strategist held back. If he wiped out obsidian flame in the middle of the spectacle, the world would understand his intentions and would submit more readily. After he decimated the area, he’d finish off the colonies, eliminating all points of threat in the space of a very short evening.
* * *
The fireworks boomed and lit up the sky.
Showtime.
Grace drew in a deep breath, then glanced once more at her brother. He had really changed over the past several months. He was a new man in every sense. She hardly recognized him now, and not just because his eyes were no longer red-rimmed, but because his stature had altered. He stood with his shoulders well back, his head high. He had always been a leader of men, but now he seemed to be more. There were even rumors that he would one day become the Supreme High Administrator of Second Earth, replacing Endelle.
Not tonight, though.
She heard Leto draw in a quick breath. She glanced at him, then saw that he was looking at the monitor. Endelle was airborne, her massive train flowing behind her. Grace smiled. Whatever else the woman was, with fireworks blasting in the background, with the music blaring, she gave good spectacle. She was fit for her world and for her times.
She waved at all the spectators as her gown trailed behind her, a comet speeding by, on enormous wings, a great, glorious, irreplaceable, profane, feathered comet.
Another monitor showed the parade grounds. The troops were already on the move, marching in strict formation, making strong turns en masse, with the occasional unified shout. All the warriors knew the order of events, and it said a lot about Thorne and Seriffe’s training of the Second Earth Militia Warriors that all the men and women proceeded down the parade route as they did. Everyone understood the real possibility that Greaves would attack and that only the perfect timing and power of obsidian flame would be able to remove everyone from harm’s way before complete annihilation.
There were five huge grandstands, but all were full of Militia Warriors in street clothes. No civilians had been allowed to be present in case things went wrong.
Grace pressed a hand to her stomach.
The swans and geese and their handlers flew in from the northwest. Grace could see them in the air, but the cameras gave a much better visual so she ended up watching the monitors. This would be one fine webcast once the event was edited.
If all went well.
Oh, God. If all went well.
To Leto, she sent, I know you’ve told me, but is your army ready to fold?
He looked down at her and smiled. Hells, yeah, he sent.
Thorne called out. “Obsidian flame, mount up.”
Grace felt her stomach take a spin. This was it. Leto stepped away from her, and despite the ferocity of her nerves, and because of the practice of two millennia, she let her wings fly.
Much to her surprise, suddenly she could breathe. Something about the simple act of mounting her wings had steadied her. She even chuckled.
She glanced at Fiona, who in turn winked at her.
Marguerite also turned back and smiled first at Fiona, then at Grace. She stood two feet in front of them, in the position they intended to sustain while in the air.
Grace nodded and smiled, even though her heart raced.
Yep, showtime.
She looked once more at the image of Endelle on the monitors. She was clearly glorying in her trip down the parade route. Maybe it was for that reason—that Endelle could enjoy a moment so fraught with danger—that Grace finally let go of her nerves and began to focus on her obsidian power.
With a whisper of a thought, she could feel the rumble beneath her feet, feel the earth-based power ready to flow through her and enable her to do things no vampire should ever be able to do. She flexed her wings, just feeling them.
She glanced at Thorne. He turned toward her and offered a curious frown. You okay? he sent.
She nodded. “I’m good.”
He smiled, then returned his attention forward. He touched his headset almost continuously now, shifting from one entity to the next, speaking softly the whole time. He was fully in command.
With that, he gave the order to take to the dark night skies.
Grace reached out in her obsidian way, touched her obsidian sisters, felt the answering response, and as one they launched.
Grace’s wings plowed air. The fireworks still boomed, lighting up the sky in an array of colors and patterns. Every once in a while, she’d watch a dragon-shaped series of lights pass by her peripheral vision. Motion was good. The music wasn’t as loud now that she flew above the amplifiers and the marching warriors. The DNA-altered swans and geese flew in front of their group and behind. She could occasionally hear the handlers calling to them.
Spectacle.
One of the best parts of ascended life.
If Endelle was right, if Grace had been right in suggesting this scheme in the first place, then another kind of spectacle was about to hit the air.
