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She reacted swiftly, opening her mind to Marguerite, who shared the vision with both her and Fiona at the same time. Her breath left her body in a swift rush.
“He’s begun his torching sequence. The colonies will begin to ignite in a little over a minute.”
Grace glanced at Thorne. “How do we proceed?”
He shook his head. “I can only support you. Grace, this is your call. I anchor obsidian flame, but what I understand now is that you lead it.”
She could not have been more shocked—and yet it made sense in terms of the allocation of gifts. Marguerite could only indicate the direction. Fiona’s power could only support what Grace could offer. But Grace could find the location, then learn and amplify the ability needed to fix things.
In this case, what did she need to do? What needed to happen?
Her mind whirled swiftly. She needed to stop the process at the core, at the place where it would begin, where the moss would first be lit on fire.
“The mist,” she said. “The key is with the mist.” She shifted slightly toward Thorne. “And you know how to make the mist, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then may I enter your soul and find the formula for the mist?” She smiled as she said it.
“With pleasure.”
Grace dove and felt Thorne jerk back in surprise. He was very powerful and almost prevented her from sinking. But a moment later, he relaxed and relented.
Grace had finally come to understand that she wasn’t second to him or to Patience, but an equal in power and in purpose. She dove and fell through the deep cloudy space between the mind and the soul where the key to many, many things existed.
Thorne’s landscape was multihued but in subdued tones, like the facets of his eyes that were also multihued in soft golds and greens, light browns and blues, even grays, a perfect hazel. Magnificent, she sent to his mind. You are magnificent, my brother. And so beautiful. I can feel that you are whole and that Marguerite has done this for you, given you peace.
It’s a strange thing to feel you within me. I love you, Grace, and I’m so proud of you and what you’ve accomplished. I can feel your power. It’s amazing.
She smiled and focused on the mossy mist. A memory glowed a vibrant blue color, of Diallo teaching both Marguerite and Thorne how to make the mist that protected all the colonies. She found the lock and inserted her blue flame obsidian key. In a flash, she drew from him what she needed, then swiftly pulled out.
As she opened her eyes, she realized she needed more than just Thorne’s ability to make the mist. “There is another key. Excuse me. I must go get it right now.” She had to act fast and couldn’t stop to explain.
She apparitioned to the hospital on Second, then sought and found Diallo. He was still bruised. Diallo, forgive me.
He turned his head in her direction. I can see you, Grace. You look lovely. What form is this?
A sort of split-self.
Ah. But I can feel your discomfiture. Tell me what I can do.
First, she relayed as swiftly as she could all that was happening. I have the key to the mist, but there is something more I need. I felt it within Thorne, but he doesn’t have the key to the rest of the colonies. I need to acquire the ability from your soul.
His brows rose, but a smile tugged on his lips. I have been wondering how to be of use when my body is broken. Now I know. Please, take from me what you need.
She explained in more detail what she would need to do, and when he gave permission, she dove as she had with Thorne.
She marveled at how different each person was. Diallo felt as though he carried great riches within, and when she sank into the clouds separating the mind from the soul, she landed in a place of the brightest gold. She gasped and she felt him laugh within his mind. I can see what you are looking at, Grace. I am equally surprised, but I believe that my wife may have created all that beauty. I can account for it in no other way.
Grace wanted to stay and to savor, but she had a mission to accomplish. She focused on the mossy mist and the lock came forth, almost blinding in its beauty as well. She put her blue energy within, and the gate to his knowledge opened. What she saw astonished her—the sheer simplicity of how Diallo had created the interconnected mist that sustained the secrecy of so many hundreds of colonies all over the globe. She took the secret into her soul and flew from Diallo, nodding to him in her apparition-form as she swiftly returned to the courtyard garden.
“I’ve got it,” she said the moment she reconnected with her physical self.
Thorne stood behind Marguerite, his hands on her arms. Jean-Pierre moved in to support Fiona in a similar way, and Leto wrapped his oversized arms around her. She looked up at him and smiled.
I’m with you, he sent.
She felt it again, a wave of love that hadn’t been there before. She nodded, then turned back to Marguerite. “What’s our timing?”
“Twenty seconds.”
Grace looked up. “The mist is still intact,” she said. Everyone looked up.
“But not for long,” Marguerite said. She continued the count down, “Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen…”
“Fiona, I’m coming to you,” Grace said.
“I’m ready.”
Grace opened her obsidian flame power, which flowed quickly and easily now after so much practice. She focused on the job at hand, on protecting all the colonies. She let Diallo’s knowledge of the interconnected mist flow through her as well. She apparitioned to Fiona and slid inside. She felt Fiona’s ability to enhance a skill take over so that the obsidian power was responding to the event about to unfold. How different this was from the mass-folding experience, as though this time a whirlwind flew around the garden at tremendous speed.
“Hold steady,” Marguerite said aloud. “Eight, seven, six … Hold. Hold.” Then finally, “Now.”
The energy began to flow upward in a swirling stream of silvery light. But with the light, Thorne began to levitate as though part of the stream.
“Thorne,” Grace called out, although the voice was Fiona’s since she was possessing her. “What’s happening?”
“Thorne?” Marguerite added.
“It’s okay. I’m safe within the stream of energy, but I must go on this ride.” Then he was smiling.
Suddenly the stream of light whipped through the dome of mist and stopped the charring effect. The mist began to knit back together. The light sped off into space, carrying Thorne with it.
She could feel him traveling almost at an incredible speed as the obsidian power moved from dome of mist to the next, and the next. Each time the burning was stopped and the healing of the mossy mist commenced.
