Page 14 of Gates of Rapture (The Guardians of Ascension #6)

He talked with them and laughed with them, until they began to slumber.

He saw the stars through the sheer drapes.

He gave thanks for the beauty of this night and for the path he was on.

He ignored the darkness of the future. Above all, he promised himself that he would fulfill the destiny he had foreseen.

In a few hours, when he was better recovered, he would pay a visit to Endelle, offering his services as a Guardian of Ascension.

As he slumbered, a dream came to him. He saw an elderly man sitting on a park bench feeding sunflower seeds to pigeons clustered around his feet. The man looked up at him with eyes that shone as he said, “Well met, Casimir. You will attend me tomorrow at the portal to Third Earth.”

“How do I find the portal when it’s been closed for so long?”

“It’s above White Lake on Second Earth, but you have sufficient power to follow the coordinates I give you now. You will awaken in a few hours completely healed. You must come to me then.” Casimir felt the information drop into his brain. He bowed to the old man, and the dream faded.

***

Grace stood in front of the mirror in Leto’s upstairs bathroom.

She’d taken her time showering, then afterward drying and curling her hair, dressing, putting on makeup, just being a girl.

She lifted a hand to flick her eyebrows a little, shaping them.

All the silver bracelets jangled, the ones she had crafted herself during her stay at Beatrice’s home.

The bracelets made a pretty sound, a relatively new sound in her ascended life.

She was nervous. Leto hadn’t exactly seen her like this but she thought maybe she needed to be forthright—not just about Casimir and Fourth and her intentions now that she was back, but about everything.

She’d changed her manner of dress, something Leto wouldn’t have noticed since he’d been in his beast-state when she arrived in his basement. Later, at the hot spring, her makeup was gone and her hair plastered to her head, no curls, no beads, no stars, no blue sapphire, no adornments.

She moved to the window of the bedroom and looked down into the open backyard. Two Militia Warriors were standing close together and laughing. If she extended her hearing, she’d be able to hear the gist. But then they were warriors. She probably didn’t want to know what they were talking about.

Okay, so she was stalling.

She put a hand to her stomach. Her bare stomach.

The full-length muslin skirt hung low on her hips, and the top was cut long at the sides but high at the middle of the waist to allow a peekaboo of her navel.

Though the blouse had long sleeves, the neckline plunged and she was very much on display.

She fingered the small sapphire in the loop just above her belly button.

Her heart tapped a little tremolo.

Would Leto even like this version of her?

“Move it, Grace,” she murmured.

She could have folded outside to the warriors, but they’d probably all draw their swords.

If she understood their positions, they’d surrounded the house.

Also, Leto had talked about folding to the landing platforms, which meant that dematerializing in the colony right now was being monitored carefully.

So she walked down the stairs and loosened up by shaking her hands a few times.

She opened the front door, and four warriors turned in her direction. The nearest was almost as tall as Leto. His brows rose and he seemed to freeze as he stared at her. The rest did as well.

“I’m ready,” she said. When no one said anything, she felt a slight blush rise on her cheeks. She’d spent a hundred years in a convent, covered from neck to ankle. She often forgot what the display of a certain amount of skin could do to a man.

She also knew that for this event and among the colonists, she was dressed properly for an outdoor, festive occasion, held at night.

The tallest one, who seemed to be in charge, blinked a couple of times and lifted his chin as though studiously refusing to drop his gaze lower. Yes, she was definitely showing some cleavage, and, yes, her stomach was bare.

“Good evening, ma’am. I’m Warrior Gideon. My squad will see you safely to the landing platforms in the valley proper. I understand you’re familiar with the valley and with the Seattle hidden colony?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Warrior Leto wanted me to tell you that platforms have been set up on the far western side of the competition zone. That’s where we’ll be going from here.”

She smiled. As though she hadn’t been folding all her two thousand years and into tens of thousands of different localities, including Fourth Earth. “You’re very kind, but I think I can handle a little fold through the forest and across a fairly narrow glade.”

At that, a glimmer shone in the warrior’s eye and his lips twitched. “I might have made mention of that fact to Warrior Leto.”

“And?”

“He might have scowled at me.”

Grace smiled. “Then allow me to take your arm for the fold.”

He moved with that easy lethal stride that most athletes and warriors possessed.

When she took his proffered arm, he spoke into his com.

His squad of eight, from all around the building, folded to his position, assumed a large V-formation flight pattern.

A moment later she felt that swift glide of nothingness through nether-space.

But despite her confidence, she landed a little unsteadily.

Gideon caught her. He glanced down at her with a questioning brow.

She shrugged. “And after I boasted about my abilities. I do have an excuse, though. My last fold was from Fourth. I forgot how short this one would be.”

He chuckled. “Show-off.”

She was laughing when half the warriors behind moved forward and started to march down the ramp in front of her. The rest would no doubt follow. Leto would have arranged this. He had said he would do his utmost to protect her.

Lifting her gaze, she took everything in at a glance.

From the elevated position of the landing platforms, she could see that the warrior games were about ready to start.

The entire colony had to be present as well as competitors from all over the world.

She could hear various languages float across the air.

To the left of the platforms, which was north in this case, were dozens of tents selling clothes, food, trinkets, and jewelry. She’d have to check out the latter, but the smell of grilled meat made her stomach rumble.

To the right were what looked like a number of massive structures that no doubt tested various warrior skills.

Arranged throughout were tall poles on which sat metal-sculpted baskets full of wood.

A crude form of lighting, perhaps? There were a couple dozen of them arranged down both sides of the event grid.

In addition, lines of torches were everywhere, guarded and kept lit by teen ascenders all wearing matching bright orange T-shirts and jeans.

She knew that the Seattle One hidden colony had a strict policy of keeping electricity-based light usage low in order to sustain the colony’s secrecy. The overhead web of moss-based mist could only go so far in cloaking the colony.

Excitement permeated the air.

When the first four Militia Warriors parted, she had a view of the ascenders waiting for her at the bottom of the platform. There were two women and four men, and she smiled since she knew them all.

Jean-Pierre stood with his arm draped over Fiona’s shoulder, his fingers laced through hers. They were both listening to Jean-Pierre’s great-grandson Arthur tell a story of some kind. She still couldn’t get over how much Arthur could have been Jean-Pierre’s twin.

Thorne stood slightly turned away from Fiona, his hand on Marguerite’s hip. She faced Leto and punched a finger into his weapons harness at pec height and was telling him something quite firmly. Thorne didn’t look happy. He kept batting her finger away from Leto.

Leto backed up a step. Grace thought she knew what was going on, so she extended her hearing; sure enough, Thorne had set up a possessive growl. Yep, her brother was growling at Leto.

Marguerite whirled on Thorne and shoved at his chest with both hands, but he didn’t budge.

He just glared at Leto over her head until she finally reached up and kissed him flush on the lips.

She had to reach pretty far since Marguerite was the short one of the group at only five-five.

She was also very pregnant. Thorne froze and kind of melted all over her, apologizing and kissing her neck and her chin.

Leto stood back from them, but he was smiling and shaking his head.

She heard Arthur’s voice as he said, “Holy shit, is that Grace?”

She glanced in his direction and once more felt a sudden heat rise on her cheeks.

“Grace?” Thorne’s gravelly voice cut through all the chatter. “Is that you?”

She shifted to meet Thorne’s surprised gaze. He was looking her up and down. She nodded.

He ran toward her and her heart warmed up. Was this Thorne? He actually smiled. He was holding her in his arms and twirling her in a circle until her legs and fairly full skirt flowed away from her. She must have looked like a large flag.

When at last she was begging him to stop, he set her down and he was grinning from ear to ear. She quickly adjusted her clothes, pulling the waist of her skirt up and the hem of her top down.

Leto moved up next to her. She heard him giving orders to Gideon and his men, but Grace was focused on her brother. “Thorne, you look so different—and can I say, wow, you actually look happy.”

Thorne extended his arm to Marguerite. “I am happy, and here’s the reason why.”

Marguerite led with her belly. Her hair was still short and very blond, which seemed to enhance her large brown eyes. She looked adorable. Grace greeted her with a hug, though she had to lean down to do it. They’d been cellmates in the Convent, and good friends. She’d missed Marguerite.