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.
Thorne’s arm was immediately around his breh’s waist, part protective, part possessive, and a big part just wonderful affection. Marguerite put her hand on Thorne’s.
“So you’ve come home,” Marguerite said. “I heard you were on Fourth.”
“I was.”
“What’s it like up there?”
“Beautiful. I stayed at Beatrice’s palace. It was similar to Endelle’s palace but practical, with more hallways and private rooms, a lovely and very large central courtyard with plants from all over the world. And a hanging garden off the second-story balconies.” She felt shy again, since everyone was staring at her. “Oh, I guess I forgot the most important part. Many of the homes, like Beatrice’s, float in the air.”
“No shit,” Marguerite said. She then patted her belly. “Sorry, kids.” She glanced back at Grace and lowered her voice. “We’re trying to curb warrior-speak. But, hey, I’m so glad you’re back. We all are.”
“It’s good to be back.”
Thorne brought Fiona forward next. She was the gold variety of obsidian flame, the first to discover her power. Jean-Pierre and Arthur rounded out the half circle on the left, next to Thorne, with Leto on the right.
As Fiona drew close, Grace felt her obsidian power begin to vibrate and rise through the bottoms of her feet as though originating from deep in the earth.
“What’s happening?” Thorne asked.
Since Marguerite was already close, Grace glanced at each of them. Power vibrated from one to the next, flowing and rippling. As though they’d always done so, they touched shoulders and formed a circle.
“Oh, the babies are kicking like crazy now,” Marguerite murmured.
Grace’s power really began to flow, and she knew it was the same for both Fiona and Marguerite. Without warning, their powers combined, though Grace could tell hers was weak since it still hadn’t been fully released. She had a sense that the men had moved back a couple of steps, taking it in.