Her com lit up and Thorne’s gravel voice said quietly, “You may fold the first section at will.” Which was code for the first part of Greaves’s army.

Grace let the coordinates move through her mind, and she held her mass-folding ability in the forefront. She apparitioned, took possession of Fiona, and without hesitating let the fold begin. She felt the mass movement of a quarter of a million Militia Warriors, from Mongolia to North Africa, as obsidian flame folded them. She felt dizzy with excitement.

Leto came on the com, something she could perceive even in her split-self. “Brynna confirms.”

She wanted to give a shout, but Thorne came on softly and said, “Prepare for the second fold. Grace, when ready proceed.”

She focused on the second group, from the Australian Outback. She felt the power flowing in an almost constant loop from Marguerite, to Fiona, then herself, even split as she was. She concentrated on the coordinates, and once more she let the fold just happen. It was an amazing sensation, and all this was happening as the fireworks continued to boom, the warriors below marched, and all the swans and geese kept the focus on spectacle and not on a war-changing secret folding operation.

“Brynna confirms the second group arrived,” Leto said. “She’s folding to the Superstitions so that she can confirm the third fold.” A moment later. “She has arrived at the Superstitions. She’s ready to receive the third fold.”

Thorne’s voice once more spoke softly. “Grace, fold your third group when ready.”

* * *

Greaves heard Thorne’s voice over the com. He stared at the parade ground but couldn’t see any special movement of troops. They all moved in formation and had remained constant in number the entire distance, so what could Thorne have meant by “fold your third group”?

He had heard both Thorne and Leto talk about obsidian flame folding something somewhere, but if they were doing so right now, it wasn’t on the parade grounds.

He glanced at the monitors and spoke to his staff. “Do any of you see movement, like some kind of mass movement of the troops?”

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When he received a general negation, he peered once more at the monitors. What he was seeing looked like plain old spectacle to him.

An aide approached. He would have brushed him off, but he held a piece of paper, was sweating like a pig, and had a wild look in his eyes. Greaves got a really bad feeling. “What?” he barked.

The aide shoved the paper at him. “Your … your Mongolian army is gone.”

Greaves blinked. He looked at the paper. Glanced at the aide. Shifted to stare at his generals, who wore blank looks. He didn’t bother asking what the aide meant.

To his staff, he asked, “Has Thorne made another fold request?”

The aide that kept the monitors alive with ongoing footage, said, “Warrior Thorne just spoke of a fourth fold to his sister, Grace.”

When Greaves saw another aide flying at him from down the hall, Greaves knew.

Leto. Fucking Leto.

His army.

The fold wasn’t on the parade route. The spectacle was one big f**king distraction.

“Launch the artillery now.”

Approach the gates of rapture with wonder,

Lay down the past,

Then fall.

—Collected Poems, Beatrice of Fourth

Chapter 17

Grace had just heard Brynna confirm the fourth and final fold when Thorne’s voice intruded again, this time with an edge. “Obsidian flame, get us the hell out of here.”

Grace’s heart rose in her throat. This was it. She was still in possession of Fiona and she needed to do the mass fold of the parade route, but she couldn’t calm down. Then Leto’s words filled her mind: Ease down, Warrior, and focus on the coordinates. You can do this.

Grace took a deep breath and turned her attention to the spectacle performers in the air, to the slow flap of Fiona’s wings, to the troops on the ground and in the stands. She took another deep breath and simply let the fold begin.

She began the slide through nether-space just as the first bomb exploded.

Her mind swirled around and around. Her head hurt. Then her mind went blank.

After a long moment, she opened her eyes and blinked. She was on her feet, and Leto was holding her upright. Her wings flapped slowly. In the distance, she could hear bombs exploding.

She gave her head a shake. Leto was in front of her, his hands on her waist as he looked into her eyes. She could tell he was worried. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Did we make it? Was I too late? Is everyone safe?”

“Obsidian flame got everyone out, to the last swan. You’ve been dazed for about five minutes, which is why you feel disoriented right now.”

“Dazed?”

“Yes. I think it happened because you folded while in your split-self configuration and within half a second a shell exploded as we were all mid-fold.”

“That was close.” She looked around, but all she saw was the row of tanks. She was alone with Leto in the desert. “And are you sure all our troops got away?”

“Yes. As soon as the fold took place, and because of all the training that Seriffe has demanded of his Militia Warriors for years, all two hundred thousand of the parade troops, as well as the warriors that held civilian places in the grandstands, started folding to prearranged barracks around the world. The spectacle performers, the birds, and their handlers are in Apache Junction Two.”

“And Greaves’s army—or rather your army?”

“Brynna confirmed. We have one million warriors on our side.”

She rubbed her forehead, but she smiled and her heart expanded. “That’s fantastic. Now, tell me what the parade grounds look like?”

“Like a battlefield.”

“Did Greaves show up with his troops and tanks?”

“No. It looks like he meant only to blow the site all to hell with his artillery. Fortunately, Marcus got it all on film. No doubt he’ll have this flying around the Web right away, along with obsidian flame’s mass fold.”

“And everyone’s really safe?”

He nodded slowly. “Everyone’s safe.”

“We did it,” she said softly.

“Yes, we did. Now retract your wings so I can get you back to the palace.”

She looked around, then called out, “Casimir, show yourself. I can feel that you’re here.”

Casimir became visible and he was smiling. “That was a beautiful show you just put on. I’m proud of you, Grace.”

“Thank you.”




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