May I speak with you like this, telepathically? he sent.

She nodded.

I sense two elements that have converged, my dear. Be patient and listen. You are sad for those who have been enslaved and you are sad for yourself. Your life has been as unbearable as what these Seers are about to endure, and I don’t just refer to your time of incarceration in the Convent.

She sent, How do you know so much about me?

His smile was soft. Your arrival in the colony has been foreseen for decades—just a hint here and there so I investigated. I know what your life was, Marguerite. I spoke with your parents about thirty years ago. They told me of their religious beliefs and of their method of discipline. You are feeling all that evil right now, that sense of being powerless as a child coupled with knowing what it was to be trapped in the Convent. All this forges the basis for your current suffering.

She had never told anyone about that, except Thorne. To have it acknowledged as evil changed something in her, and part of her lungs began to work again. She’d needed to hear that what had been done to her was pure evil.

Pure evil, he sent, as though understanding her exactly.

“And what Greaves intends to do,” she said aloud, “is also pure evil.”

“Yes.”

She felt weak and sick but Thorne was there, his arms around her, the nubby feel of his loose-knit cotton sweater soothing against her bare arms. She leaned against him, her new fortress against all this evil. And on some deep level she understood something about their fated relationship.

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She twisted to look up at him. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. She was as much his fortress as he was hers. She knew it in the depth of her being. They had been this to each other from the first.

She turned back to face Diallo but kept her back pinned to Thorne’s chest.

“I hate that as Seers we have no rights. We never did.”

Endelle took to her feet since everyone else was standing. She directed her attention to Leto. “What I’d like to know is, why are there five palaces? Do I take it that there is a purpose for them beyond just glorified prison camps?”

Leto had remained beside the couch, but with his arm slung over Grace’s shoulder. She seemed to be holding him up. He said, “The structure was designed by the horticultural artist, the one known as Tazianne. And it is Greaves’s belief, though untested, that the five palaces could operate as one in order to achieve pure vision.”

“Tazianne. Why do I know that name?” Endelle asked.

Thorne said, “She’s the one who created the live magnolia centerpiece in Medichi’s villa, the one that always brings bees into his house. And Kerrick told me that Tazianne helped Alison communicate telepathically with baby Helena before she was born so that she wouldn’t mount her wings during delivery.”

Marguerite glanced back at him. This was one thing she knew to be true of Thorne—he knew the details of his warrior’s lives, just as he knew the details of hers. She loved him for that.

Only what was she supposed to do with all of this new horrible information? What were any of them supposed to do?

She looked at Endelle. “So basically, if we lose the war against Greaves, all the Seers on two worlds end up in his Seer palaces.”

Endelle snorted and flipped one of the shells of her halter. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll only take the most powerful of the Seers. The rest he’ll probably use as blood slaves to sustain and increase the death vampire portion of his army.”

“Do you have to be sarcastic?” Thorne asked.

“Did you have to turn deserter, you bastard? I should have you arrested right now for this fucking stunt you pulled!”

Thorne felt the vibrations flow through him, but with his arms around Marguerite he couldn’t quite recognize what they were or what they meant—until he realized he was nearly hyperventilating with rage. He was ready to speak, ready to say things he’d wanted to say for two centuries, but the woman in his arms suddenly spun around and put her hands on his face.

“Hey,” she cried. “You’re not helping here. We have a lot of other fish to fry.”

He might have been okay, he might even have calmed down, but Endelle added, “Oh, so now you have your woman fighting your battles for you?”

That did it. Even Marguerite had the good sense to throw up her arms and step away from him.

Thorne whirled in Endelle’s direction. “Just shut the fuck up, Endelle. For once, just shut the fuck up.” He shouldn’t have said it but he was pissed. The truth was he couldn’t take it anymore, not any of it.

She stared at him for a long, hard moment, then said, “Fine. If that’s what you want, I won’t say another word.” She waved a hand to encompass Leto, Grace, and Diallo. “Use all your brilliance and sort this out. When you’ve figured out how to win a war against two million trained warriors, let me fucking know.” She lifted her arm and vanished.

Oh, shit. He was digging a goddamn hole. He wondered exactly how deep this was going to get before he was finished and whether or not Endelle would ever forgive him.

But that was trouble for another time. Besides, he wasn’t sure he cared. Something had happened to him in the last few weeks, something that may have started over a year ago during Alison’s rite of ascension, a wearing-down of his patience that couldn’t be brought back. What he was feeling was not simple. It felt old, really old, centuries old, something that was birthed the first time he’d learned of Darian Greaves.

Thorne thanked Diallo for his time, for returning from a critical council meeting to be here with Endelle.

The man’s eyes glimmered with understanding and just a little humor. He was a leader who understood the pitfalls of human nature. “I felt her power, but it seems more warrior-like than administrative.”

“I think you just defined the problem exactly. She would have made a fearsome warrior, but on Second Earth she’s the only ascender to match Greaves skill-for-skill so she’s been held to this role for millennia.”

Diallo nodded. “Well, I liked the sounds of the seashells when she moved.”

Thorne chuckled. “Yeah. She’s a piece of work.”

“You love her.”

“I do.” He glanced at Marguerite, but was surprised to find that her features were soft, almost compassionate as she watched him. He had thought maybe she would be jealous, but she seemed to understand the exact nature of what he did feel for Endelle. He turned back to Diallo. “Endelle is … my family.”

“I understand,” Diallo said. “What do you wish for me to do?”

Thorne clapped the man’s shoulder, a trick given the disparity in height, but he often did the same with Medichi and the brother was six-seven. “To be patient. This is a moment of turmoil, but it will end and very soon no doubt. How can I reach you? Because I’m certain we’ll need to coordinate strategies, especially if Stannett puts designs on your Seers here or in the other hidden colonies.” He wondered again exactly how many colonies there were, how many Seers were living in exile.

Diallo smiled. “Let’s keep it simple. I have an iPhone.”

“I have a Droid.”

“Interdimensional?” Diallo’s brows rose.

“Of course.”

Diallo nodded. Thorne laughed. He exchanged numbers with the man then said, “Let me know when your council decides to be completely open with Endelle. However, given Greaves’s ambitions and how far along his plans are, the sooner the better.”

“Understood.” Diallo lifted his arm and was gone.

Thorne turned in the direction of Leto, who wasn’t looking so good. Grace guided him in the direction of the couch. Leto didn’t so much as sit down as fall into it. He reclined his head on the tall back and closed his eyes.

Shit, Thorne had no idea what to do for him, how to resolve a withdrawal from dying blood that seemed to be ending his life at light speed. Grace’s blood had given him strength, but not for very long.

Well, one problem at a time.

He had a scorpion queen to deal with.

When Marguerite stacked the still-full mugs on one of the trays, then headed toward the kitchen, he followed her.

He knew what he had to do next but he wasn’t sure what to do with Marguerite.

As she set the tray on the counter, his phone vibrated. He drew it from his pants pocket and read the text.

“What’s going on now?” she asked.

He met her gaze. She lifted a brow and glanced at his phone. “Alison has invited us to Medichi’s villa. She’s putting a dinner together at five for all the warriors and their breh. She wants us both to come.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah. Will you come with me?”

She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “I think I have to. Everything seems to be changing so fast.

“It is.”

He glanced once more in the direction of the living room. “I need to let everyone know about Leto and about Greaves’s army.” He compressed his lips for a moment. “But what I have to do right now…” He couldn’t even speak the words.

She took a step closer to him. “You have to go see Endelle.”

“Yep.”

“Uh, just so ya know, I have to be there.”

He wanted to protest but she put two fingers on his lips. “My gut is screaming at me on this one, Thorne. I have to be there, but I’ll keep my distance and I won’t say a word. I promise.”

At that, he smiled. “You? Not say a word?”

Her smile was crooked. “Well, I’ll try to hold my tongue.”

If it had been any other moment, he would have teased her about that, but yeah, right now he had to finish this thing with Endelle. He’d put it off long enough.

He focused on the link with Endelle deep within his mind. He’d cast an internal shield all around it to prevent a dialogue from the time he’d gone AWOL and dropped down to Mortal Earth. He very carefully began removing the shield, in part because he hadn’t constructed one before and in part because he was afraid he’d hear nothing but Endelle’s resonant shouting in his head and he’d drop to the floor crippled with pain.




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