Ascension
“At last, ascendiate Wells. So, let me have a look at you.”
Alison heard the strong, feminine voice behind her. She whirled around and there, not ten feet away, stood Endelle, in full-mount, her wings a light golden brown. She recognized her from Kerrick’s memories, although her wings had been a different color—first yellow, then black when she’d become angry with Kerrick. She was a tall and extremely beautiful woman, thick black hair, olive skin, strong features, a beauty queen from the Middle East. She wore dark brown suede, lots of it, sculpted to her body, and a cape of what looked like mink. She gave an impression of ancient and modern blended. She was also a walking PETA nightmare.
So here she was, She Who Would Live, the ruler of all of Second Earth, Her Supremeness, Madame Endelle.
In the flesh, the woman responded, inside Alison’s head, just like that.
Alison reached out with her empathy, without thinking. Endelle narrowed her eyes, “Not on your life, ascendiate.”
Alison retreated. “My apologies. An old habit.”
Endelle nodded. “Understood.” Turning to Kerrick, she said, “Make the introductions, Warrior. I’d like to formally meet the woman who’s been making my life a shitfest.”
At these words Kerrick took a protective step closer to Alison, the only sign he was even aware of her. “Madame Supreme High Administrator, may I present ascendiate Alison Wells, previously of Carefree, Arizona, Mortal Earth. Ascendiate Wells, Madame Endelle, Supreme High Administrator, Second Earth.”
Alison held Endelle’s gaze. More than anything she knew she was looking at her future in all its myriad forms. Kerrick had told her that only Endelle had ascended with the same levels of powers Alison now possessed. She also understood that Her Supremeness, as the warriors called her, should have advanced to an Upper Dimension millennia ago, remaining on Second Earth only to serve as a necessary force against the Commander.
Endelle looked her up and down. Ponytail was a good idea, she sent. Black leather suits you. It’s probably a good thing your man can’t get past his anger right now, otherwise he’d be all over you.
Without really thinking, Alison sent back, I think you might have some boundary issues.
“Boundary issues?” Endelle cried aloud, taking a step forward, the tips of every feather shimmying. “You intend to start up your psycho-crap with me, ascendiate Wells?”
Alison shook her head. “Not at all. I’m telling you I don’t intend to discuss my love life with you.”
“Whatever.”
Endelle’s wings reached all the way to the tall ceiling, while her wingspan took up at least a combined twenty feet, larger than even Kerrick’s. The present configuration meant that when in full flight, with the wings extended as far as they could go, my God, the span would reach over forty feet from tip to tip.
“Let me speak plainly about today’s engagement,” Endelle said. “You have only one mission here—to put Leto in the ground. So do it, ascendiate. Know that I’m counting on you.”
“Then you’ve backed the wrong horse,” Alison cried. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but the last time I checked, I was a therapist, not a warrior. I have difficulty swatting flies.”
“Listen, missy, where the hell do you think you are? A vacation in St. Croix? This is Second fucking Earth and you’re battling to stay alive. Get with the program and start focusing on taking the bastard out. I’ve seen your training and whatever you may think, you can do this. Furthermore, I expect you to.” She turned to Kerrick. “You need to talk to your woman and set her straight on a few things. Now.”
She lifted her arm in a theatrical sweep then vanished.
* * *
Kerrick breathed hard. He had been working to keep his temper in check, but this last completely insensitive display by the ruler of his world put him straight over the edge.
“So much for a goddamn pep talk,” Kerrick cried. “Dammit, I should have warned you. Endelle gives bitch a bad name.”
He wanted to punch something. Hard. His hands bunched into fists and stayed there. He ground his teeth. He couldn’t bear what was happening to Alison, that she was being forced to battle Leto in front of tens of thousands of spectators. He felt unglued, coming apart at the seams, unraveling.
He hated this farce, this arena contest, which had only one end as its purpose … Alison’s death!
“Kerrick, how am I going to do this?”
Her words, the desperation in her voice, the deep fear in her beautiful blue eyes, all did him in and he lunged for her, dragging her into his arms. He felt her sob against him as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
Kerrick. Kerrick, she wept within his mind.
He held her tight all the while stroking her back. He wanted to tell her everything would be all right, he really did. His fears, however, kept him silent.
After a minute, she drew back then looked up at him, her eyes wet. Lavender streamed over him until his senses reeled, his heart ached, and his knees turned to water.
She released his waist and drew in a ragged breath. She wiped at her face with trembling fingers.
Christ. He had to pull his shit together right now. In front of him was a novice warrior who would soon go into battle. He had to think of her in that way, not as the most precious part of his life.
He folded a tissue into his hand from Queen Creek. He dabbed at her cheeks.
“Endelle believes you can beat him,” he said. “Let that be your confidence.”
“She really thinks I can beat Leto?” Hope fluttered in her eyes.
“Yes. She said so last night. She told us we were a bunch of faithless vampires because you possess more power than you know. So take courage in her belief in you and let the images I gave you take over. Just remember, Leto is powerful so don’t try any special tricks unless you’re certain to prevail. Tell me you understand what I’m saying to you. Leto … Leto is a cunning vampire, a skilled warrior. I fought beside him for centuries. Be prepared for anything.”
She nodded in a brisk flurry. “Yes. Yes. Be prepared for anything.”
“Also, remember he has weaknesses, like any warrior. Find his and you’ll beat him, and don’t doubt for a second he’ll try to wear you down.”
She nodded all over again.
This was better. Even some of his own fears subsided.
In a brusque movement he drew her into his arms again then kissed her hard on the lips. She met the kiss, her lips parting. He groaned as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, wishing he could take her back to Queen Creek, take her to bed and keep her there … forever.
He released her to settle his hands on her shoulders. “You can do this.”
She nodded as if she understood even though fear still streamed from her like mist from damp earth.
He felt a displacement of air at the back of his legs. He whirled and planted himself in front of Alison, bringing his sword into his hand at the same moment in case what was arriving wasn’t friendly.
But Havily materialized in front of him, looking professional as always in a navy suit, her red hair in waves over her shoulders. He shifted to return to Alison’s side, folding his sword back to his weapons locker.
“Hey, Havily,” he said.
She nodded. “Good evening, Warrior Kerrick, ascendiate Wells. I’m serving as Alison’s Liaison Officer throughout the battle.” She settled her gaze on Alison. “If you have any questions about the spectacle event, I will do my best to answer them. I’ll be accompanying you onto the arena floor as well as serving you throughout the event.”
“Oh, thank God,” Alison whispered. “I thought I would be entirely alone.”
Kerrick looked down at her, wishing like hell he could take this away from her. “Havily will take good care of you. All you have to do is ask. Right, Havily?”
“Of course, Warrior Kerrick.”
“Good. I’ll escort you both to the top of the ramp then I’ll join the Warriors of the Blood. Havily, why don’t you walk Alison through the process from the time we leave this room.”
Havily’s voice flowed, a soothing melodious lilt, as she explained the mechanics of what Alison could expect once she made her appearance in the arena proper.
A few minutes later an assistant appeared in the doorway, with clipboard in hand, pressing his earpiece. He waved them forward.
Showtime.
* * *
Alison’s head throbbed, her heart raced like a jackrabbit running for cover, and her knees had simply disappeared. She sure as hell couldn’t feel her feet.
Was this really happening?
She felt dizzy, disoriented, not exactly inside her body.
Oh, God.
Once in the corridor, Kerrick took up a place on her right and Havily on her left. The end of the hall seemed to be about ten miles away. Hey, when did she begin walking?
She struggled to breathe. She kept repeating a single line in her head: I can do this … I can do this … I can do this …
Okay.
Okay.
Suddenly the corridor was far too short and three seconds later she arrived at the arched opening to the arena proper. Havily caught her elbow and kept her from going farther. “We wait here for just a moment.” Smoke from the fireworks drifted in the air and numerous robotic television cameras floated everywhere, at least four not far from her. She let her gaze drift over the impossible sight of fifty thousand spectators. Endelle’s faction took up thousands of seats to the left, while the Commander’s vast army, in uniforms of maroon and black, sat opposite Her Supremeness.
When Alison’s face appeared all at once on the dozen or so enormous screens stationed throughout the arena, the spectators erupted into a hurricane of shouts, cheers, boos, and stomping feet.
Oh. God.
Kerrick gripped her arm. She glanced up at him. He met her gaze, his expression fierce, but he said nothing. He just nodded once very firmly then departed, moving behind her.
I can do this.
She felt Havily’s hand on her back very gently, a tender and welcome support. The comforting gesture allowed her to finally draw a deep breath.