“Promise me, amos, that you won’t overdo it this time?”
Korac kept his eyes forward on Iuo’s introductory speech, but he let his concern for Sagan into his voice.
Where she held it on her lap, Sagan squeezed his hand. “No passing out this time to leave anyone at the mercy of a failing Dyson’s Sphere or Probability Matrix. Promise.”
“Shh!”
Korac languished in his slow turn to Pehton. Once he met the defiance in her garnet eyes, he let his gaze go lower and lower, taking in the skimpy dress she could tell herself she wore for Caedes, but all three of them knew the truth. It was in the orange flush to Pehton’s cheeks.
When Korac met the Lyrik’s eyes again, he mouthed, “Hussy.”
Beside her, Caedes chuckled, eyes front on the stage.
Although he indulged in making Pehton squirm, Korac clocked the individuals in the crowd glancing over at the Shadow. Sure, some of them did it out of adoration and awe, but the ones he’d noticed were mechanical, stiff, and devoid of emotion.
Celindria.
Her vessels didn’t simply pepper the crowd, they damned near comprised it. An army of thought puppets. The notion of her taking control of Korac’s volition made his skin shrivel and crawl off his bones. Celindria had dressed her bodies all like dolls for the occasion and brought them out to the big premiere.
Theater. Spectacle. Drama.
Cold eyes glimpsed Korac searching the crowd, and he faced the stage once more.
Sagan muttered, “Here we go,” before Iuo plunged them into darkness.
Korac tensed, coiled like a spring ready to strike. When Celindria didn’t make her move immediately, he looked around and caught others among the Shadow checking the crowd, too.
In the meantime, the projector pulled up the scene of a little brunette girl playing in her mother’s bookstore. Another twenty minutes passed without interference. When the film continued into the first time Xelan approached a teenage Rayne in the bookstore, Korac began to wonder if Celindria was letting the entire film play out.
“Do you think she’s waiting for an action beat or something?” Sagan whispered.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Pehton leaned forward to answer her across Korac. “I hope not. I’m puckered over here.”
Korac barked out a laugh at an inappropriate time in the movie and shamed Pehton for it with a look. It didn’t wither her. Instead, she preened. Caedes grinned on in silence while Sagan snickered into her hand.
Not that Korac gave a shit. Clearly, his Verse would’ve made for a more cinematic picture—
A blanket of light sparked from behind them, and a scream tore from the audience.
The entire front row stood at the ready and faced the…
Firework.
Someone had blown some pyrotechnics earlier than intended.
Iuo whisper-shouted, “Sorry. That’s for the Enki finale.”
The people in the audience who weren’t Celindria’s vessels blinked, or waved, or even blew kisses at their celebrity leaders. But everyone else…
Thousands of people stared at them with an identical smirk on their faces.
The crazy bitch was toying with them. Korac shivered like he did on the day he’d split the skin on Celindria’s back with Nox’s whip. There was so much wrong in her. Across the row of Shadow, Korac met Xelan’s eyes and both of them looked down the row at Nox.
The three brothers nodded.
Iuo got the hint and turned on the lights.
Nox took the lead, opened his wings, and flew above the crowd. All the bodies Celindria inhabited took a sharp intake of breath at the sight. The Icarean script across his exposed skin spelled out Celindria’s Verse in scarlet ink.
Pehton muttered, “I hope Nox knows what he’s doing.”
While staring up at him, Sagan said, “I don’t know, but he looks great doing it.”
Had Korac mentioned lately how much he loved his wife for always spreading around good self-esteem?
Nox’s baritone boomed through the amphitheater. No mic needed. “Celindria, have you decided? Continue on this path of destruction or come with me and start a new beginning?”
Spellbound, the rest of the audience watched, looking between Nox and Celindria like this was a tennis match. Meanwhile, Korac crossed his fingers and prayed to Elden this worked.
All at once in a deafening choir, Celindria gave her answer. “I want both.”
Nox, who likely understood better than anyone her ambitions, shook his head. “You cannot have me and your empire of vessels.”
“Who can stand in my way? The Shadow?” Each of her dolls heralded a cutting laugh.
It sobered when Nox said, “Me.” He withdrew his daggers and took a fighting stance.
“And me.” Rayne flew up beside her Icarus on gossamer wings, Night Killer in hand.
“We all will, Celindria.” Xelan and Tameka flew up. Him with sickles, and her with the chain dart.
Little man Pax followed on his tiny wings with his tiny sword, saying, “Even me, sister.”
Somewhere, Korac could hear glass shatter—The symphony of Celindria’s sanity breaking for the last time.
Korac and Sagan gripped their axes while Pehton went ablaze with her Siren’s gale. They and the remaining Shadow flew up to form the line and face off with their greatest enemy. An amphitheater filled with innocent people—including her puppets—comprised their battlegrounds. Around them, the peaceful tranquility of the Palatial Grounds waited in hushed silence for the final pin to drop.
The combined voices of Celindria’s army narrowed to one. “You think you condemn me, but you only condemn yourselves. There will be no place for you in Paradise.”
The fireworks went off in a dazzling blaze, and the battle for the Probability Matrix began.