This late in the year the sun was already dwindling a little, turning the sky a gorgeous coral pink. Overhead, dark clouds were reflecting the dying light, creating a lush, textured tapestry of pinks and mauves that deepened into fuchsia and aubergine where the clouds were at their darkest.
It was genuinely stunning, especially as a marquee for what lay beneath it.
In all my travels, I’d never actually been to the Grand Canyon. I’d been through the state before. I’d seen the postcards and signs for it, but my path rarely brought me in line with the bigger tourist traps. Biggest ball of twine in Minnesota? Yeah, that I’d seen. One of the seven natural wonders of the world? Nope.
It literally took my breath away.
Teddy guided us from the car to an overlook, where we could see the canyon stretching out beneath us for miles in either direction. It was impossible to believe something this gorgeous could actually exist, let alone be sitting here waiting for us to see.
The Ourea had outdone themselves with this one.
The walls of the canyon were striated with bands of different color, as if the whole place had been constructed out of mismatched Legos rather than one solid rock.
Below, a river snaked through, looking more like a slim silver line than the raging tumult of water it probably was.
This place was a drug I wanted to inject straight into my veins. I’d never seen anything like it.
As the overhead light changed, so did the color of the canyon, giving the impression we were in a living painting that could alter its colors at any given instant. I wondered if the moods of the mountai
n gods impacted the color too, or if they had long since forgotten they’d built something this stunning and never thought of it again.
How could anyone forget this place?
My own moods were shifting as fast as an electric storm. I’d gone from fear, to anger, to a buoyant kind of joy all in the span of the last fifteen minutes. It was leaving me drained and queasy. I wasn’t used to feeling quite this much.
There were days I liked to pretend I didn’t feel anything at all.
“You’ll be standing over here,” Teddy announced, gesturing to a long platform that extended well over the lip of the canyon.
My heart gave a stutter. “Is that safe?”
“For you or for the audience?”
For the first time I noticed the mass of bodies queued up around the stage area. There were barricades and guards in place to hold anyone rowdy in check. A dozen police cars were in the parking lot, and a huge tactical van as well.
“Um, for both, I guess?” I was mostly worried about myself at the moment. If crowd control continued to hold people where they were, they would be well outside the danger zone.
“Perfectly safe. The audience is seven hundred feet back from where you’ll be standing. We measured.”
“And for me?”
“The platform has been designed to withstand all types of natural disasters,” he assured me.
That’s what I was, after all. A natural disaster.
“Are you sure?” To me it looked like a thin expanse of glass and metal that would break off the second I got to the end. And that was without me hitting it with lightning.
“It is meant to hold up against earthquakes, wind, rain, and yes, even lightning.” He smirked, and for the first time I thought Teddy might actually be a human and not a productivity cyborg.
“Okay.”
I didn’t immediately move towards the platform. Instead I withdrew to the railing and looked at the canyon below. I could make out the small shapes of people moving on horseback a safe distance from where my strikes would land. The horses had the unfortunate effect of reminding me of Macha, though.
She’d be expecting me to present her with the killer by the time the convention was over. I hoped I’d still be alive to do it.
I drank in the view a bit longer, giving myself some extra time before I pivoted back to the waiting group. Sawyer was the only other one interested in looking at the view, standing beside me and leaning over the railing as far as it would let her. Everyone else was waiting for me, as if I could be even remotely as interesting as the Grand Canyon.
Leo moved up next to me and put his hand on my arm, rubbing it gently. I often forgot how big he really was until he was standing right beside me.