“I told you, little human, any weapons the Guardians require we will summon when the time comes,” he said, patting her hand. “Cease your worry.”
“It’s not worry,” she grumbled. “It’s disappointment. I was promised a battle royal, and now I just feel let down. You guys wouldn’t even let me dress all in black.”
Wynn sent her a look. “We need to look like all the other attendees, Kylie, not ninjas. And I mean attendees at this event, not Comic Con.”
Kylie stuck out her tongue. Childish? Yes, but satisfying.
Thinking ahead to the possibility of collateral and structural damage to the facilities, they had parked the cars not at the convention center itself, or even at the attached hotel, but at a public lot a few blocks away. No one wanted to believe it would come to that, but things happened. Either way, the parking situation meant they had to hoof it to make the meeting on time.
Kylie couldn’t help noticing the incongruity of the day. It had turned out to be one of those rare moments of early-spring perfection that occasionally settled over New England like a blessing from above. The clear blue sky seemed vast overhead, with the warm sun shining down and tempting humanity out of houses and businesses, urging the shedding of thick winter layers. A fresh breeze teased through hair and picked at light fabrics with just enough nip to remind everyone to enjoy the interlude while it lasted. The day was just too beautiful to believe that so much death and destruction lurked just around the corner, but she supposed that was what made evil evil—it didn’t care what it had to destroy, it just wanted the destruction.
The group entered the convention center and blended with the crowd of other attendees. Polite chitchat created a little blanket of sound as bodies milled in the hall outside the auditorium, plenty of coffee cups in evidence, waiting for the big event.
Kylie had to bite back a laugh that owed more than a little bit to hysteria. The “big event.” Ha. If only they knew.
A hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed. Looking up, she caught Dag’s reassuring gaze and tried to relax. It didn’t go very well, but she made the effort. Maybe if she’d gotten that cape, she’d feel differently.
She almost expected to hear tense, slowly building music in the background, like a movie sound track. Every one of her senses had gone on high alert, making her simultaneously jumpy and strangely numb, as though nothing around her were quite real; it all seemed too overamped, as if it were actually playing out on a movie screen.
Maybe she needed to take a break from her film addiction, Kylie told herself, trying to keep her actions casual as she glanced around her. At least for a while, until she could stop comparing her life to a Marvel Studios production. It might be the healthy thing to do. Put down the remote; step away from the Netflix.
“Everyone, remember the plan,” Kees said, as ushers opened the auditorium doors and attendees began to flow into the room. “We must wait until they make their move. If in doubt, look to Wynn or Ella. They will be monitoring for a buildup of energy that could signal the moment.”
Kylie nodded and tugged at the hem of her T-shirt. This one read ALSO, I CAN KILL YOU WITH MY BRAIN, partly in homage to one of her favorite television shows and partly to remind her that she could do things she had never before thought possible. As Wynn had told her, she just needed to concentrate and try not to get in her own way.
With Dag’s hand at her back guiding her through the aisles, she made her way to the spot everyone had decided on last night. The four couples would split up, with each one choosing their seats in one of the four corners of the room.
They had theorized that the most likely scenario for the Order’s plan was to open the four anticipated portals at the edges of the room around the four corners. This would effectively surround the audience, blocking them from the exits, and trapping them inside the room. Dividing up along similar lines would allow the Guardians and Wardens to launch the quickest possible response, and hopefully put them physically close to their targets.
You know, maybe.
It drove Kylie’s analytical, scientific soul bonkers that with all of their research, all of their preparation and strategizing, they still found themselves walking into the lion’s den with nothing more than a “best guess.” She felt pretty confident that best guesses were one of the main ingredients in lion chow, and she really didn’t want to have to explain to her grandmother why neither she nor Dag had managed to show up at Shavuot dinner.