He found the segment she was looking for, the links between the secondary construct and the security station underground and snapshotted it, sending it her way.
Once he had, he realized he should speak.
“Will that be adequate?” he said, clearing his throat.
She smiled at him. Friendly. Warm.
For an instant, he saw something else in her eyes, too.
Revik… I love you…
He did not know what that something was. The emotion contained some flicker of resonance somewhere, in a more distant part of his light.
It was irrelevant, though. Not helpful.
“Do you need anything else from me, sister?” he said politely.
She looked over from where she’d been discussing something earnestly with that same group of seers––or perhaps it was a different group by now. Most of them looked vaguely familiar to him, but again, not in a way that was truly relevant.
“No, brother,” she said, her voice gentle. “No, you may occupy yourself however you wish now. We will call you if we require your assistance again.”
Revik nodded, once.
He saw another of those flickers in her expression as he did.
That time, he barely bothered to record the impression.
He went back to watching the birds in the trees.
His mind toyed with that distant taste, confused by it, strangely pulled. The feeling was almost wanting. Not like sex wanting exactly, or a wanting of food. This felt different, deeper. It lived under his skin, in some part of himself he could no longer see.
He wondered about the birds, if they felt that pull.
Revik…
The voice was faint, a whisper on wind.
Revik… I love you…
Feeling lived there, caught in a bird’s song as it flickered through a pocket of air between branches. He wondered about the birds. He wondered if it confused them when the leaves changed color. He wondered if it bothered them when they fell to the ground, leaving the branches bare.
He wondered if they missed one another.
He wondered if they missed particular trees.
I love you so much, baby. So much. You’ve done so well. But I’m coming now. I’m coming for you…
Feeling the wind grow colder on his skin as he watched the sky, he wondered.
“HOW CLOSE ARE we?” I said, feeling my jaw harden more. “Can you ask one of them to tell us that much, at least?”
“No,” Jem said, his voice harder. Turning slightly in his seat where he rode shotgun next to a big seer named Tanis, he gave me a disbelieving look. “No, Alyson! Gaos. Do you want us to be gunned down like animals? They should probably be fucking blindfolding me at this point, given I actually know this part of China a little.”
Squinting out over the mostly treeless and rocky plane as the jeep kicked up dust, he exhaled even as he gripped the rifle he’d propped against one leg tighter in one muscular hand.
“Luckily, none of it’s fucking recognizable at this point,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Just about every landmark I might have recognized appears to have been wiped off the face of the map… so don’t even bother trying to read me for any of it, Esteemed Bridge.”
I could feel the stress in his light; I knew it came from more than his words.
I also felt the pain there.
As I thought it, he looked at me, sending a hard pulse of the same right at my chest. Giving him an annoyed look, I didn’t bother to tell him off, but only turned my head, staring out the same side of the jeep as he had.
Instead of a gun, I gripped the overhead roll bar, unable to keep my seat very well as the old Soviet model bounced down the uneven road. Fighting not to react to the possessiveness I felt coming off Jem’s light, I forced myself to try and listen to his words, to think past the emotion flickering in harder pulses between us so I could grasp what he was actually saying.
“…They have access to the goddamned People’s Liberation Army,” Jem continued, not glancing back at me that time, or seeming to notice my silence. “…in addition to whatever Revik brought with him over here. Or had you forgotten just how well-funded Shadow’s people usually are? They probably have satellite cannons, for fuck’s sake.”
I fought with the anger that twisted through my light.
I knew he was right. I knew he was right.
It didn’t really help.
I also knew I wasn’t really angry at him… or really angry at all, honestly. The anger was simply how everything else was coming out.
I also knew how irrational both of us were getting out here, and some of the things that were probably contributing to that.
Things I couldn’t afford to think about right now, either.
“We need to get there,” I told him, unable to stay silent. “Dragon’s coming… I can fucking feel it. If we don’t get there soon, we’ll be too late.”
That time, Jem turned. His green eyes met mine, right before he scowled.
Then he looked at the big seer sitting next to him, almost like he wanted to yell at him next. I couldn’t help but wish he’d yell at him to drive faster.
Jem and I were definitely starting to get weird out here.
It didn’t help at all that we couldn’t go into the Barrier at all… or sleep… both of which were starting to catch up to us now that we were going on four days. We had mobile constructs, sure, but no one was kidding themselves that would be enough when it came to Revik and me.
So yeah, I definitely couldn’t do either of those things, for pretty obvious reasons.
Truthfully, I was more or less jacked up on amphetamines at this point. I’d been avoiding sleep mainly by pacing through the camp at night and posting myself as guard 24/7.
Before we left the plane, it was decided by Wreg, Balidor and Yumi that Dalejem was too connected to my light for us to risk him sleeping or going on any Barrier jaunts, either.
I’d looked for Revik a few times.
Under heavy supervision, of course.
Meaning Tarsi, Balidor, Declan, Vik, Anale, Neela, Yumi, Wreg and Varlan supervision.
Also, yeah, I had no idea where we were really, apart from “Asia.” We already knew our mole would have reported to Shadow days ago that I was heading east.
Dalejem and I were having other problems, too.
Sex was weird, for a lot of reasons I didn’t really want to think about. Those reasons might have differed somewhat between us, but the Barrier thing made it all worse.
Jem had gotten so frustrated the night before he’d started yelling at me in the middle of us making out in the jeep. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was this exact same jeep. He’d accused me of being unable to keep out of his light––and out of Revik’s light.
He’d yelled at me, saying he couldn’t even fuck me a last few times, since he couldn’t trust me not to signal Revik.
I’d felt the jealousy there, and grief.
I’d understood what he was saying to me, and I couldn’t help reacting to the emotion in his light. I knew the lack of sleep was amplifying everything, especially all of the least rational, more volatile stuff going on with us. I knew our light was stretched thin, and I knew Jem understood that as well as I did.
I also knew what he wanted to hear from me.
But I couldn’t give him that. I couldn’t, not now.
I suspected Jem knew that, too.
Honestly, I didn’t want to think about Jem at all right then, other than to remind myself that neither of us was exactly operating on all four cylinders at the moment.
I felt like the second I walked off the damned plane, some kind of switch flipped in my light. Whatever it was, all I could think about now was getting to Revik. All I could think about was him and Lily and getting there before Dragon did––pulling Revik out of there before Dragon put a gun in my husband’s hand and told him to blow his own fucking brains out.
I knew that was probably a worst-case scenario, but I wasn’t exactly feeling ratio
nal enough to calculate the odds. I didn’t know the exact nature of the danger I feared, but I found it plenty easy to obsess on my lack of knowing.
Like now, all I could think about was how little of Revik I could feel in those bare tastes I’d gotten of his light.
I had to fight harder every hour we spent out here to remain remotely rational about how little control I had over what was happening. I knew that was tied to my near-panic at wanting to reach Beijing. I also knew that panic was bleeding into everyone around me at this point.
Especially Jem.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could do about that, either.
We had to assume the absolute second I knew where I was, Revik might know that, too. Given how things stood with him right now, we also had to assume that Menlim would know bare minutes after that.
I couldn't think about that, though.
Whenever I tried to think about that, or to explain the few things I’d managed to touch in Revik’s light to Jem––or even to Balidor or Wreg––that panic vibrating under my skin got so bad I couldn’t think at all.
Still trying to distract myself, I gazed over the landscape, both frustrated and grateful I didn't know China well enough for the view to help me in the slightest.
I could get a sense of people up ahead.
I could even feel that it was probably a lot of people, without reaching out in any way with my light or in the Barrier.
I also knew how utterly meaningless that was out here. I could be picking up imprints from a large cluster of armed refugees, a slave camp, one of the thousands of Chinese cities and towns I didn’t know the names of––a well-organized band of marauders.
The not-knowing messed with my head.
It also made the panic in my light worse.
I was struggling to control it, gripping the roll bar in both hands, when Jem looked back at me. Staring at my face, he frowned, then leaned towards me, jamming his muscular body in the space between the seats. He let go of the gun long enough to wrap one of his hands around my arm, meeting my gaze.
“He’s going to be all right, Allie.”
Meeting his gaze, I fought to feel some sense of comfort in his words. Anything besides that fucking panic that wanted to wipe out my mind.
“Allie.”
I forced myself to nod, to return his gaze.
That was worse though, because there were tears in his eyes.
“I love you,” he told me.
Feeling the pain in my chest worsen, I nodded to him again.
Then some part of me said fuck it, despite what I’d thought to myself only minutes before. He had a right to hear it… at least once.
“I love you, too,” I told him.
I saw him flinch.
Then that pain I’d felt in his heart nearly blinded me.
Leaning towards me, he kissed me on the mouth, gripping my hair tightly in his hand.
But I couldn’t handle that right then, either.
Not for very long anyway.
Clenching my jaw after I ended the kiss, I looked away, out over the dusty ground as the road grew more level again. I continued to stare out over nothing as he caressed my face with a gloved hand, sending more warmth into my chest, sending reassurance, calm, love.
He did it cautiously, careful not to tip the flare in his light to the point where either of us could be seen in the Barrier. At the same time, we were so close to one another right then, I couldn’t help but feel swallowed in the heat of him.
“We’re going to find him,” he said, his voice harder. “He’s going to be all right, Allie. I promise you. We’ll get there in time. We will.”
I nodded, but I still didn’t look at him.
As much as I knew Jem meant it, and as much as I loved him for saying it… I knew how meaningless it was, too.
“…DID YOU HEAR me, brother?” the voice said, stronger that time.
Revik glanced over, frowning slightly when he realized he hadn’t.
Dust kicked up around him in some foreign place. Endless horizons. Jagged tires. A bumpy road where people came at him on horseback.
Big, blond warriors, carrying guns and spears.
He didn’t know where he’d been. Wherever it was, it was fascinating and terrifying. A place of dust and death, cold and not enough water.
He wondered where it was.
The seer sitting next to him was familiar to him. Very familiar. Unlike most of the others who passed by and at the edges of his light, Revik actually knew him.
He knew him without having to think about it, without having to try and remember.
“No, uncle,” he said politely. “I apologize.”
The seer waved a dismissive hand, his voice understanding. “It is quite all right, Nenzi,” he said. “I do need you to comment on this, however, so please pay attention.”
Revik nodded, arranging his seat as he leaned forward slightly.
It was morning.
He had faint memories of the night before.
Of food. Of being in a soft, warm place.
Somehow, what he remembered best came later, though. It came after he was alone, drifting in the more chaotic tumble of dreams and light. Dreaming of dust, or turning tires, of guns. Of kisses and warm fingers. Of a land where there were no trees… no birds…
He could see men on horseback there. They held old-looking rifles.
Gunfire. There had been gunfire.
Now colorful kites twirled in the wind overhead through the open walls of the raised platform where they sat. He heard birds in those trees, smelled someone cooking breakfast in a nearby room. Below them, Revik heard water falling over uneven rocks, the murmured laughter of voices in the garden. Voices he knew to be human.
They were servants though, he thought.
Not dangerous.
Sighing in a purring, clicking kind of sound, the older seer gave him a level look. “Nenzi?”
Revik turned at once. “Yes, uncle. I am listening.”
Menlim nodded, the frown fading from his lips.
“Very good, brother,” he said, nodding again. “For this is important. Do you remember what I told you? When we spoke of your family the other day?”
Revik felt his mouth harden slightly as he thought.
He did not feel impatience from the other seer, perhaps because he knew he was trying to answer. Even so, Revik felt some milder frustration with his own inability to find an answer that met the other’s requirements. He looked up after a beat more, to find the old seer staring at him, his light eyes holding an emotionless scrutiny.
Seeming to see that Revik had no answer for him, Menlim leaned back in his chair, which was also carved of wood and covered in elaborately embroidered cushions. He folded long white fingers over dark pants, studying Revik’s face.
“About your new brother?” he prompted, softer. “The one I said might be coming here?”
Revik thought about that. He did remember.
He remembered that.
He felt for him, for the brother.
He remembered how colorful he was. How beautiful.
Darkness coalesced behind his eyes––
“No, Nenzi,” Menlim said, his voice gentle. “No. Do not. Do not go to him now.”
Clicking out of the Barrier, Revik nodded, adjusting his weight on the wooden chair, feeling a mild discomfort without knowing why at first. The thought of that discomfort did not please him. It also made him faintly aware of what might have been a mild panic living somewhere in his chest.
His mind found the reason for both things a few breaths later.
He had once more failed to assess the data correctly in order to conduct the right actions. He felt his discomfort with his inability to do so worsen.
“I apologize,” he said.
“There is no need,” Menlim assured him.
He studied Revik’s face a few beats longer.
Then he sighed again, his light exuding peace.
“I do
not wish to alarm you, brother,” he said next, his voice patient, measured. “But we may have to relocate you, my son… and soon.”
“Relocate me.”
“Yes, Nenzi.” Menlim made another of those softer, more nuanced clicking sounds. Revik followed the resonance with his light, fascinated. “Yes. Your brother is very important to me, of course… as are you. However, he is somewhat unstable at the moment, Nenzi. I must take steps to protect you from that. If necessary, I must protect you from him.”
“Protect me.”
Revik… I’m here, baby. I’m here…
“Yes," Menlim said, making an affirmative gesture. “We have been given intelligence that he may be here now––in Asia. We believe he is looking for you, Nenzi. Until he is made well, I cannot risk that he might harm you, if only by accident.”
Revik thought about this. His puzzlement returned. Looking down at the carved wooden armrests, he stroked them with his fingers as he answered.
“He is my brother, is he not?”
“Yes. He is your brother.”
Revik… baby… I love you.
Revik winced, feeling that pain worsen.
He focused on the aged seer. Confused. Confused by his words.
“Then why would he harm me?” he said, meeting that pale gaze. “Why would my own brother harm me?”
Menlim clicked at him softly, his voice holding regret.
“He is not well, brother Nenzi,” he explained gently. “Brother, I know this is difficult. But do you remember your sister? The one who betrayed you?”
Revik felt that distant pain in his chest worsen.
Revik, please… don’t listen to him…
“Yes,” he said.
“Well, then you remember how dangerous she is,” Menlim said, his voice a touch harder.
Revik, I love you so much…
“Yes,” Revik said. “I remember.”
“I am sorry to tell you this, but your brother has been in contact with her, Nenzi.” Menlim’s voice grew softer, more careful. “He is not well from that contact. We can help him, of course. And we will. But I cannot risk him harming you right now. While he is… confused.”
Revik nodded, feeling the confusion in his chest worsen.
“I understand,” he said.
Dragon: Bridge & Sword: The Final War (Bridge & Sword Series Book 9) Page 59
