If she understood my meaning, she didn’t comment.
Walking where she indicated with one sweeping hand, I left Maiwan and passed through the arched red doorway.
IT FELT LIKE piercing a membrane.
It was as if my body tore a hole through the construct on its way out––a hole that rapidly sealed itself, with me on the other side of it.
I blinked up at grittier, yellower sunlight.
Sound crashed around me, shocking and disorienting.
I tensed as my light shifted, morphing into a defensive, shielding configuration around my body. Most of the sound turned out to be honking cars, but I couldn’t fully relax, even after my mind understood that. A crowd jostled and stared from the other side of a white-painted metal fence. I heard their voices, words rising and falling in languages I didn’t know, the occasional shout in Mandarin. All of those I could see looked and acted human.
So did the uniformed soldiers in front of them, waving them past with white gloved hands.
A few people pointed, seeing me exit out the rounded portal.
Nerves washed over me.
I realized how visible I was. I hadn’t read them yet to see if anyone recognized me, but I wasn’t wearing prosthetics and my face had been all over the feeds for more than a year. Would the seers in the towers push them into forgetting what they’d seen, or should I do it? Could I even handle so many, given the flow of foot traffic? It seemed unlikely.
My body tensed as I tried to decide what to do, which direction to walk––
When a shape loomed in front of me, blocking my view.
I blinked up at it, making out a white-toothed grin splitting a broad face. Hazel eyes shone like bright orbs in dark skin. A distinctive white scar curved from his ear up to his eyebrow. Somehow, he looked even larger than I remembered him.
“Garensche?” I said, numb.
“Ilya!” His smile broke wider.
Before I could recover, he swept me up in his massive arms, squeezing me until my spine popped, and then throwing me up in the air. Laughing, unable to help it, I pushed at his shoulders after I landed back in his arms.
“Put me down, you monster!”
“Of course, Esteemed Bridge!”
He set me carefully on my feet, as dainty as if I were made of glass. I continued to hold his arms, staring up at his face in incredulity.
“You’re alive!” Thinking about this, I smacked him on the chest, hard. “You’re alive! You didn’t bother to tell me? To let me know at least?”
His eyes held regret. “I am so sorry, ilya.”
“Sorry? You let me think you were dead!”
“I am very very sorry, ilya,” he said, clicking regretfully. “Truly sorry. I could not get a note to you. I could not tell you.”
“Couldn’t tell me? Why?”
He glanced at the gate to the City behind me, then shrugged. “Orders. You know. And there would have been questions… I was with the Adhipan for many years, since I was a child. They could maybe track me, if they thought me alive.” Sighing, he placed his hands on his thick waist. “You understand these things… yes, ilya?”
Fitting the pieces together, I frowned. “So just how long have you been working for Salinse?” Frowning harder at his silence, I continued to think. “It must have been before, right? Before Revik turned back into Syrimne? You were their contact in Seertown. One of them, anyway. Right? When did you join the Rebellion, Gar?”
Garensche’s expression turned apologetic.
“It has been some time,” he admitted, making a vague gesture with one hand. “I could have left earlier, after D.C. The boss asked me to stay… your husband. He wanted someone to keep an eye on you, ilya. Keep you safe from those fucking crazy people.” His eyes hardened. “…The crazy people who shot you, as soon as I’m not around.”
As if hearing his own words suddenly, he looked me up and down.
“You are all better then?”
I ignored this. “So why leave at all then?” I said, my voice still holding a note of accusation. “Did Balidor figure it out during the bombing? Because he didn’t tell me, if so.”
Garensche grimaced. “No.” His voice changed. It grew cold, colder than I’d ever heard it. “No, that dugra-te di aros fucker never knew who I was. That’s not why I left, ilya.”
I winced, shocked at the difference in his face and light.
“Why, then?” I said after a pause. “You were already there. Why pull you?”
The giant seer broke out in another grin, his anger vanishing. “Well, see, truth is, ilya, the boss thinks I watch you a little too closely. I got a bit of yelling, some fist-shaking. He tells me to come back, that he do this himself.”
I snorted, the laugh behind it half incredulity. “Jesus. I hope you’re joking.”
Garensche gave me a mischievous look, quirking a dark eyebrow. “He not really wrong, ilya.” He gestured at the dress I wore. “You look very sexy in that, too, my friend. If he were not around, I would definitely try to ravish you.”
I grinned. “Ravish me, huh?”
“Definitely,” he said, looking down my body again.
He let out a long-suffering sigh.
I burst out in a laugh, smacking him in the chest a second time. “So this whole Esteemed Bridge thing is just out the window again with you?” I said, weirdly refreshed by his complete boorishness. I checked an imaginary watch. “It’s been, what? Thirty seconds? Already I get spoken to like some human you’d like to push into giving you oral favors?”
He grinned. “Would you, if you were?”
“Would I have any choice?” I laughed.
“Of course, Esteemed Bridge!” He winked. “I would ask you what position you wanted after, and give you whichever choice most aroused you.”
I burst out in a laugh again. “Deference, Gar. Def-er-ence. Just who do you think you are speaking with? I can break your spine…” I snapped my fingers in his face. “Just like that.”
“Of course, Esteemed Sister. My profoundest apologies. My deference is in full effect.”
“Right. Such that it is.” Smiling, I hugged him then, feeling my throat close. “Damn. I missed you… you great oaf. Sexist piece of shit that you are.”
“Sexist?” he said, puzzled. “I like sex very much, Esteemed Bridge. Haven’t we established that this is my problem?”
I gave another quick squeeze, then pulled away, grunting another laugh. Even so, I felt another rush of feeling hit me and averted my gaze.
I forced a smile. “You’re hopeless, Garensche.”
He patted my shoulder with one of his giant hands as I looked away, wiping my eyes. I hadn’t let myself think about him much after Delhi. Truthfully, I’d thought he was dead. Or maybe I just hadn’t wanted to know for sure if he was or not.
Same with Chandre, who I’d known even longer.
At the thought, I almost asked him.
Thinking better of it when it occurred to me I wasn’t ready to hear it, if it ended up being bad news, I decided the conversation could wait.
Garensche must have heard me though, or seen Chandre’s image in my light.
“She is with us, too.”
I looked up, flinching. “Chan is?”
His eyes grew apologetic. “She was not there before, like I was, Esteemed Bridge. She came to us after Delhi. She came to him. Sister Chandre has been working with us ever since.”
I nodded, biting my lip. I couldn’t say I was really surprised.
It stung a little, even though I knew it likely wasn’t personal.
Relief hit me an instant later, as the import of his words sank in. She was alive. Chan wasn’t dead. Garensche wasn’t dead. Neither of my two friends had been collateral damage in the bombing. A harder pain in my chest loosened, and I exhaled.
Taking another breath, I nodded.
“Good,” I said. “That’s good. I’m glad she’s all right.”
Garensche studied my eyes, his own holding a faint surprise. “Yes. She is
fine.”
“Is she staying with you? Will I see her, wherever we go?”
“No.” Garensche’s eyes and voice grew cagey. I saw him glance at Tian’anmen Gate again, which seemed to be a proxy for Revik in his absence. “She is… on a mission, Bridge Alyson. In the Americas. It is something the boss wanted. You should ask him about this.”
I nodded, keeping my thoughts around his explanation dim.
“Okay.” I let out another exhale. “But she’s alive. She’s not gone forever.”
“Alive, yes.” Garensche’s smile split his face. “You will see her again, ilya, and in not too long a time. She will be back in a few months, I think. Or we can go to her, maybe.”
I nodded, looking around us.
Fighting to get my equilibrium back, I folded my arms as I took in the line of human soldiers. Turning, I let my light trail over the two rows of armored vehicles painted camouflage colors, feeling the sensors emanating off their organic metal skin. I remembered all the potential eyes on us and shifted my weight, clenching my jaw.
“So what now?” I said. “Do we just wait for him here?”
Garensche took my arm in his thick fingers.
“No. Not here, ilya.” His mouth firmed. “You are right. We should go.”
He led me across the nearest of the five stone bridges that crossed the moat between the entrance to the City and the outside street. We walked directly up to the line of uniformed soldiers, who didn’t spare us so much as a glance.
Passing their lines, we plunged into the crowd of tourists.
For a moment I was surrounded by jostling and pushing humans wearing Beijing and Mao T-shirts, most speaking languages I didn’t know, peering excitedly up at the high red walls behind us, clutching flowers and small baskets of fruit.
None of them looked at me––nor at Garensche, I noticed.
The massive seer waded right in among them, steering me gently with the same hand. I saw him nod to several of the soldiers as we passed, and flinched when a few of them snapped to vertical attention, saluting him smartly.
I glanced up at Garensche, raising an eyebrow.
“A little convenient push is all, ilya,” he said with a wry smile, glancing up and behind us. For the first time, looking back, I noticed the giant portrait of Mao hanging from the outside wall. “…With their consent, of course,” he added.
He led me through the waiting line of humans who stood behind those who’d been milling right in front of the gates. They parted like a sea, again without looking at either of us, or at the elaborate hanfu dress I wore.
That’s when I saw it.
A white, stretch limousine idled at the curb.
A uniformed driver, clearly a seer from her pale orange eyes and the stillness around her light, opened the door for us as we approached, bowing deeply before me.
“Most Holy Bridge,” she murmured, making the formal hand sign.
I nodded, smiling a little tautly before walking past her to climb into the wide leather seat in back. Nerves hit me again as I slid inside. I’d expected it to be empty, but found myself sitting next to Wreg and facing a heavily-muscled young seer I didn’t know, who sat scrunched up in the seat across from me.
Garensche maneuvered his giant body in next to the younger seer, squishing him against the side even further.
Testosterone on parade, was all I could think.
Wreg chuckled, holding a hand up to his face in another of the deferential Bridge gestures, this one belonging to the seers from further south.
“Esteemed Bridge,” he said respectfully. “It is so very good to see you.” He touched my shoulder, cautiously I noted, but almost as if he couldn’t help himself.
I found myself meeting his gaze when I heard the emotion in his voice.
“…You look very beautiful and healthy. I cannot tell you what it does for us, to see you like this. We were all very worried, sister. Very worried indeed.”
I smiled, touched at the sincerity I felt in his words. Laying a hand on his arm in return, I squeezed him affectionately, sending a warm pulse of light.
“Thank you, Wreg,” I said. “I appreciate that. Very much.”
“Is there anything you would like?” he said, motioning towards the bar I could now see beside Garensche. “Something to drink perhaps? Or to eat?”
“A drink would be great…” I started to say, trailing when the door to my right opened abruptly, shedding light on all of us.
Before I could react, Revik slid into the seat next to me, his face hard.
Without looking at me, he turned to the chauffeur, giving her abrupt instructions in a language I didn’t know. She nodded decisively to his words, then shut the door quickly.
Seconds later, I heard her door open in front. The engine’s idle changed as she put the limousine into gear. The car was moving seemingly the instant she had.
I looked at Revik. He didn’t return my gaze.
The car had fallen silent.
“What?” I said to him, trying to get him to look at me. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t turn.
When I caught hold of his arm, he flinched sharply, looking down.
I could only stare when I saw the expression on his face. His anger barely covered what lay below it, a confusion of feeling so intense I couldn’t catalogue it all with my mind. That emotion pulsed out at me, seeming to hit me directly in the chest. My hand tightened on his arm still more, but he extracted it from my fingers.
“Allie… can we talk later?”
My throat closed. “Did you kill him?”
His eyes turned confused, then angrier. “No.”
“Then what is going on?”
“I don’t want to talk about it here,” he said.
“Revik,” I said, fighting the anger in my voice. “Did you kill him?”
He met my gaze, his eyes hard. “You want me to answer that again?” His jaw clenched. “No, I didn’t kill him. Voi Pai wanted him…” His eyes hardened more, flickering down my dress just before they shifted away. “…In more ways than one, it seems. Given that, and your wishes, I made a trade for his life. But I don’t trust her. I don’t trust any of them, if you want the truth.”
He gave me a look that made me think I was probably on that list.
“So what’s wrong?” I said, biting my lip. “Do you regret it now?”
“No,” he growled. “I just don’t know if she’ll hold up her end of the deal… if she’ll give me what she promised.”
“What she promised?” I frowned. “Voi Pai? What did she promise?”
“To honor the trade,” he said.
I bit my lip harder, fighting impatience. “Trade for what, Revik?”
“For Feigran,” he said.
I stared at him. Replaying his words in my head, I felt my confusion worsen.
“Why?” I said. “Why would you even want him?”
“Allie.” His eyes met mine, turning back to one-way mirrors. “I asked if we could speak about this later. Please allow me that. Please.”
I glanced at the others, saw that they were all looking studiously out the windows, as if they couldn’t hear us. Returning my eyes to Revik’s, I found him staring at me again, looking at me with an expression I’d never seen on his face before. His eyes looked lost. He looked like he didn’t know what to say to me, or even what to do with me now that I was there.
Within that confusion, I saw so much distrust in his eyes it made me flinch. He looked at me like he didn’t know me at all, like I was a stranger to him.
I retreated from that look.
A second later, he took my hand, gripping my fingers in his.
“I’m glad you’re here, Allie,” he said.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Are you all right? How do you feel?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
I fought to control my light, shifting my gaze towards the window. Realizing again that we weren’t alone, that he’d already asked me to wait
––twice––I bit my lip, forcing myself silent. He didn’t want to talk around the others. I got that. That was reasonable.
I struggled to focus on buildings I couldn’t really see.
My gaze ran over storefronts while my mind remained elsewhere, blurring over colored umbrellas decorating cafés that sat halfway out on the street. Old buildings with tile roofs and carved wooden gables stood next to glass skyscrapers and high-end coffee bars and outdoor eateries. Above the downtown area, I glimpsed two distinctive, square-shaped towers made of glass. I stared at them for as long as I could see them, feeling a pit form in my stomach when I made out their shapes in the smog-dusted skyline. I’d dreamt about those buildings for years, long before I imagined coming to Asia in the flesh.
Like in America, most people wore headsets. Despite the wash of Asian faces, it all felt shockingly familiar, like waking up and remembering a whole other world. Looking around at all of them, a rush of homesickness hit me, like nothing I’d experienced in months.
I knew without asking that we were heading for the airport.
He squeezed my hand tighter.
His light exuded a sharp pulse of emotion that forced my eyes up. When I met his gaze, he studied mine with equal care. I saw the distrust there still, flavored with a denser, more complex pool of emotion that was nearly on the surface. He looked tired, I realized. The confusion around his light hadn’t dissipated, nor had the anger entirely.
But I knew it was more than any of those things.
I was still trying to understand what I was seeing when he leaned towards me.
He kissed me on the mouth, his lips parting as soon as they met mine. I tensed, then opened to him before I knew I meant to. Putting light into his tongue, he deepened the kiss, sliding an arm around my waist as I leaned up to kiss him back.
My mind flashed to the last time he’d kissed me in a limousine.
His hands tightened on me until they hurt.
He made a sound against my mouth, yanking me deeper into his lap. Pain coiled through me, so intensely I couldn’t see.
He released me a moment later, when I was already halfway out of my body, my arm wrapped around his neck, my fingers in his hair. A few seconds passed of me just sitting in his lap, watching him avoid my eyes, before I remembered where we were. I turned at the thought, glancing around at the others in the car before I let him go, sliding off his legs.
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