Sword

by JC Andrijeski

“His bidding in what?” Revik growled.

  “If she were conducting an infiltration op in being here, for example,” Salinse said, his voice softer still. “If your wife had infiltrated you on the orders of Adhipan Balidor, that could pose a problem for us, yes? Particularly if he had her doing so in an attempt to determine a means of taking our operation down from the inside?”

  The old seer met his gaze, his white eyes reluctant.

  “…Perhaps by converting you, brother Syrimne?”

  Pain hit Revik in the chest, before he could even think through the Sark’s words. It hurt him badly enough that for a few minutes, he couldn’t see the fire in front of him. Tears blinded him, coming too fast for him to be able to pull himself together.

  But his mind lagged way behind the emotion that rose in him.

  He couldn’t actually think anything about what had been said. He couldn’t think much of anything at all. Pain obliterated all of it. The construct writhed over him, but that only seemed to be illuminating the truth even more sharply––a truth he’d sensed maybe, but couldn’t bring himself to face.

  Pain, exhaustion, a nearly childlike hurt reached him, wrapped in a realization that he’d known somehow. He’d known something was wrong, that there was something she wasn’t telling him.

  He sat there, letting the tears run down his face.

  Before he could even see Salinse’s gaunt, hard-boned features, the old seer moved to the bench beside him. He gripped Revik’s arm, sending a dense pulse of light through his aleimi. It was so strong it briefly stabilized Revik’s mind.

  “Nephew,” he said softly, clicking in distress. “I am not saying I have actual knowledge of this. I am not saying that. Please do not misunderstand.”

  Revik’s words came out thick. “You suspect it.”

  “I wish us to speak of it, yes. I wish us to try and reach her, before it is too late.”

  “You think she is loyal to him?”

  Salinse sighed, releasing his arm. For a moment, the only sound was the wood popping in the flames, letting off a fine shower of sparks.

  “I have wondered this, yes,” Salinse said, his voice reluctant. “There are inconsistencies in her light, nephew.” Pausing a bit longer, he added, his voice holding regret, “I have felt the Adhipan leader in some of these… anomalies. Marks that he has trained her in this… in some deep shielding skill. Something beyond the type of shielding you are aware of.”

  Revik didn’t move.

  For a long moment, nothing seemed to penetrate his mind at all.

  Then he nodded, still staring into the fire. Wiping his eyes, he nodded again, folding his arms tighter across his chest.

  “What do you want me to do?” he said.

  Salinse purred, a bare clicking sound.

  “I want you to ask her, nephew,” he said gently. “I want you to ask her, and to offer her the choice.” He patted the Elaerian’s arm affectionately. “She may surprise you yet, brother Syrimne. She may indeed. Whatever she told herself she was doing here at the outset, I have all confidence that you are affecting her deeply, nephew.”

  Revik shook his head, his jaw hard once more, but the old seer cut him off.

  “Give her a chance, nephew,” he said, soft. “She wants a reason to stay. She wants it more than anything, I suspect. Give her one.”

  “How?” Revik said.

  Salinse pressed a finger to his lips, thoughtful. “There is no need to make accusations. Not now. Not until we know where she stands.” The old seer purred softer, stroking his arm. “Ask her what she wants. Offer her alternatives to being the puppet of the Adhipan and the Seven. Beijing was a long time ago, brother Syrimne. You have known her far longer than she has him, whatever his talents. Whatever lies and doctrine he has sold her on…”

  Anger touched the last of his words, before he looked at Revik.

  “She belongs to you, Nenzi,” he said, softer. “Things will end with the two of you…” He quoted, “…Whatever twists and turns may break their paths, forcing them to rejoin.”

  Thinking about this, Revik wiped his face. Feeling his throat close again briefly, he forced out an exhale, letting the hardness in his chest relax, if only a little.

  He nodded then, glancing at the old seer.

  “Yes.” Nodding again, he wiped his eyes as the old man patted his back. “Yes,” he repeated. “Okay. I can do that.”

  The old man just sat there with him, holding his arm firmly in his bone-like fingers.

  44

  HONESTY

  SOMETHING WAS WRONG. I could feel it in every part of my light. It vibrated at me like a soft warning, so far up in that white column that lived above my head, I could barely hear it.

  A soft pulse of warning.

  Warm, filled with heart and compassion.

  Concern lived there; it reminded me of Vash.

  Thinking of him brought up a fresh wave of grief, though. I missed him. I missed all of them. As much as I was growing attached to the seers here, the metallic strands of the construct weren’t the same as that high white light that lived around the Seven and especially around Vash himself. I could feel the difference more each day––more, seemingly, since that night in the common room. Having all of them in me touched me, too, but it wasn’t the same.

  It also weighed me down even more in the metal strands of that silver light.

  They were all committed to the cause.

  Each and every one of them had pledged themselves to Syrimne, but––more importantly to me––they’d pledged themselves to Salinse, and by extension, the Dreng.

  I needed to get out of there, I realized in a kind of panic.

  I needed to get us both out, and soon, before—

  “What are you thinking about, wife?” he said.

  Hesitating, I met his gaze. Seeing the scrutiny there, barely masked by the smile at his lips, I tensed. I contemplated different answers I could give, then threw them all out and just told him the truth. More or less.

  “Revik, honestly, I just don’t think Salinse likes me very much,” I said. “I’m worried it’s going to affect how you see me. I know he’s important to you.”

  Revik’s eyes grew openly startled.

  Then I could see him thinking, putting this together with something else in his mind.

  “You think Salinse doesn’t like you?” he said.

  “I don’t know.” I exhaled. “Yes. I guess I do.” I felt my worry ratchet higher as I wondered if I should have kept my mouth shut. “It’s just a feeling. He was really nice to me when I met him. Maybe he thinks I’m not religious enough or something.”

  I felt hesitation on him.

  Then, in the same instant, I felt him drop it.

  Even so, before he did, a pulse of anger left his light. I realized in some surprise it wasn’t aimed at me. Was he pissed at Salinse for pushing at me in the construct? Had he felt it, too? At the thought, I felt a brief elation.

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Revik wouldn’t side with him against me.

  Seeing Revik glance at me at this, I blushed.

  He clicked at me softly. “Don’t be dumb, wife.”

  “I love you.” I felt my throat tighten. “More than anything.”

  He grinned, but I felt that startle him, too. It touched him as well, but he swept it from his expression, so quickly I almost questioned if I’d seen it.

  He’d been so strange lately. He hid it well, but it scared the hell out of me.

  We were in the sparring ring on the ground floor of the main hangar. I’d finally talked him into letting me try against him, but so far, I could tell he was mostly giving me the match, and using it as a training tool, if not exactly an excuse to get some exercise.

  He stepped around me easily as I thought it. I saw his eyes watching me, gauging the way my body moved, as if memorizing it with his light.

  “Okay,” I said, lightening my voice. I bounced back and forth on my toes. “Since we’re being confessional, are you going to te
ll me what’s been on your mind that you’re not telling me?” Seeing his skin darken slightly, I smiled. “Come on. You’ve wanted to say something to me for days. Stop stalling and just say it.”

  He pointed at my left hand.

  “You have a nervous tic,” he said, gesturing. “You drop that, right before you go for me. Watch that, Allie.”

  I smiled, but felt myself flush a little. I had meant to try again.

  So far, I’d only managed to hit him once.

  His smile turned playful again. “What is this obsession of yours, to beat me up? Is there something you’re not telling me, wife?”

  “Not beat you up,” I clarified. “It’s like chess. I want to be able to hold my own. And quit dodging the question.”

  He moved in without warning, sliding to my left to sweep my leg. I moved around him. When he got close enough, I threw a right hook at his ribs.

  He moved his body easily a few inches, slipping out of the way.

  He was so damned fast. It was maddening.

  He grinned. “You just need to get beat up a few more times.”

  “How many?” I said.

  “To match my childhood?” he said. “About 300… at least.”

  I flinched, even as images briefly swam before my eyes, things I’d seen about his early life in Tarsi’s cave. I realized a few seconds later that he’d been referencing the street fighting thing, but not before I remembered the years that had preceded those. I tried to push a few of the more vivid images from my mind, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. He noticed the change in me and paused, his eyes flickering a little as he read a few flashes off my light.

  “You saw some of that?”

  I nodded. “I told you Tarsi had me do research on Syrimne.”

  “I know. But how old?”

  I hesitated again. At the intent look in his eyes, I finally shrugged. “Maybe fifteen. Not younger than twelve. Nothing until after Menlim had you.”

  He nodded. His smile grew taut. “I was a runt back then.”

  “You were cute,” I said, feeling a sudden swell of emotion. “Cute as hell, actually. You weren’t that much smaller than the others.”

  “I was a mouthy little shit.”

  “Not from what I saw.”

  He smiled, shaking his head. “You must love me, wife.”

  He darted in again, getting behind me before I could catch him in a front kick. I immediately kicked out again, pivoting my weight to reach for him as he circled behind me. I only caught him with part of my foot, on the thigh. It slid right off him before I could fully connect. He pointed at my hand again, circling around me.

  He hadn’t even broken a sweat, I noticed.

  “You’re still dropping that…” he said.

  “Can you stop teaching for one minute?” I said. “You’re not even trying.”

  “Unlike you, the idea of hitting my spouse doesn’t actually appeal to me.”

  “If I was any good, you wouldn’t be saying that,” I said. “You love to fight. I’ve seen it. You’re just bored with me.”

  He shrugged a little with one hand, but didn’t argue.

  “I still don’t want to hurt you, Allie.”

  I slid under his arm the next time he moved forward and got him in a solid kick to the thigh. He grinned a little at the impact, and for a moment we exchanged blows. I managed to block most of his hits, until he pushed me back with a precise kick to the middle of my body, below my solar plexus. I stumbled, nearly falling.

  “Are you going to tell me?” I said, panting. “Whatever it is?”

  He darted around me and I turned, getting him once, solidly in the ribs.

  “Did you just give me that?” I said. “Really, husband?”

  He smiled again. I couldn’t read the smile, whether it meant he’d given me the hit or not, and rolled my eyes.

  “More diversion, huh? So I guess I’m going to have to spend another day guessing what’s on your mind?”

  He smiled, but I saw the seriousness in his eyes again.

  “There is something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” he said. “Since the Registry job, actually.”

  I smiled. “So? Out with it.”

  “It’s been five months, Allie.”

  I felt myself tense a little, falling out of stance.

  He hesitated, looking suddenly unsure. Lowering his hands, he fell out of stance, too.

  “Can we do this somewhere else, Allie?” he said.

  I felt the vulnerability on his light. His clear eyes were serious, even a bit nervous. They flickered over me briefly, then across the rest of the hangar.

  I followed his gaze, saw Garensche and a few others talking, probably running drills of some kind, prepping for the next op, whatever it was. I could feel something in the works, but I hadn’t yet gotten up the courage to ask. Truthfully, I hoped it was that slave camp in Manaus, which hadn’t been one of the ones to fall after the Registry job.

  Still, no one was paying attention to us. We were pretty much alone.

  “I was going to offer to make you dinner,” Revik said. “Maybe we could talk then, in the room. Or somewhere else, if you’d prefer.”

  I smiled. “I thought you couldn’t cook?”

  “I can manage, under duress.” He smiled. “I won’t poison you. Promise.”

  I winced, remembering the last time he’d said that to me. It had been at the cabin in the Himalayas, the first night we were there.

  “Okay.” My nerves worsened. “Revik. Whatever it is—”

  “All right.” I felt him give in, right before he held up a hand. “…All right. We’ll talk now. We’ll start, okay?” He gestured towards my face. “I can tell I’ve already said too much. I’m trying to not make a mess of this, Allie. I shouldn’t have let you goad me into it before I was ready.”

  Surprised by the emotion I could hear in his voice, I straightened entirely out of stance.

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m sorry. We can wait… really, we can. It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s all right. It’s not you, Allie. I’m mad at myself.”

  When he looked out over the hangar again, I watched his face minutely, nearly holding my breath. I couldn’t quite read him, and it was making me nervous. Truthfully, I’d been nervous around him ever since that morning after the night in the common room.

  Something had been wrong with him since then, but he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, not since he’d gone to see Salinse.

  When he turned, I watched him study my face with equal care.

  I’d been waiting for this, I realized. Since that morning I’d woken up to find him so angry at me, I’d been waiting for “the talk” to happen. But, looking at him now, I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. For that matter, I couldn’t tell if he was, either.

  Still, I’d thought I’d known what he was going to say. So when he finally spoke, he threw me off balance, I admit.

  “Allie,” he said. “What is it going to take to get you to stay?”

  I blinked, fighting to keep my expression still.

  “What?” I said.

  He smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. The intensity there grew more and more unnerving.

  “The question was pretty clear,” he said. “And forget the Salinse stuff. Don’t use that as your excuse, please.” Hesitating, he continued to gauge my face. “What do you want from me, Allie? What would I need to do, for you to stay with me?”

  Again I stared at him, at a loss.

  “Have I said I’m leaving?” I said. “What makes you think you need to do anything?”

  His eyes narrowed. I felt my nerves rise when he scanned my light overtly, then focused back on my face.

  “Allie, you’re not acting like someone who’s staying,” he said. “You haven’t since you got here. You act like someone who’s on a temporary pass.”

  “A temporary pass?” It hit me suddenly that I was repeating half of his words back at him. I heard nerves in my voice. “Revik, jesus—”


  “You know what I mean.” His jaw tightened. “What do you want from me? Or is it not something I can fix, in your eyes?”

  When I just stood there, staring at him, he looked away. I saw emotion color his face, and had to fight not to react when his eyes returned to mine. His gaze grew intense again, and it struck me suddenly that those were almost tears in his eyes.

  Closing the gap between us, he stood in front of me.

  His voice softened as he caressed my cheek with his fingers.

  “Allie, please. Please. I can feel you pulling away from me. I don’t know if it’s Salinse, or what happened in Brazil…”

  I shook my head, feeling my throat close. “Revik, no. I’m not.”

  “I don’t know if I can handle us being apart,” he said. “Not after this. I’m willing to compromise a lot. Probably a lot more than you realize, wife. I’m willing to do just about anything to get you to stay.”

  Pain wound through my light.

  I couldn’t hide it from him. I closed my eyes, willing it to go before I tried to answer. It only seemed to get worse, though. My mind went places I hadn’t let it go in weeks, even before we started planning for the trip to São Paolo.

  Even before I’d seen him in that square in Beijing.

  “Allie.” He laid a hand on my arm, tugging me closer to him, his voice soft. “What if I put you in charge? What if you made all the decisions about what we did or didn’t do?”

  I stared at him. I’m sure my shock showed on my face.

  He gestured at the others in the hangar. “They wouldn’t mind. Hell, they’re probably expecting it. You would have control over the construct. No one could fuck with you in it, I promise.” He caressed my cheek. “Allie, I know you don’t believe in the Myth… but they do. They expect the Bridge to lead them. They expect me to do as you say.”

  I continued to stare at him, still sure I wasn’t hearing him right.

  “The ban would be permanent then,” he said. “All the missions would go through you… means and ends. I’d work for you, Allie.”

  “Revik.” I stared at him, at a loss. “Are you talking about combining operations?”

  He hesitated. Then he shook his head, clicking softly.

  “They won’t acknowledge the authority of the Seven here, Allie.” His jaw tightened, enough to push out his cheek. “…Or the Adhipan. It’s too late for that.”