The air felt colder within minutes, and thinner.
After we’d been walking another hour, I struggled a bit to breathe and stopped to rest.
Laying a hand on a tree beside the path, I looked down at the zig-zagging trail roping below, half-obscured again by trees. I saw someone on the trail then and froze, just before the figure disappeared.
“Revik,” I said quietly.
From behind, he touched my shoulder, almost tentatively.
“Adhipan,” he said. “Females only.”
I glanced up, but he didn’t return my gaze. My eyes drifted to the bruise on his face. “So much for being alone, I guess.” I tried to mask my bitterness with humor, but didn’t succeed. “I’m amazed they’re bothering to be sneaky.”
Revik touched me again. Again, his hand didn’t linger.
“They won’t be able to see us where we’re going,” he said. “Balidor promised me. They’re only escorting us there, then they’ll leave… monitor the construct from afar.”
I nodded, but didn’t quite believe it.
Seers could lie as well as human beings. Better, I’d learned, especially when the truth interfered with their warped sense of “duty.” Funny how everyone was so concerned with me now. Where was all that overbearing male concern when Maygar decided to do his wacky claim thing… and in full view of the entire compound?
My anger deflated when I saw Revik’s eyes brighten.
It shocked me, even with what I’d felt off him before. I had to look at him twice, and even then I couldn’t make up my mind if I was right. His light closed, and I watched him, disbelieving as he wiped his face with the back of his hand, avoiding my stare.
Seers weren’t human, I reminded myself.
The men had zero stigma around getting openly emotional. Actually dangerously emotional. Tightening my fingers in his, I tugged on his hand. He still wouldn’t look at me.
“Hey,” I said.
“Allie.” His voice was thick. “The Maygar thing…”
I shook my head. “No, Revik… please. Please don’t.” Feeling him tense, I shook my head again. “It’s not you. I swear it’s not. I just don’t see any point in talking about it. It happened. It’s done.” When his face tightened, I tugged on his fingers. “Look. Everything came out okay. More or less.”
He still wouldn’t look at me.
I quieted my voice.
“Please, baby.”
I felt him react to the endearment, glancing at me.
I caressed his fingers, feeling that ripple through his light, too. “I already yelled at Chandre, blamed you, blamed myself. I don’t have the energy to do it all again. We’re good. Aren’t we?”
His jaw hardened, but he gestured a “yes.” He looked like he wanted to say something anyway, but feeling me push back against his light, he didn’t.
We didn’t talk again for a few hours.
By then, we were on a high plateau.
A long, grassy field spread out before us. White-capped mountains stood on all sides. The view before me of low-seeming clouds and the strangely polarized, blue-white sun brought a chill to my spine.
Feeling suddenly like I’d stumbled into one of my dreams, I slowed my steps, my breath a little short. I glanced around at the wildflowers dotting the thigh-high grasses, feeling the sense of familiarity like a physical blow. It could have been that same field, from the jump with Tarsi.
What were we doing here, anyway? Was there an airstrip nearby?
The sky was darkening. When Revik tugged lightly on my hand, his fingers questioning, I followed. We walked through the thigh-high grass without talking, until we reached the top of a small rise.
Below, a fence ringed one portion of the field. It delineated the edges of a mown space around a low ranch house with a tile roof.
“Here?” I said, looking up at him. “You want to talk here?”
Revik nodded. He glanced up at the sky, like I had. I don’t know if he noticed the look of bewilderment on my face or not.
“I bought it,” he said. “We needed to modify the construct pretty extensively. It was easier to buy it, then we could rework the whole thing.” He hesitated, studying my face. “The house is pretty simple, Allie.”
I nodded, looking up at the mountains, but my mind was clunking and jerking disjointedly into its own gears, trying to chew through this new information, and the information he’d just piled on top of it.
He’d bought it? And how could this possibly be a good idea, the two of us alone up here? I’d assumed we were heading towards a town… or an airstrip. When he’d said we’d be alone, I’d pictured us going to Delhi, maybe even Europe.
Separate hotel rooms. That kind of thing.
Keeping my light tightly shielded, I let go of his hand to walk down the hill, wading through the tall grasses. In almost no time, I reached the gated fence.
Entering through the opening across from the cabin’s door, I strode in a rough circle around the lawn-like clearing, and its ring of packed dirt around the house itself.
I knew I was stalling; I felt myself gathering imprints as well. I felt traces of the old human who had lived there before. He felt like a nice man. I saw hoof prints, what looked like at least one dog’s. He’d had grandchildren. I wondered if he’d gone to live with them. There was an old-fashioned water pump, and a trough.
Revik followed me.
It occurred to me he was watching my reactions minutely.
“It’s beautiful up here,” I said, and I meant it.
I followed with my eyes as wind rippled the grasses outside the fence. New, sharp green shoots dusted with wildflowers turned the plateau into a mosaic. A tall windmill, the old-fashioned wooden kind I liked from when I was a kid, stood behind the house, spinning evenly in a higher breeze. Beyond it, I saw what looked like horses grazing on the slope. They stood not far from a river.
“You own the horses, too?” I said.
“Yes.”
“And the river?”
Revik gave a short laugh, making a seer’s “more or less” gesture with one hand.
“Enough of it,” he said.
“I’m starving,” I said, looking at him again. “Is there food?”
He made a hospitable gesture towards the front door.
I followed the motion of his hand, walking in front of him. He hung back as I reached for the handle.
It wasn’t locked.
Twisting it all the way, I opened the door.
I’d expected something western, I guess, from the horses and the windmill. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw colorful wooden furniture like you might find in a Tibetan home. It had been cleaned recently, maybe even re-furnished. Thick rugs covered a flagstone floor, all the way up to the fireplace, which stood near a dining area and a heavy wooden table, also brightly painted. Behind that, I was surprised to see a real kitchen with a gas stove, a full-sized refrigerator and a sink, more brightly colored cabinets and a woodblock cutting board in the middle. I wondered what powered the electricity.
“A combination,” Revik said from behind me. “Solar and wind. There’s a fair bit up here. The generator kicks into oil when it gets low. That’s mostly for the winter.”
I glanced back to where he stood by the door. He was watching me again. He motioned towards another door, which led to a shadow-darkened back area.
“Take a shower if you want,” he said. “I’ll do something about food.”
“You don’t have to,” I began.
“Just go, Allie.” He quirked an eyebrow. “I won’t poison you. Promise.”
I laughed. When he smiled, I headed for the back room. Right before the door, I stopped, remembering I hadn’t brought anything with me.
He must have felt that too.
He paused on his way to the kitchen.
“I had Cass pick out clothes,” he said. He rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed by my surprise. “I didn’t look, but there should be things in the closet. They did
all of that in the last week.” He met my gaze. “When I got back, Allie.”
Hesitating only a second more, I nodded, trying to relax.
I didn’t miss the opening he’d left me, in telling me he’d been gone, but his words raised a whole host of other questions, too.
I entered the darkened room, still a little thrown that he’d involved Cass.
Shutting the door, I faced the dim space, trying to get my bearings.
The room itself was pretty simple. A large wardrobe made of wood and painted in bright colors, Tibetan style, stood in one corner, across from a heavily curtained window. A door to a small bathroom stood to the left of that. In there, too, the floor had been covered in thick wool rugs, and I saw candles on a wooden shelf over the bed.
I was still looking around, trying to collect myself, when something else occurred to me.
There was only one bed.
24
PROPOSAL
I WAS STARING into the fire when, a few hours later, Revik emerged from the bedroom, letting out a dispersing cloud of steam.
We’d finished eating. I was still at the table, one leg drawn up to where my arm circled my shin, holding my foot on the seat of a wooden chair.
Revik had surprised me, by being able to cook at all I guess. What he made definitely fit the “unusual” camp, in terms of a human/western palate, but it had been good––some kind of mango curry thing with nuts and spinach and a few things I couldn’t identify.
I knew it was seer food from the way he ate it.
When I did the same, the textures grew even more subtle. In fact, they did so well past my tongue, creating a warm flow in my light from my throat down to my thighs.
Just when I’d started to wonder if maybe there was an ulterior motive for all of this after all, he disappeared into the other room without a word. I heard the shower start up a few minutes later and sighed, settling myself in to wait.
Now I gave him a fleeting smile as he sat down in the wooden chair he’d vacated before, directly across the table from me.
He returned my smile, leaning back and running a hand through his wet hair. He’d shaved I noticed, and wore clean clothes, a loose shirt that was almost Chinese in cut with those rope-like, knotted fasteners, and jeans. From Cass's pile for me, I’d found a silk kimono, black with a gold bird on the back.
I wore it all through dinner. It was long, embroidered and hardly revealing, but now, glancing under the table at his jeans, I wondered if maybe I’d been pushing it.
He reached into a pocket and produced a hiri, which I’d never seen him smoke, although I’d smelled it on him more than once on the ship. He lit it with a wooden match, which he shook out and left on his plate.
I considered asking him for one as well, then decided I hadn’t quit smoking like a human only to start as a seer. When I glanced up, he was watching me through a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke.
“Does it bother you?” he said.
“No,” I said. I was telling the truth. Unlike human cigarettes, hiri smoke actually smelled good.
He looked at the end of the hiri, then at me.
Leaning my arm on the table, I tried, unsuccessfully, to blank out my mind. I had nothing to say, really, but I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.
I wasn’t up to talking about the war… or even asking where he’d been for the last few weeks, or about the limp I’d noticed again as he crossed the room. I wasn’t ready to think about tomorrow yet, much less that night. I didn’t really want to know details about what was going on at the compound, or how long we had before someone made us go back there. The very last thing I wanted to do was revisit our aborted conversation about Maygar. I didn’t want to try to make small talk, either, which both of us completely sucked at.
I didn’t want to talk at all, when it came down to it.
I wasn’t sure where that left us, though.
“Do you want to sleep?” he said.
Before I’d thought about why, something in my chest constricted. I fought it, keeping it out of my light, or at least away from where he could see it.
“Sure,” I said. Without my willing it, my eyes flickered towards the bedroom. “You can go ahead, if you want.”
I focused on the bruise on his face, then looked away.
When the silence stretched, I glanced around us surreptitiously. There was a low couch with a stack of thick blankets on one end, and a pile of pillows on the other. I tried to decide if I should just come out and ask him.
He rose to his feet, grinding out the hiri.
I held my breath, thinking he was going to disappear into the bedroom again, leaving me even more lost as to what I should do.
But he didn’t.
He walked around the table. I didn’t look up as he sank to the chair beside mine, moving it closer with his feet so that our knees touched.
He took my hands in his, and I stared down at our fingers. His knuckles were still bruised, but the marks had faded.
“Allie,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
Removing one hand from his, I pushed back my hair, and was horrified to realize I was crying. I wiped my eyes, smiling in embarrassment… and more than a little bewilderment. I wiped my face again.
“Wow,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I clutched his hand where his fingers wound around mine. “Is this that irrational thing you warned me about?”
He moved closer. “Yes,” he said, soft.
I couldn’t bring myself to return his gaze.
I remembered how he’d felt all those days I’d been at Tarsi’s. He hadn’t come for me, or even asked about me, for almost three weeks. He’d avoided me in the Barrier. As I sat there, I realized how much I didn’t want to talk to him about that, either.
When I started to get up, he caught my arms, holding me in place.
“Allie.” His voice held an edge of panic, and it brought my eyes to his. “What am I doing wrong? Tell me.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong, Revik. I’m just tired, I––”
“Allie!” His light hit at mine, forcing a gasp from my lips. He pulled me closer. “You said to let it go, so I did! Are you angry at me?”
“No.” Biting my lip, I held his gaze with an effort, shaking my head. “I’m not angry. I swear I’m not, Revik.”
He just looked at me, his light eyes showing incomprehension.
Pain circulated in my light veins. I realized part of it was from my light interacting with his. I ended up bunching my hands into fists, focusing on our fingers, the differences between our hands… in size, in skin color.
Shaking my head, I took a breath.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just don’t understand. This seems like a bad idea, us alone up here.” I looked around the fire-lit room, feeling my skin warm. “What are we doing here?”
Understanding reached him.
I felt it click in; then his mind whispered past mine, remembering that morning in Seertown. As he did, his pain slivered through me, and I winced, pulling away from his light. I felt him react to that, too.
Staring at the fire, I was trying to decide how to get out of this awkward mess, when his hand slid into my hair.
“Allie.” His voice was soft again. “Allie. You’re so beautiful.”
He kissed my face. My skin warmed.
Disbelief hit as his words sank in, and he kissed me again, caressing my cheek with his. He’d never complimented me before. Not my looks, anyway. Come to think of it, he hadn’t complimented much of anything about me.
He wasn’t really the complimenting type.
“I wanted to come earlier,” he said. “I wanted to.” His fingers stroked mine. “I had hoped you would ask for me. I waited, Allie. As long as I could.”
Before I had time to think about that, he kissed my face again, leaning across the space between us. He leaned closer when I let him into my light, resting his head on my shoulder, caressing my hands. Everything about him was warm, merging into me, into my skin. His l
ight was more open than I’d ever felt it.
I honestly had no idea what to do with him like this.
He raised his head, looking at me.
“Thank you,” he said. “For the ring.”
My skin flushed more.
“You don’t have to wear it,” I said. But I fingered it on his hand anyway, stroking the inside of his wrist when he moved it deeper into my lap.
I looked up, feeling him pull at me.
His eyes were intense in that way that was foreign to me still. When I caressed his fingers, looking again at the one with my father’s ring, his pain ribboned out at me again. I felt more of him in it that time, a flood of feeling that slid deeper into my light.
After the barest pause, he leaned towards my mouth.
Seeing where he was going, I touched his chest, pushing him back gently.
“No.” Moving my head aside, I shook my head, fighting a little for breath. “No,” I said. “I need more than that. You need to tell me… something.”
His eyes glowed faintly with firelight. He closed them, longer than a blink.
He leaned back in his chair.
“All right.” For a moment, he didn’t speak, caressing my fingers with his. I watched his eyes, saw their focus aim inward before he looked up, turning them back on me. “Allie.” He took a breath. “Allie, I wanted to…” I felt him form words before he spoke, as if translating. “I wanted to request, formally…”
His mouth hardened, just before he shrugged.
“I suppose you’d view it as a proposal,” he said, more in his normal voice. “I want to consummate. Tonight, if you’re willing.”
I was positive I hadn’t heard him right.
At the same time, pain tried to infiltrate my light, making it hard to replay his words in my head. I almost couldn’t hear him when he spoke next.
“…It’s an open offer, Allie.” His face darkened slightly as he studied mine. “I know this isn’t very, well…” He gestured vaguely with one hand.
Shield (Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #2): Bridge & Sword World Page 23
