by Anthology
Turning his back on Jon as he fastened the last few buttons on his shirt, he tucked it in quickly then walked directly to Cass.
He only stood over her long enough to bend his knees.
Deciding he didn’t give a shit about that either, he kissed her, hard, on the mouth, using his tongue. She kissed him back, but he felt the plume of surprise off her, right before it turned into pain. Then she was pulling on him, her hands wrapped around his jaw and face, even in the cuffs.
He pulled away from her a few seconds later...but reluctantly.
“Do you want me to bring you anything?” he said, low enough that he hoped Jon and Maygar wouldn’t hear. He didn’t give a damn, not really...but he also couldn’t see how it was any of their goddamned business.
Surprise wafted off her again.
Quirking an eyebrow, she gave him a small smile. “Like what?”
He shrugged. “Cake?”
She laughed, tugging on his hair. He started to straighten but she pulled him back, gripping his hair tighter as she slid up to a taller kneel, kissing him again.
That kiss lasted longer.
When it finally ended, Balidor was hard again. Even so, he could feel from flickers of Jon’s light that he really needed to go.
He didn’t say anything more to her before he regained his feet.
Instead he faced Jon, stuffing his hands in his pockets. It wasn’t a usual gesture for him, it’s true, but under the circumstances, it made sense.
He saw Jon notice that too.
Ignoring the incredulity edging back into anger he saw on the other man’s face, Balidor gave him a flat-eyed stare.
“I’m ready....since you’re so fucking intent on providing me an escort.”
Maygar let out another amused grunt.
When Balidor glanced at him, he didn’t see any judgement in the other seer’s eyes. Maygar only rolled them at Balidor subtly, giving him a faint grin.
So apparently, Maygar wasn’t surprised by this development.
The younger seer snorted again, right before he sent words directly to Balidor’s mind.
You haven’t exactly been subtle, Adhipan... he said softly through his light. Don’t act so surprised that I’m relieved you finally did something about it. Pausing, he gave Balidor another faint smirk. If I were you, I’d wipe that, ‘I finally got properly fucked’ look off your face though. Jon’s not going to react to it well right now...
There was a pause where Maygar seemed to be thinking about his own words.
His thoughts grew darker when he added,
...Allie and Revik probably won’t react to it well, either...not if they put two and two together. They know you’ve been fighting a lot with Yarli, even if they don’t know the extent of it. Yarli might be at the party anyway. So maybe tone it down a bit before we get there?
Meeting the other male’s gaze, Balidor let out a clicking sort of sigh.
Understood, he sent, equally quiet.
He did, too.
5
Party Favors
Yarli wasn’t at the party though, to Balidor’s profound relief.
He felt slightly guilty at the thought, but it was what it was. If she’d noticed the change in his light and decided to make a public scene about it, things could have gotten ugly.
As it was, it was relatively easy for him to keep a low profile.
He felt guilty a second time when Allie noticed how quiet he was, however, and tried to draw him into things with the rest of them. Particularly since he could tell that it was at least partly because she knew he and Yarli were having problems.
He didn’t know why he hadn’t told them he wasn’t with Yarli anymore.
Regardless, he enjoyed himself at the party, if in an odd sort of way.
They’d decorated a tree with ornaments and homemade tinsel made of what looked like shredded heat-shielding. The tinsel fluttered in the wind on the shadowed side of the deck, where they’d sectioned off part of the landing strip near the main control tower.
They’d even set up a few banquet tables complete with white linen tablecloths and real silverware. Place settings of ribbons and cut flowers broke up the platters of food at regular intervals on a red table runner. The flowers must have come from the same barge as the living Christmas tree, which had been weighted down with a stand bolted to the deck. A tub of wet earth kept it a few feet higher than most Christmas trees Balidor had seen, but it was beautiful and probably four meters tall.
Someone even scrounged up Christmas crackers, or made them by hand...possibly even Revik since he’d lived in England long enough to be attached to the custom.
Playing tug of war with Christmas crackers made all of them laugh.
In addition to the customary paper hat––which Revik demanded Balidor put on his head, making him laugh for real––Balidor found a small wooden puzzle and a ring in his cracker, both of which he promptly gave to Lily. The ring consisted of cut purple glass and a copper band and Lily stared at it for a long time after he gave it to her.
Each of the crackers had jokes inside them too, most of them dirty, which lent credence to his theory that the crackers had been made by someone on the team. Everyone at the table had to read their jokes aloud before eating...all except Allie, who sat with Lily on her lap, her hands clamped firmly over the little girl’s ears.
Balidor lingered in the background for the actual opening of presents.
He saw Allie give her husband an old-fashioned watch, presumably to replace the one he’d broken in Dubai. Balidor looked away with everyone else when Revik kissed her in thanks.
Not long after, while a few ex-rebels sat under the tree, acting like slightly drunk Santa Clauses, Balidor found Allie staring at him, standing not far from where he stood. When Balidor glanced around for Revik, he saw the other seer sitting on the sunny part of the deck with Lily on his shoulders, pointing at something on the ocean’s horizon.
Balidor looked back at Allie and smiled, if only to get that scrutiny out of her eyes.
It didn’t work. Instead, she walked closer to him, until they stood next to one another.
“You okay, ‘Dor?” she said, knocking into him with her shoulder.
He folded his arms, conscious suddenly of how much Cass he had in his light.
“I’m fine,” he said, smiling.
When he glanced at her, she was staring at him again, her jade green eyes puzzled.
“You seem...different,” she said.
He gave a low snort. “Maybe it’s not me who is different, Esteemed Bridge,” he said with a wan smile. “Or do you need a distraction from your own and your husband’s lights so badly that you’re willing to find needles inside the haystack of mine?”
She blinked, then frowned slightly.
He definitely got the sense she knew she was being dodged.
She seemed to be willing to let it go however.
Not long after that, it was his turn at the gift line.
He was surprised...and touched, truthfully...that he had presents under that tree as well. In addition to gifts from some of his subordinates and friends in the Adhipan, from Jon and even a few among the ex-rebels, Maygar gave him a book of poetry, something Balidor couldn’t explain how the young seer could possibly have known he wanted. It was an old volume, filled with verses from a seer poet who’d died while Balidor was a child.
How the young seer could have known...
He glanced at Maygar as the other gave it to him, and the dark eyes smiled.
It came up in the transcripts, Maygar explained. With Cass. I found it on the storage freighter and remembered. Pausing, he added more softly still, Something to read to her perhaps...? In the off moment?
Balidor actually blushed.
A lot of the poems he remembered from his youth had been of an erotic nature. He hoped he managed to hide the blush, and figured he had from everyone but Maygar himself. By then, the sun had reached their part of the deck, making everyone’s faces a litt
le red.
He nodded his thanks, managing a few mumbled words before Allie laughingly thrust a large, wrapped box into his hands from her and Revik.
It turned out to be an altar that Revik had made and that Allie had painted.
Balidor had no idea when they had done it, given that Revik had only been out of the infirmary for a few days, but it was well made, fashioned out of a dark, heavy wood. All of the images and writing looked correct in terms of placement, so either Revik had known how to construct an old-school altar or they had consulted with one of the elders.
Either way, their gift touched him, too.
It occurred to him he’d not gotten a present for anyone.
Well. That wasn’t entirely true.
He had arranged for one present.
At the thought, he found himself suppressing a flicker of pain, hoping no one felt that, either. Trying to force her out of his mind, much less the memory of the night before, only helped marginally. The truth was, he could feel her, even now.
He knew believing that wasn’t rational. He couldn’t possibly feel her. She was inside the tank...cut off from the Barrier and from him. Even so, the certainty was hard to shake.
At the thought, he felt eyes on him and turned.
It was Tarsi who stared at him now.
Tarsi, who had been his first teacher in the Pamir, who trained him after they recruited him out of that shithole in China where he’d lived with his father.
He’d forgotten Tarsi was here.
Even as he thought it, guilt flushed his face hotter a second time. If anyone would know what he’d been up to over the past few months, it was Tarsi. He’d deliberately kept her away from the tanks for that reason, knowing she would see it on him, whether he acted on it or not. She would definitely see it on him now that he had acted on it.
When he met her gaze, he found that suspicion confirmed.
Her expression startled him however, once he let himself see her past his own defensiveness. Like Maygar, she didn’t look disgusted...or angry. He didn’t see a warning or disapproval on her aged face. Instead––also like Maygar––the shine in her colorless irises looked mostly amused.
Even compassionate.
He was still staring at her, fighting an urge to frown––or maybe to tell her to mind her own damned business since he wasn’t her student anymore, much less that child she’d dug out of a dirtblood’s hovel in rural China––when the old woman chuckled.
He was still fighting a conflict of emotions when she winked, lifting her glass in a silent toast from the other side of the banquet table.
Merry Christmas, brother Balidor... she whispered in his head. Merry Christmas, my old friend. And good hunting...
6
Another Christmas
He’d expected it to be dark inside the cell by the time he returned.
He’d waited for a number of hours.
Not too long, since he wanted to be there before midnight so it was still technically in the spirit of things––but he returned later than he had the night before.
Most on the ship slept early. They were on military time and had been for months, which meant they were up at 04:00 or 05:00, not usually much later, which meant correspondingly early rack times for the main shifts among the crew. Most had been drinking at the party, which meant some crashed earlier than usual.
Even so, he waited.
He waited even though it killed him to do it. He knew Jon might be watching him though, or even keeping an eye on Cass’s cell. He also imagined––in his more paranoid moments––that Allie and Revik might know by now, too.
When he finally entered the organic-metal cell, his arms were full.
He additionally wore a backpack.
He’d more than half-expected her to be asleep. He’d already considered what he might do if she was asleep––if he would wake her, or wait for her in some fashion, sleeping outside the circle with a blanket from one of the storage bins.
When he walked in, the lights didn’t rise, however. They were already on.
She sat with her knees drawn up, her arms on her knees, her back leaning against the wall. Her posture was almost identical to what it had been the night before, but when she smiled at him this time, he saw less of that mask over her face.
He knew that might be his light.
He might simply be able to see past her surface shields more easily, given the light he and Cass had exchanged...but he honestly couldn’t be sure.
He kept his own expression infiltrator-still.
He felt her eyes on him as he crossed the mirrored green floor. He could feel her wondering what he might do. She’d obviously already tracked that he’d come in laden with...things. He could tell from her expression that she hadn’t decided how to react to that either.
He stepped unhesitatingly over the circle painted around her on the floor.
As he did, he felt her tense.
He didn’t let himself react.
Stopping in front of her, he lowered his weight to a crouch and set the tray he held onto the floor within easy distance of her hands. Letting go of the handles, he straightened and walked until he stood beside her at the wall. Taking the backpack off one arm, he slid to a seated position, leaning on the wall next to her.
As he settled, she turned her head, looking at him.
He kept his expression blank as that cynical smile curved her lips. Her eyebrow quirked more pointedly as she looked him over.
“Feeling a bit presumptuous, are we?” she said.
“Not at all.” He set the backpack on the floor next to his outer leg, exhaling before he crossed his ankles. He motioned towards the tray. “Aren’t you going to look?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because it will melt if you don’t.”
She blinked, then went back to staring at him. He couldn’t help smiling when she bit her lip, feeling as much as seeing the curiosity tugging at her eyes.
“Am I going to have to blow you for whatever I find in there?” she said.
He laughed. He knew she said it to jab at him, but for some reason it made him laugh anyway. Maybe because he was happy to see her.
“Not that it would be easy to turn down,” he said, still smiling. “But no.”
She snorted, blowing her black curtain of hair out of her face. “Yeah. Right.”
He laughed again, then leaned towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Ignoring her body’s stiffen, he gave her a strong hug and kissed her on the cheek.
Then he released her, retracting his arm.
He leaned against the wall, determined to keep his hands to himself.
“Go on,” he said, waving her towards the tray when she continued to stare at him. “It was a momentary lapse. I won’t molest you again...I promise.”
He saw confusion skate over her eyes at his words. It took her another few seconds to drop it, but he felt pain rise in his belly when he saw disappointment flash briefly over her expression. Then she turned away from him, reaching gingerly for the handle of the cover on the silver tray. She lifted it and he heard her give a low gasp.
He’d brought her an ice cream cake.
Not the same one shaped like a snow-covered mountain that they’d devoured on the deck earlier that day, but a smaller one. He had the baker make this one in the shape of a Christmas tree. In the center of the tree was a replica of the sword and sun ornament she’d hung on the Taylors’ tree as a child.
He felt her recognize it, and flinch.
Then she looked at him, eyes wide. He saw the conflict there and fought not to smile again.
“You like it?” he said.
“What’s in the backpack?” she demanded, clenching her jaw.
“Presents. Do you want those now, too?”
She stared at him, then at the backpack. Then back at him. “You brought me a cake. And presents.”
He nodded, once. “Yes.” He glanced at his watch, tapping it. “Just under the wire
. It’s 23:46, unless this thing has stopped working.”
She stared at him, clearly stumped.
He watched her fighting to decide whether to say more. She even made a few false starts. He felt her struggling to not speak, to not let him see her reacting, but in the end, she did anyway. She wasn’t looking at him though, but at the cake.
“But you don’t want to fuck again?” she said, her voice lower.
He laughed aloud. “What in the gods would give you that idea?”
She turned, sharply, staring at him. He saw suspicion in her eyes, the certainty that he was toying with her. He held up his hands, a seer’s version of the gesture of surrender.
“Because of what I said just now?” he said, quieter.
She nodded, her eyes still wary.
He sighed, clicking. “I only meant I wouldn’t grab you without permission.” Leaning his back against the wall, he exhaled again. “In seer culture, the female initiates. So you’d at least have to tell me if you want me to be the aggressor...or I’m going to assume I’m molesting you. Especially when you accuse me of trying to do quid pro quo exchanges for sex within seconds of seeing that I’ve brought you something...”
At the end, his voice was inexplicably amused again.
“You think this is funny?” she said, frowning.
He shook his head, once. “No. Well...not really.”
“Then why are you fucking laughing at me?”
He thought about that, too. He resettled his back on the wall.
“I’m happy to see you, Cass,” he said. At her stunned look, he used his hand to brush her long hair out of her face. “I missed you.”
She flinched at that too. Then her jaw hardened more.
Ignoring her stare, he caressed her hair back again. “The red is faded,” he observed, looking at her hair rather than meeting her wary look. “I could re-dye it for you again, if you want. The tips, I mean...like how you had it before. Or bring dye for you, if you’d rather do it yourself.”
