Guards stood on either side of that door.
I felt more eyes on us, too, including in the surrounding buildings.
Our host must be waiting for us here.
Revik took my hand.
Gripping my fingers tightly, he began walking us towards the darkened doorway that lived between those arches.
Paintings and tapestries covered the walls of the inside foyer.
An elaborate Persian rug covered that part of the stone floor.
I found myself focusing on the soldiers, noting the guards I saw in shadowed doorways, and in alcoves by stone-framed windows. Elaborate wrought iron bars stood just inside thick, bubbled glass, giving the impression of a fortress as much as a palace.
The floor tiles looked like marble to me, but they may have been limestone, like those of the outside streets. As we ventured deeper into our host’s enclave, I heard at least two flyers following behind us, marking our steps, their round, red eyes trained on us.
I was so preoccupied with Revik’s light, with the flyers and the soldiers pacing us, I barely noticed the building itself––until the space abruptly opened up.
We entered a courtyard, or perhaps an atrium, in the middle of the four-story house.
What looked like a marble staircase twisted up to a second floor on one side. Tapestries hung down from the walls in reds and golds. I saw the symbol of the Sword and Sun hanging under a clock-face embedded in one high marble wall, two stories above.
In the middle of the wide floor beneath the staircase stood an elaborately carved marble table. The stone slab was the same color as the floors, walls, and staircase, as well as a lion’s head fountain embedded in one wall. Plates, dishes, platters and bowls heaped with food, wine bottles and glasses covered the white stone. In the center stood an elaborate table setting of flowers, ferns, woven stick decorations and marble statues.
The chairs had low backs and thick, sky-blue cushions. The stone of the chair backs and feet were carved all over in elaborate bird, vine, flower, dragon and fish designs.
A man sat on the opposite side of the table to where we walked in.
I immediately knew him as seer, and not only for his pale gold and brown eyes.
They were the eyes of a large cat, I thought, staring into his handsome face. His irises were speckled as if perpetually dappled by sunlight. He smiled at us with sculpted lips, his almond-shaped eyes crinkling above high, slanted cheekbones. When he rose to his feet, he had to be close to seven feet tall, at least a few inches taller than Revik.
His long dark hair was held back by a jeweled clip.
He held out his hands towards us hospitably, his smile growing broader.
“My friends!” Bowing formally, he waved us forward, indicating with his fingers for us to join him, to sit anywhere around the long table. “I am told by my guards you all feel hungry in your light, so I took the liberty to arrange for a meal. I hope you do not mind.”
From next to me, Cass’s stomach rumbled.
I glanced over. Looking past her, I saw Feigran staring at the food avidly, his nostrils flared.
“Please!” Our host beamed at us again. “Please, my friends… have a seat! There is plenty here. You may as well fill your bellies while we discuss matters between us.”
Revik and I exchanged looks.
He, like me, was probably wondering if anything we ate or drank here would be safe.
He, like me, might also be flashing back the last banquet we’d been offered, at that château in Argentina before we’d known who Shadow really was.
Still, I didn’t see the point of this guy poisoning us, any more than I had when we accepted Shadow’s invitation in Patagonia.
He could have just as easily shot us in the street.
Anyway, if they thought Revik was bluffing about his tolerance to most drugs, they’d be in for a nasty surprise if they tried to knock him out. If they used anything close to a normal, seer-safe dose, he’d level this building to the ground before the dart hit his bloodstream.
After another pause, Revik gripped my hand tighter.
He led me around the table silently, taking the seat to the right of our host, presumably the local king of these parts. Before he sat, he nodded pointedly to me, indicating for me to sit to his left, so he’d be positioned firmly between us.
Balidor and Cass followed, sitting to my left.
Holo and Stanley walked around to the other side of the table. They sat more or less in the middle, with Feigran seated between the two of them.
Looking at Feigran, I winced.
I hoped he wouldn’t say or do anything too crazy.
He looked a lot more normal these days, after his time with Shadow.
He was a lot bigger for one, with broader shoulders. His more pronounced jaw, fleshed out face and cheekbones and more normal, adult-male weight made him considerably more inconspicuous than his owl-eyed emaciation of before. Still, he’d lost a fair bit of that weight in the months since he’d been back with us.
I knew he’d lost it less because he was underfed, and more because Feigran was a lot less interested in lifting weights and eating healthy food than his alter-ego, Terian, had been.
He’d also gone back to most of his old, Feigran-esque quirks.
I hoped he wouldn’t draw too much attention to himself, or raise too many questions in these people’s minds about who he was, and why he might be traveling with us.
For the first time, it really hit me what I’d done.
Thanks to me and Revik and our “hunches,” the Four were now all being held captive by a local warlord we knew absolutely nothing about. We were all sitting together at the same table, inside a medieval castle-slash-garrison, only a relatively small stretch of water and land away from the headquarters of the Myther group willing to pay huge sums of cash to see me dead.
Next to me, Revik grunted, clasping my hand tighter in his lap.
He turned his head, looking at the seer with the dappled, cat-like irises.
“Are we to get an introduction?” he said in Prexci.
Revik spoke formally and the seer smiled, motioning for a seer standing in the shadows to come forward and pour us drinks. I watched warily as the servant pulled a brand new bottle of red wine off a wooden rack under the staircase. He brought it over to show our host, who nodded, then gestured with a finger for the man to open it.
I watched him uncork the bottle, only turning when our host spoke.
“Of course, of course… I apologize for my rudeness, Illustrious Brother. I admit, I am feeling somewhat overwhelmed at such prestigious guests.” He beamed at me, then looked back at Revik. “I am Atwar. Son of Atalan, of clan Parethe. We have lived in this part of the world for many years. I was a businessman prior to this messiness with the virus, but now I am, I suppose you could say, the benefactor of our humble city.”
My voice came out more blunt than Revik’s had.
“Did you ever swear allegiance to the being calling itself Shadow, brother Atwar?” I said.
He quirked an eyebrow at me, glancing at Revik before smiling faintly as he lowered his glass. Having just taken a sip of the newly-opened wine, he swallowed, tilting his head as if in thought for a few seconds.
Nodding then, he motioned that the wine was good enough to serve, keeping his eyes on me as the servant began to fill each of our glasses, one by one.
“I did not swear allegiance to that individual, Esteemed Sister,” he said to me pleasantly. “Despite some considerable pressure to do so. Nor did I engage in trade with him or his allies. In fact, I invited you here because I believe we may have interests in common.”
Revik gave me a bare glance, lifting an eyebrow.
“You are aware of the bounties,” Balidor said from my other side.
I glanced at him. I knew he must have felt Atwar hoping to use those bounties as leverage, or he wouldn’t have brought them up at all. Balidor confirmed my suspicion with a darting glance, firming his lips before looking bac
k at Atwar.
“We apologize for our bluntness, brother,” the Adhipan leader added. “But you must imagine it is important to us to ascertain the bare essentials of your motives in escorting our intermediaries here in such a manner. Their existence is hardly uncontroversial these days. And we are told these new bounties are… generous. So much so, I cannot help but wonder if you are right now calculating whether what you want from our beloved Bridge and Sword is worth more than what your neighbors in Italy offer for their heads.”
Atwar smiled, leaning back in his chair.
After a faint chuckle, he made a respectful gesture to the Adhipan seer, forehead to lips to heart with the tips of his fingers.
“Brother Balidor,” he said, clasping his heart more dramatically at the end. “I must say, I am most honored to have you here with us, as well. I am a great admirer of yours… and of your most excellent Adhipan soldiers. We have one of yours, in fact, leading our military forces here.”
Balidor frowned. “One of mine? Who?”
“Kalashi.”
Surprise touched Balidor’s gray eyes. “Kalashi is here?”
“Yes, brother.”
Atwar glanced at Cass, a faint curiosity in his eyes, as if he wondered who she was. In the end, he shrugged, apparently deciding not to raise the issue, at least not yet.
He returned his gaze to Balidor.
“I will make sure she is aware of your arrival,” Atwar said. “I am quite sure she would want to speak with you, as soon as possible. For a number of reasons.”
He gave Cass another brief glance, and that time, I saw Cass frown, right before she gave Balidor an annoyed look. Taking another swallow of wine, Atwar made an expansive gesture with one ring-clad hand.
“…As to your concerns I might be suffering some internal conflict due to the excessive bounty currently offered for the death of the Bridge, you needn’t worry, Adhipan Balidor.” He glanced at Revik, his cat-like eyes solemn. “Nor should her mate. For there is no conflict in my heart on that point, brothers. I do not need to make that decision. It is already made.”
He aimed his gaze back at me and Revik.
“Nor was it a particularly difficult one to make,” he added with a smile. “That would be true even if I did not suffer from a streak of excessive practicality. After all, what amount of money could these fanatics offer that would be worth risking half my people’s deaths? Not to mention my own death, and a good chunk of my home and holdings. I would never be fool enough to try to take down one telekinetic seer on my own––much less two.”
He looked at Revik shrewdly, his eyes showing respect, coupled with a faint tinge of curiosity as he glanced more surreptitiously at me.
“We remember Syrimne d’Gaos in this part of the world, brother,” he said, his voice serious. “We remember him well. There is no amount of money in the world that could tempt me to raise my blade to such a being… even if he were not slated with his mate to bring about a better world for all of us, human and seer alike.”
There was a silence where the rest of us looked at one another.
Only Revik didn’t look away from Atwar’s face. After a pause, he lifted his glass at the implied compliment, taking a long drink of the dark red wine.
The rest of us watched him minutely.
Revik took another, longer drink, setting his glass down by his plate.
After a few more seconds where he scanned his own light, he sent around a blatant ping to our group that the wine, at least––and apparently the wine glasses––seemed to be fine. I felt everyone around the table relax.
Holo picked up his glass, glancing at Stanley, who did the same.
I lifted my glass, about to take a sip of my own, when Revik gave me a look.
Not you, wife. Please.
I lowered the glass slowly, setting it down as nonchalantly as I could.
Atwar smiled around at us, as if he’d caught all of those exchanges and wasn’t the slightest bit offended by any of them. He rather seemed to find them quaint.
“Anyway,” the tiger-eyed seer said, once more leaning back in his chair, his wine glass held lightly in one hand. “Unless I am misunderstanding our Myther friends a great deal, I suspect any riches they try to tempt me with will be entirely worthless in not too long a time.”
Draining the last of his wine, he motioned towards the platters of food.
“Please,” he said. “Do help yourself. My chef is seer, and really the most excellent creator of dishes I’ve ever encountered. We are quite lucky to have her.”
Feigran didn’t hesitate.
Leaning forward, he snatched the leg of what must have been a turkey off the platter in front of him. Taking a spoon, he filled his plate with some kind of green cream sauce, then mushrooms, then bread, butter, potatoes and gravy.
His plate was positively heaping with food by the time he finished.
Revik filled my plate before he filled his own, speaking to our host as he used a serving fork and ladle, and I nudged him towards dishes I wanted to try.
“You think the Myther money is worthless?” Revik said, giving Atwar a sideways glance. “What makes you say that? Are you fully on a barter system here, then?”
“Yes,” Atwar said, accepting a plate from his servant that held only a small round cake with fondant dressing, a small bowl of what looked like honeyed butter, and a pile of berries covered in powdered sugar. “But that is not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” Balidor said.
He put a forkful of what looked like mashed pumpkin into his mouth after he spoke, washing it down with a few swallows of wine. Next to him, Cass was eating a piece of white fish with some kind of wine sauce and butter.
“It is quite simple,” Atwar said, the fork in his hand hovering over the fondant cake. “We have been watching the progress of these Myther fanatics, and it’s quite clear that world domination is their goal. I do not wish to do anything to aid them in that goal. Being neighbors, we know we are on their radar already. They haven’t made any moves towards us yet, but troops are massing in the northern part of Italy. We suspect they are planning to drive others to the quarantine cities in France and Switzerland.”
Revik looked over, frowning faintly as he finished filling his own plate and set it down in front of him.
“You know about Cairo, then,” he said, blunt. “And Delhi.”
“Yes, Illustrious Brother.” Antwar’s gaze grew colder. “And Dubai. We are aware of how busy our neighboring fantatics have been. I had a blood brother in New Delhi. He transmitted to us daily as to what was happening there, as well as in the areas north of the city, all the way up to what was once Seertown. He was quite alarmed as to what he saw. He gave us updates several times a day… until those updates abruptly stopped.”
Gazing around at all of us, Atwar firmed his mouth.
For the first time, a barely suppressed rage touched his expression.
“I am told by his mate that he was taken by these Mythers,” he said, his voice hard. “He now wears some kind of collar that makes him bleed… that makes him not know Tulesh, his mate. That collar made him a slave to fanatics and murderers, and practically overnight.”
“I am very sorry to hear this, brother,” Revik said, swallowing a mouthful of some kind of meat, what I guessed was venison. Revik’s voice was polite, bordering on cautious. “What of his mate? Is he able to free him? Perhaps removing the collar would reverse the effects.”
Atwar paused, clenching his jaw in some denser emotion.
He glanced at Revik, his cat-like eyes hard.
“No,” he said. “He cannot be freed. His mate tried. He hired help, bringing a group of mercenary seers to try. I even helped fund this attempt. Most of those mercenaries are now slaves, I’m told. As for my brother, he killed his own mate on the orders of these Mythers. They say he is dying now himself, in a hole in the ground––as per the edicts of his life-bond.”
There was a silence after he spoke.
&n
bsp; I felt sick.
Despite my blindness I felt a reaction from Balidor as well, and a stronger one from Revik next to me. Holo and Stanley both looked at Atwar like his story made them nauseous. When I glanced at Cass, I caught her looking at me, as if gauging my reaction.
Only Feigran seemed oblivious as he gnawed happily on the giant turkey leg.
When I looked back at Atwar, I found him studying my face, as well.
“I was very close to my brother, Esteemed Sister,” he said. “I hear you have a brother you are close to, as well.”
Thinking about Jon, I nodded, feeling my jaw harden.
“Yes,” I said simply.
“Then you understand,” he said. “You understand why I need to know why my brother is no longer with me on this plane––why his child is now missing two of his parents. You understand why I wish to know more about these human fanatics, and their plans for the rest of us. Particularly given their proximity to my people here.”
I nodded more slowly that time. “They are killing many of their own kind too, brother. Far more than they are of ours.”
Atwar grimaced, making a dismissive gesture with one hand.
“Do not misunderstand me, sister,” he said, dabbing his mouth with a sky blue cloth napkin before sweeping it back over his lap. “I rule over humans as well as seers in this town. They are equally my people, and equally my responsibility. The humans here represent themselves in the same numbers to our leadership as do our own people. I am not one who would oppress our cousins, simply due to their race. I will not kill them for that reason, either.”
His gold eyes grew harder, more animal-like.
“But I confess, I wish to know what you know of these Mythers. I suspect your reasons for being here is not coincidence, given what lies across the water from us.”
Firming his mouth, he glanced at Revik, then back at me.
“What are you proposing exactly, brother?” Revik said, his voice smoothly polite.
“I have no reason to be coy,” Atwar said, once more focusing those amber eyes on me. “I also suspect we do not have time for such diplomatic dances. Therefore, I will just state what it is I want, and hope you forgive my bluntness. I am wondering what information you will share with me about this Myther group, including their leadership, in exchange for my assistance in helping you to breach the Holy City, and to wipe them out.”
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