“Alyson,” he cut in. His pale eyes met mine. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you from killing my friends.” I pressed my lips together as the truth of that sank in. “Why are you still here? Haven’t you done what you came for?”
His jaw hardened. I saw him glance at Balidor, then at the rest of the Adhipan fanned around the emergency vehicles, guns raised.
“You’re not safe with them,” he said finally.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “You’re right. No one’s safe with you running around. Certainly not me.”
“Alyson,” he growled.
I held up a hand, holding his gaze with an effort. “I appreciate your services tonight. I do.” I saw his eyes flinch, bleeding rapidly into a stunned incredulity. I went on before he could speak. “I don’t think I’ll be needing them again, though. I’m going to ask Vash to sever us.”
I paused, to make sure he’d heard me.
“That should free you up to pursue your other goals. Without you having to worry about me.” I fought back a hotter flush of emotion, biting my lip. “You used me tonight. To murder all of these people. You used me. Don’t think I don’t know that.”
“Alyson––” he growled.
“No.” I met his gaze, voice warning. “Don’t waste your breath. Nothing you say is going to change what you did.”
Clenching my jaw, I looked away from the expression on his face. Anger, disbelief, frustration, guilt stood in his eyes––but also helplessness and hurt, of such an intensity I couldn’t bear to look at it. Something about that expression reminded me of the cabin.
I couldn’t think about that, though. Not now. Maybe not ever again.
“I want you to go.” Swallowing, I shook my head. “I want you to go, and I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“It won’t work, Allie,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Even if you mean what you’re saying, Vash can’t separate us, not anymore. I told you, long ago, it was a one-way decision with us. You made that decision. We both did.”
“And you broke it,” I reminded him, looking up. “Again and again.”
He stared at me. I saw conflict in his eyes, a frustration that now bordered on fury, along with a guilt that sparked out in a flush of pain.
“Alyson. I don’t want to talk about this here––”
I cut him off, going on as if he hadn’t spoken.
“––and you might be right about us, husband, about the bond.” Shaking my head, I firmed my jaw, not looking at him. “I honestly don’t know. But I’m sure Vash would be willing to give it the old college try, if I asked him. I think Tarsi might help out with that, as well.” Meeting his gaze, I quieted my voice, opening my light enough that he could feel me.
“Either way, we’re done, Revik. It’s over.”
His jaw hardened.
I glanced at Wreg, saw that he’d paled, just before he glanced at Revik.
Something in Wreg’s expression hit at me, bringing a hotter rush of emotion.
That time, what came out was less rational.
“Did you hear me?” I raised my voice, pointing up the ramp. “We’re done. So you can fuck all the prostitutes you want, brother Syrimne. You can do whatever you want. I’m rescinding any and all claims on you. I expect you to do the same for me.”
Revik’s eyes met mine.
I found myself hesitating at what I saw there. His irises sparked vaguely with light as I watched, but he didn’t seem to be doing it consciously. I was still staring at him, trying to understand what I was seeing, when he looked away, wiping his face with one hand.
I realized in a dim kind of shock that those were tears in his eyes.
“Allie.” He looked at me again. His voice was cold but soft, impossible to read. “It won’t be enough. We’re not just mates… we’ve never just been mates. You won’t be able to get rid of me that easily. Even if you do sever it.” He met my gaze, his eyes empty. “And you won’t sever us, Alyson. I won’t let you.”
For a moment, we just looked at each other. I could feel our light pushing up against one another’s, a wall of electricity crackling between us in the space. Then his aleimi backed down, right before he looked away.
The look on his face made me swallow again.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “But I’m sure going to try.”
Revik turned then, looking at Wreg.
“Let’s go.”
For a moment, Wreg didn’t seem to be able to tear his eyes off me. Then he jumped, reaching for the control panel to the armored truck.
The engine roared to life. Wreg backed them out of there so fast I smelled rubber burning on the cement. Slamming into a civilian car behind it on the driveway, Wreg wrenched the wheel sideways while I watched, executing a turn before hitting the accelerator again.
I saw Revik through the passenger side window. He was still staring at me.
I didn’t let out my held breath until the armored truck disappeared behind the wall of concrete delineating the edge of the tunnel.
When I turned towards the others, I saw them all staring at me.
Shock plumed off their collective lights in wisps and clouds, coiling around me.
Balidor openly gaped at me, his expression stunned.
“Allie,” he said, closing his mouth with a snap. He seemed at a loss for words. His hand grabbed my arm. “Alyson. What are you doing?”
I gave him an incredulous look.
“What am I doing? Isn’t this exactly what everyone wanted me to do? Swear off the dangerous psychopath I married?”
“Yes, Alyson, but… gods.” Balidor swallowed, stroking my arm. “Don’t you realize, Allie? You just marked Vash for death. You may have condemned the entire Council of Seven.”
I stared at him.
Then his words sank in. I felt something in my chest collapse.
“Where is he?” I managed. “Vash? Where is he, ‘Dori?”
9
BIRTHDAY
I SAT ON a metal bench rimming a wide cargo hold inside a plane traveling at roughly 36,000 feet above sea level. I was freezing, shivering against the gusts of cold air that whispered through the wide compartment. I didn’t get up to look for a coat.
The pain had worsened already.
I couldn’t remember it ever being this bad, not even when Terian had him for months in that cell in the mountains.
I could barely think through it. I could barely think about anything else.
I had to assume it was worse partly because it had worsened on his end. It also crossed my mind that he might have taken me up on my offer and found someone else to warm his bed, or several someones, and I was feeling that, too.
I couldn’t really go there, though.
I couldn’t laugh it off. I couldn’t even pretend I didn’t care.
I stared at the floor of the cargo hold, trying to blank my mind.
No one made me ride in there, but I could tell Balidor was relieved when I volunteered to spend the flight in the one part of the plane with no windows.
I had no idea where we were headed, only that Vash didn’t think I’d be safe in Asia, given what happened in Delhi, and the number of contacts the Rebels had across the continent. After a long pow-wow between Balidor and the Council, the decision was made to hide me somewhere else, at least until they could gauge Revik’s response to my words in the garage.
I knew they’d probably divert me a few times, in addition to sending out decoys.
The couldn’t tell me anything, of course, despite the construct on the plane. Revik and I were still connected. No one, including me, thought a construct would be enough to keep him out, not if he wanted in.
Whatever they did to hide me, it wouldn’t be enough to fool Revik for long.
Still, it might confuse him long enough for us to regroup and come up with a new strategy. I knew the goal for now was to buy us time, in part for Vash and Tarsi to try and sever us.
Of course, a lot of
this was speculation on my part.
I didn’t actually know the plan, for the same reasons I didn’t know where they were taking me. I’d been cut out of the construct––the military arm of it, anyway––likely indefinitely.
I wrapped my arms around my upper body, shivering in the cold air. My breath plumed in clouds from between my lips. I wore thermals, a sweat shirt, jeans, combat boots. I still needed my coat, but I didn’t get up to look for it.
I sat there instead, gripping my own torso as if to keep my insides from falling out on the metal floor. I don’t think I knew I was crying until the sound of footsteps on the circular staircase from the passenger cabin broke me out of my stupor.
I looked up, and my vision blurred.
Watching him approach, I held my ribs, squeezing them tight enough to hurt. I shivered uncontrollably, but I couldn’t seem to make a sound. I couldn’t articulate anything in my head, nothing that made sense. I didn’t know if I wanted him there or not.
When Balidor sat next to me, I only looked at him.
He didn’t say anything, either.
Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me up against his chest, tugging me halfway into his lap. He adjusted his heavy coat so it covered me, then wrapped his arms around me tighter, pulling me snugly up against him.
I couldn’t help noticing that his arms were thicker than Revik’s, but not as long. His chest was broad, but not as broad as Revik’s now that he’d become Syrimne. He had more hair on his arms, and his chest.
He breathed slowly, calmly, exuding warmth.
After we’d been sitting there a few seconds longer, he opened his light.
We just sat there, not talking, for what felt like a long time.
Somewhere in that, I stopped shivering, but he still didn’t let me go.
I ACCIDENTALLY BIT my tongue, jostling up and down in the back of what must be a truck, or a van of some kind.
I made a sound, tasting blood, but didn’t speak.
A black hood covered my head.
I wore a collar now, too.
I found myself touching the latter compulsively, even under the hood, grimacing at the cold sensation against my spine, hating the flat feeling of everything around me. It was enough to cause a fear reaction in me, ratcheting up my paranoia. I knew some of that was feeling blind, knowing I couldn’t protect myself if something happened.
I knew that wasn’t all of it, though.
I felt myself looking for him, even now.
When they first put the collar on me, I’d looked for him intensely enough that the collar shocked me, again and again, forcing Balidor to change the pain settings to keep me from hurting myself. The one night I’d slept in it, I woke up to the collar going off, too, slanting out my vision from my dreaming about him––
I cut the thought off.
Still, I understood now, why Revik hated the damned things so much.
I shoved that aside, too.
My panic worsened. I knew it was fucked up, but I wanted to know where he was, what the hell he was doing. Who he was with. I needed to know. It felt critical.
I shut my eyes behind the hood, counting to ten.
I found myself remembering a story Vash told me, about the fastest way to get someone to think about monkeys––all you had to do is tell them to not think about monkeys. Ever since Balidor warned me not to think about Revik, he was the only thing my mind seemed to care about. His was the only face that appeared behind my eyes.
Of course, Balidor’s warning might just have made me aware of how often I thought about Revik already.
Since I couldn’t distract myself by looking around, I tried using every other sense I had at my disposal. That meant counting bumps in the road, listening to horns honking outside, smelling diesel fumes, hearing voices in short spurts as we passed them on the road. Realizing I was in danger of noting which language those people spoke, or gleaning some other form of information I might use to identify our location, I forced my mind off that, too, doing my best to block out everything, in part by reciting song lyrics in my head.
That worked for another good hour or so.
By then, the noises outside had diminished considerably. In fact, I hadn’t heard any people at all since I’d made up my mind to stop listening.
I focused on the people inside the car, instead. I could hear the breathing of at least four others in the back compartment with me. I tried to identify them by their breathing alone, but could only make partially-informed guesses.
One smelled like Jon.
I know that sounds odd, but being awakened as a seer really changed my senses, so I could smell people sometimes––people I knew well, anyway.
I guessed one of the others to be Balidor, but more from my knowledge of Adhipan protocol than anything to do with seer super-senses.
I heard a laugh, and realized Cass was there, too, which meant the Wvercian giant, Baguen, must be as well, since he never left her side. That accounted for the smell of hiri to my right, since I knew he chain-smoked the things.
“Alyson,” Balidor said, soft, from my left. “The idea was that you would not pay attention to your surroundings. Or mark your companions as targets.”
I felt my throat close.
Firming my jaw, I shook my head.
“You’d better distract me, then.” I fought to smile, knowing he wouldn’t see it, but hoping he might hear it in my voice. “Tell me a story, ‘Dor. Or knock me out. Or tell me not to think about monkeys. Be convincing, though… my brain is being an asshole.”
I heard Jon snort a laugh.
“No need,” Balidor said, laying a hand on mine. Whether or not he’d heard mine, I heard the smile in his words. “We are here.”
The vehicle (“truck” my mind supplied unhelpfully) began to slow.
It rolled to a stop on a slope, its nose a good foot higher than the back end.
There was a pause while everyone around me seemed to be picking up luggage. I smiled to myself. One benefit of being the prisoner of Zendor––porter service.
“Very funny, Alyson,” Balidor murmured. He handed me a bag, which I took, awkwardly. “Your hands seem to work just fine.”
“Hey, I’m the Bridge,” I said. “You can’t just turn me into a pack horse because you’re feeling petty.”
Jon snorted, right before I felt his large hand pat my shoulder. “Nice try, Al. Keep that up and you’re making dinner, too.”
“Your funeral,” I said.
Jon snorted again.
Balidor caught hold of my arm on the other side. Between the two of them, I found myself being led across relatively flat and even ground. It was actual ground, though, not cement––as in, dirt and grass, with the occasional leaf crunching under my combat boots.
I felt it slope downward after we’d been walking a few more seconds.
“Allie…” Balidor growled.
“Sorry!” I said. “It’s a little hard not to pay attention at all. Especially since I’d prefer to keep from falling on my face.”
“A little faith in your escorts, if you please,” he said. “Step.”
I did as he said. I followed him and Jon, who snorted a laugh every time I followed one of Balidor’s commands. I started wondering if they were screwing with me, having me step over things that weren’t there.
“So paranoid,” Balidor murmured.
Jon shook me a little where he held me. I could almost feel him grinning.
Letting out a half-amused, half-exasperated sigh, I gave in, stepping when they told me to, following the pulls of their fingers whenever I needed to change direction.
When I tripped on something hard, a root or a stone, I nearly fell.
“Seriously?” I said when they laughed. “So much for my faith-invoking escorts.”
Balidor chuckled louder. So did Jon, and someone walking behind us, who I immediately realized was Vash. I managed to keep hold of the bag Balidor had thrust on me, somehow.
“Dicks,” I said,
after we’d been walking a little longer.
“Charming, Esteemed Bridge,” Jon smiled.
From behind us, Vash chortled again.
The acoustics sounded different now, and the surface under my feet was flat. Not completely flat, but flatter certainly, almost like paving stones––
“You’re doing it again,” Balidor said.
“You’ve got me collared,” I complained. “What more do you want from me?”
All three of them laughed again, and I realized they really were screwing with me.
“So it doesn’t matter what I think at all?”
“No, Esteemed Bridge,” Balidor said, and I heard the grin in his words. “You’ve been in a construct since you left the plane.”
I cursed him out, which of course only made all three of them laugh harder.
“Step,” Balidor said again, still laughing. “Step…”
“Okay,” I said, in mock irritation. “I get it already. At a certain point you can just say ‘stairs,’ Balidor, and let it go.”
“She’s awfully touchy,” Balidor remarked to Jon.
“You can say that again,” Jon replied.
Vash giggled from behind us.
I snorted, mostly because I could never seem to not laugh when I heard Vash laugh––then let out a gasp when someone, probably Balidor, picked me up in their arms. I felt myself being passed from hand to hand before I got to the bottom of wherever it was. Then my feet were set gently on a floor, one as flat as poured cement.
With a flourish, someone yanked the dark hood off my head.
I found myself in a dimly-lit space, surrounded by smiling faces.
On a stone table in front of me lay an enormous cake, covered in what looked like approximately thirty candles, their flames guttering in a cool, earthy-smelling breeze. Decorated in precise white and blue frosting, the cake depicted a stunningly accurate image of the Himalayas, with a gold sun in the background and orange and red clouds.
I turned my head, and found Balidor’s face, smiling at me below serious gray eyes. Next to him, I saw Jon, Cass, Dorje, Vash, Baguen, Garend, Inge and Anale. I was still standing there, bewildered, when Tenzi kissed me on the cheek, squeezing my hand.
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