Sword

by JC Andrijeski

  Wreg held up his hands. “No offense meant. I just thought maybe you needed to get your mind off things.”

  Revik felt his jaw harden.

  Two years ago, he could rarely get sex with another seer he didn’t pay for. He’d maintained a few friends he could occasionally trade with, like Kat and Ullysa, but most of the females in the Seven steered clear of him as a byproduct of his time in the Rooks.

  He understood why. The interrogations when he’d been brought back to the Seven had been fairly public. Even before he remembered much, he picked up enough off others to know it had been bad––in some cases, graphically bad.

  It had been a point of embarrassment to him, that he had so few willing sex partners among his own people, but he worked with it. Occasionally he ran into a seer in the States who hadn’t heard of him, but since the vast majority of the unowned seers in the West were infiltrators, that had been exceedingly rare. And, of course, not all of those strangers were eager to jump into his bed, either… or he theirs, for that matter.

  He’d been all right with that, he thought.

  Now all of a sudden, if he could believe Wreg, he could have any female he wanted.

  Instead of finding the idea attractive, as he might have done a few years ago, he found it sickened him a little. Maybe more than a little.

  When he first knew her, it confused him that Allie wanted him.

  Even after she knew who she was, even after she’d witnessed enough about his past for any normal seer to have serious misgivings, she’d accepted him. She maybe hadn’t let it go, not entirely, but she accepted those things as a part of his past, a part of who he was.

  Of course, he didn’t know at the time who they were to one another.

  Even so, it had touched him.

  It still touched him, that acceptance of hers. She’d wanted him, even after the other seers must have told her the same thing Wreg just said to him––that she could have any seer she wanted, that she could marry any one of them, even the head of the Adhipan himself, and they would be nothing but honored by her choice.

  Instead, she’d waited for a social outcast to get over his attachment fears.

  She’d been faithful to him––well past the point where anyone could have reasonably expected her to be. She’d told him she loved him before she knew if he felt the same.

  She hadn’t slept with a single seer before him. Not one… and he knew she’d received offers. Likely many offers, the whole time Terian had him.

  Revik’s jaw hardened.

  After a moment where he only stared blankly at the floor of the cabin, he paused the sequence on the virtual recorder, and rose to his feet in a single motion. Wreg watched him in some surprise, moving out of his way to clear his path to the aisle. It crossed Revik’s mind that the Sark probably thought he’d reconsidered his suggestion, but Revik walked right past the female seers, not sparing them so much as a glance as he made his way to the front of the plane.

  He opened the door to the cockpit without knocking.

  The pilot looked up at him. Her sharp eyes were a pale violet in color, setting off an otherwise bland-featured face with dark skin.

  “Sir?” she said.

  “I’d like to send a message,” he said. “Through VR. Will it interfere with your instruments?”

  “No, sir,” she said, gesturing a negative with her fingers. “Send it through the secure network, and it should be fine.”

  “Even if it’s going to a public queue?”

  The female blinked at him. Her lips pursed. “Yes. That should be fine, sir.”

  He bowed his head stiffly. “Thank you.”

  She smiled. “Anytime, sir.”

  He was already retreating, letting the cockpit door slide shut as it left his fingers. Walking back to his seat, he motioned for Wreg to get up, that he wanted privacy. After barely a pause, Wreg gestured in acknowledgment, rising to his feet hastily to vacate the row where Revik had spread out his things.

  Revik could tell the seer was genuinely worried about him, so he tried not to take offense. Still, his jaw hardened a little under the Sark’s stare.

  Letting his weight fall back into the chair once his lieutenant had gone, he set aside the virtual controls, touching a button on the side of the armrest. Keying in a code from memory, he requested a writing board and a stylus.

  He could have called up a keyboard just as easily, of course––or even dictated the words nonverbally. He didn’t want to.

  When it was something he needed to feel his way through, he still had a tendency to fall back on writing by hand. Maybe it was simply habit; he’d handwritten just about everything during his life under Galaith, due to the Shield’s strange ideas around security.

  Or maybe it was because writing had been how he’d expressed himself for all of those years as a child, in Bavaria, while he lived under Menlim.

  In any case, it felt more personal.

  He picked up the stylus and began to write.

  He finished earlier than he thought he would. He found that what he wanted to say was simpler than he’d expected. Maybe clearer, too. He only reread it once.

  Then, saving it into the organic pad, he pulled up a directory on the network and, after some searching, keyed in a number, sliding a headset over his ear. He used an avatar, but knew, on some level, it wouldn’t really matter.

  “Hello?” a voice said in Hindi.

  “Namaste,” Revik answered in the same. “Is this a public network?”

  “Yes, sir. Dharamasala.”

  “I see. Do you ever run messages up to Seertown?”

  There was a silence.

  “We did, sir,” the voice said. “You know what happened up there, do you not?” Revik glimpsed the man’s sad smile through the Barrier. “No more messages, sir. The town is destroyed. There is no one to receive messages anymore, sir.”

  “Can you still reach it, by car?”

  “The roads are open, sir, yes. For over a month now.”

  Revik sent the note he had written to the man’s address. In the same sequence, he keyed in an amount, transferring it from his personal funds.

  “I’d like you to deliver a message for me, to a particular building in Seertown. I can send very precise directions as to which building, and which door your messenger should knock on before attempting to enter.”

  He waited while he felt the man stare at the amount he’d sent.

  “Can you do that for me?” he said. “A decent paper for the printing of the note would be much appreciated.”

  The man’s voice changed entirely, nearly bursting out of him.

  “Most certainly, sir!” he said. “Yes, sir… we can do that! Is there anything else you would like us to deliver up there, sir? To that address? We can bring food, clothing… blankets. If there are persons staying up there, perhaps they would like a radio? Something to pass the time?”

  Revik smiled. “I think they are likely quite occupied as they are.” He paused. “Be careful, though. They won’t be expecting this message.” He hesitated, then added, “No weapons. And you should probably send a human. Not a seer. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” the man said. “Right away, sir. Is there anything else, sir?”

  Revik was about to say no, when he hesitated.

  Staring out the window, he glimpsed white clouds in the distance, a curl of blue water further below. At the sun reflecting diamonds on the surface of the ocean, a faint smile came to his lips.

  Giving a short laugh, he shook his head, mostly at himself.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, my good cousin. There is one more thing…”

  15

  OPTIONS

  I SAT CROSS-LEGGED on the stone floor, watching the ancient seer as he stretched out his legs, propping his back against the wall.

  Despite his thin legs and arms, the posture made him look like a big kid, even in the sand-colored monk’s robe, a variation of which he’d worn since I’d met him.

  I’d brought
us tea.

  Well, more accurately, I brought him tea, but I intended to drink some too, if only to be polite. I poured him a cup while he continued to stretch out his joints, glancing around the cell-like room he’d claimed as sleeping quarters.

  From the slight bleariness in his eyes, I suspected he’d just woken up.

  “And how are your discussions with Feigran progressing?” he said, aiming his smile from the walls to me. “Anything interesting, Alyson?”

  I looked up at the old seer and smiled back, in spite of myself.

  He was one of those people who just seemed endlessly to be smiling.

  It was strange to think sometimes, that he held most of the original clan knowledge and history in his head, likely verbatim, as well as a few thousand scriptures, endless Barrier technologies and constructs he’d created himself, and imprints of some of the most refined lights to have ever incarnated on the material plane.

  Basically, Vash was a walking, talking encyclopedia––just a really happy one.

  I almost forgot sometimes, that he was one of the last, true adepts left in the seer world. He and Tarsi, between them, constituted probably the most highly skilled seers left alive.

  Vash represented the monk side of that equation.

  Looking at him now, it occurred to me what an incalculable loss to the entire seer community it would be, if anything were to happen to him.

  His smile at me widened.

  “Thank you, Alyson.”

  Grunting, I smiled wryly, shaking my head. “I’m the reason your life is in danger. You shouldn’t be thanking me, Vash.”

  Vash chuckled. “Oh, I daresay that’s not true. Old age is far stealthier than your mate.”

  When I quirked an eyebrow at him, his grin only widened, turning into another chuckle.

  “There you go with the happy, again,” I said, smiling back involuntarily. “Even when I’m thinking about your death, you’re practically giddy.”

  “Everything dies,” he said agreeably.

  I shook my head, laughing a little, in spite of myself.

  A few seconds later, my mind sobered again. Vash hadn’t had a good year, however happy he might seem to me. His son, Yerin, died six months earlier, in the bombing of Seertown, and I knew it still weighed on the old seer. I also highly suspected he was missing Tarsi about now, his girlfriend––if an eight hundred year old ex-Adhipan leader could ever be called something that trivial, no matter what the context.

  Vash chuckled a little.

  I found myself laughing with him that time, too.

  Even collared, I felt something in my chest loosen as I got comfortable on the floor next to him. I always seemed to relax when I was in his light.

  “To answer your question, they’re going no where, really. The talks with Feigran,” I added to clarify. “He’s crazy as a shit-house rat.” Pausing when I remembered the seer likely had never heard that phrase, I smiled again. “…That was one of my human father’s expressions. I guess you might say, ‘crazy as a Terian,’ but that would be redundant in this case.”

  Vash nodded, his expression serious. “I see. Well, what will you do with him in that case, Alyson?”

  “He says he’s one of the Four,” I said. “…So I’m thinking I probably shouldn’t kill him. Or let him go, come to think of it.” I studied Vash’s face. “Balidor told me you believed him. That you think he’s one of the Four, too… or, Elaerian, at least.”

  Vash looked at me for a long moment, his face smooth. Finally, he shrugged with one hand, seer-fashion.

  “I honestly have no idea, Alyson. I simply told Adhipan Balidor that it is possible. Feigran’s mind is very fractured, and you and Dehgoies are the only half of the Four I have ever had the pleasure to meet formally.”

  I nodded. “So the Four thing… it’s real? There really are four of us down here who are supposed to usher in the Displacement?”

  “It’s as real as any story can be, Bridge Alyson.”

  I frowned. “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning, there is a story that matches your energetic imprints… which means there is some relationship between it and you.”

  I only got part of what he was driving at with that, which was pretty normal with Vash, too. After going back and forth in my head about whether I wanted to pursue that line, I sighed, combing my fingers through my hair.

  “Revik wants him,” I said.

  “Well, yes.” Vash gestured in affirmation, folding his hands between his knees as he leaned his back against the wall. “I imagine he does.”

  “What for, do you think?”

  Vash took the cup of tea and saucer I offered him, clicking softly with his tongue. “I have absolutely no idea, Alyson.”

  I laughed again, unable to help myself.

  He was still smiling at me when I blurted out my real question.

  “Can you do it, Vash?” I met his dark gaze when he turned his face towards mine. “We haven’t even talked about it, you and I. I have no idea if you and Tarsi have talked about it, either.” I wrapped my arms around my knees, weaving my fingers together. “Before we talk about the whys and the shoulds… can it be done, do you think?”

  I didn’t have to explain what I meant.

  The seer went silent, and I could see from his eyes that he was seeking the answer to my question in the Barrier. I waited, taking another sip of tea while I watched him. A few seconds later, his eyes clicked back into focus, and turned to meet mine.

  His expression hadn’t changed, but I saw a more serious glimmer in his eyes.

  “I do not know,” he said. “Truthfully, it is a highly unusual request, Bridge Alyson.” He paused, gazing up at the ceiling. “I cannot recall ever having been asked to perform a severance on a mated pair before, not one that had consummated.” He looked at me, his dark eyes shining. “That is interesting, isn’t it? I am quite old. You’d think at least one pair would have—”

  “But in theory—”

  “In theory, all things are possible, yes,” Vash said.

  If he’d been anyone else, I might have thought he was messing with me. Since it was Vash, I just waited for him to elaborate.

  “…But many possible things are also made impossible by theories,” he added. “…as well as the reverse. So it is quite difficult to be precise based on that alone.” Glancing at me, he took a sip of the tea, adding, “What do you think, Bridge Alyson? Does it feel possible to you, to live without him?”

  I paused on his wording.

  Then, exhaling a little shortly, I threw my hands up, letting my knees drop back to the hard ground.

  “No idea,” I said. “Revik said he wouldn’t let me. I don’t know if that means anything to you, or if it’s just more words.”

  Vash shook his head, seer fashion, his eyes puzzled. “I cannot tell from your memory of his remark. He was very upset, Alyson.”

  “Yes.” I sighed. “I know he was. Look, Vash. You’ve got to see it’s necessary though, right? It’s at least necessary that we try. I can’t let him yank my chain when he’s like this. I can’t stay collared forever, either. I can’t be in the middle of his war as his wife, not when I can’t fight him or second-guess him or even try to help him. I can’t do anything for him or anyone else, not when he knows where I am every second, and what I’m thinking.”

  I swallowed, shrugging, seer-fashion, with a hand.

  “And he’s right. We can’t live apart like this. Not forever.” I met Vash’s gaze. “So that means either I go back to him and be his wife for real… or we sever it.”

  Vash sighed, clicking softly.

  “Yes,” he said. “All of these thoughts you have are very logical.” He looked at me, eyes serious. “But Alyson… severing you from your mate could kill you. It could kill you just as easily as if one of you had died. You are aware of this? Balidor mentioned it, surely?”

  I blinked. Then I focused on my tea cup, watching my fingers clench around it slowly.

  “No,” I sai
d. “He didn’t… mention that.”

  “Severing is severing, my friend. It is the same whether by death or through some expedited means such as we are discussing. It is extremely dangerous to you. To both of you.” He took another precise sip of tea. “It would really be ideal if we could test it in some way. Before trying the real thing.”

  “Test it?” I stared at him. “How?”

  Vash just looked at me for a moment, his dark eyes thoughtful.

  “He has a very different understanding of the situation, does he not?” the old seer said next. “Between you, I mean. What he thinks is occurring.”

  “Revik?” I said.

  When the seer gestured in affirmative, I frowned.

  “Well… yes. I guess he does.” Thinking about Vash’s words, I let out a low snort. “Talk about crazy. He thinks we’re having political differences, Vash. He thinks this whole thing is just some kind of marital spat. He thinks I’m angry about the op in D.C.––”

  “And? Are you not angry about that?”

  “Of course! But that’s hardly the point, is it?” Biting my lip as I realized I’d just snapped at the old seer, I fought my voice lower, shaking my head. “I don’t understand. Weren’t you the one who said ‘no compromises’ before? Weren’t those your exact words, that I couldn’t compromise on this? That it was ‘dangerous’ what I was doing, hoping I might be able to bring him back?”

  “I did say those things, yes,” Vash agreed.

  “You also said I would have to kill him,” I said, feeling my jaw harden. “How can I do that, when I’m bonded to him?” I grunted, thinking about my own words. “Hell, I’m so confused by the connection between us, I can’t even tell if what he’s doing makes sense to me half the time.” I looked up, firming my mouth. “I agree with some of what he says, Vash. The stuff on the feeds… the speeches he gives. They make sense to me.”

  For a long moment, Vash didn’t speak.

  Then he sighed in a kind of purr, setting down his cup before looking at my face.

  “It is dangerous what you have done, Alyson,” Vash said, nodding. “That is very true. And yet,” he added, tilting one hand. “It is your confusion, interestingly enough, that I find so intriguing. And in some ways, perhaps a little hopeful.”