Sword

by JC Andrijeski

  “It’s nothing. Promise.”

  “Liar.” She yanked on his arm again when he started to pull away. “Revik! You said you wouldn’t freak out. You said you wouldn’t. You said you wanted it.” She bit her lip and his light reacted sharply, his eyes dropping to her mouth. “I did it for you. You know that, right? I thought you wanted that… to bond me to the group.”

  He just stared at her for a moment.

  Then he realized what she meant.

  Tracing his thoughts back to their origins, he even wondered if she might be right.

  He forced himself to exhale, to relax. Settling his weight back on the mattress, he turned to her again, studying her high-cheekboned face. Letting his eyes drift over hers, he fingered the hair off her cheek, opening his light. He saw relief touch her expression, but the worry remained there as she looked from one of his eyes to the other.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, soft.

  “But why?” she said. “What is it?” She sat up, and he felt his body react again when she sat there naked next to him. She kissed his face, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “I thought it was nice,” she murmured in his ear. “The you and me part. I thought we finally, you know…” She hesitated a half-beat, kissing his ear, using her tongue. “It felt like things changed with us again. In a good way, I mean… especially at the end.”

  He didn’t move as she stroked his hair and the back of his neck.

  He thought about her words, though.

  Her fingers explored his chest then, and he felt her light darting out in pale pulses, softening his heart. He let her open him gradually, even as his light followed how subtly she did it, how much more sophisticated she’d gotten at pulling him into her.

  “Revik,” she said softly. “Revik…” She kissed his ear, and he felt his groin react, even as his breathing grew more shallow. She shook him lightly by the shoulders, kissing him again. “Revik,” she said softer. “Revik. Please. Talk to me.”

  He clenched his jaw, staring out over the view of the canyon.

  “Did you mean it?” he said finally.

  “Mean what?”

  “What you said. About how you’d never fuck anyone else again.”

  His voice came out bitter. Harsher than he’d intended.

  She flinched, raising her head. Her fingers were on his face then, caressing his neck, and he felt himself softening, in spite of himself.

  “Yes,” she said. “You know I meant it.”

  He felt his jaw harden. Anger welled up in him again, sharp enough that he couldn’t control it briefly. She must have felt it, because she pulled at it, coaxing it out of him. When it started to slip through his fingers, he looked at her, feeling his chest hurt, throbbing under his ribs. Her light jade eyes met his, serious in the early sun.

  “Why do you want me to feel this, Allie?”

  “Because you’ll never get over it until you do.”

  “What makes you think I’ll get over it at all?”

  “Do you want to hit me?” she said. “Would that help?”

  There was a silence while he stared at her, incredulous.

  “No.” His eyes flickered to her mouth, then back to hers. “Did it help you?”

  She frowned. “No.” Still looking at him, she sighed. “Not at all, actually.”

  He bit his lip again, wanting to yell at her, to tell her everything he’d been thinking before she woke up. More than anything, he wanted to know why he hadn’t felt them together.

  Something about that bothered him more than the rest. Maybe if he’d been a part of it, even peripherally, he’d have something more concrete to work with––even if it made everything worse at the time. At least he’d have something other than his imagination and the whispers of emotion he discerned in her light.

  “Are you pissed off at Wreg?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No.” He paused, trying to smile. “I do want to hit him, though.”

  She smiled. “Why? For getting off on watching us?”

  “No.” His voice hardened again. “For wanting my wife.”

  She rolled her eyes, sliding her arms deeper around his neck. “If that’s the criteria, I’d have to punch out your whole squad.”

  He continued to look at her, frustrated, and still angry. She watched his face cautiously, and he could tell from her eyes she felt it.

  “What do you want me to do, Revik?” she said.

  “I want you to have never slept with him.”

  He saw her eyes wince, right before they shifted away. She tugged her arms from around his neck, retracting her light.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, blunt. He wasn’t though.

  “Revik,” she sighed. She rubbed her eyes. “Please. Please believe me on this. He isn’t a threat to you. I swear to the gods, he isn’t.”

  “You don’t even believe in the gods, Allie.”

  “What do you want?” she said, frustrated. “What do you want me to say right now?”

  “Will you be angry with me, if I kill him?” he said.

  There was a silence.

  She looked up, her eyes widening a little. “What?”

  He averted his gaze back to the window, feeling his jaw harden until it hurt. He didn’t want to see her emotional reaction if she thought he might be serious. He’d seen the fear there, in that brief instant, and that had been enough.

  “Forget it,” he said. “I didn’t mean it, Allie.”

  He felt another whisper of her fear, and had to clench his jaw to remain silent.

  “I have to go,” he said. Without looking at her, he rose to his feet. Feeling her about to speak, he cut her off before she could. “––We’ll talk more later. I really do have to go, Allie. I’m late to see Salinse. It shouldn’t take long.”

  After the barest pause, she nodded, tugging the sheet back around herself.

  He only looked at her once more before he left.

  She hadn’t moved from the bed, but watched him with those jade green eyes, a wary look on her face as she scanned his light.

  43

  ADVICE

  REVIK BARELY HEARD most of what Salinse said in the first twenty or so minutes of their interview. He spoke, but more in rote, and found himself staring at the fire for a few seconds too long between each of the old seer’s questions. He told himself it was to clarify his words, but mostly, he just didn’t want to be there.

  He knew Allie didn’t like the old man.

  He’d even found it touching in a way, mostly because he’d picked up on inklings of her reasons. For one, he’d caught her thinking that Salinse acted like he owned him.

  More than anything, though, she hated him because of Menlim.

  Revik had to remind himself sometimes, that she’d witnessed a fair chunk of his childhood while studying the Barrier in Tarsi’s cave.

  Glancing down at the stone tile floor, he focused briefly on the sword and sun mosaic. Pale blue slate stood beside the gold, marbled rock of the sun’s center. White crystal made up the sword bisecting the middle of the gold circle, patterned with ribbons of some other clear stone. The room itself was almost an exact replica of the Rebel Headquarters office Menlim used during World War I.

  Glancing around at the antique furniture, he supposed Allie had a point.

  Frowning, he shifted in his seat as he folded his arms. Depending on what she’d seen, Allie probably had good reason to feel the way she did. If anyone had treated her like that as a child, he would kill them. No question.

  Still, he didn’t feel that way about the old man himself.

  And anyway, Salinse wasn’t Menlim.

  As for Menlim himself, Revik couldn’t really say why it didn’t bother him more. Maybe because, in the end, he understood why Menlim had done the things he’d done. He didn’t condone his methods, but, as an adult, he understood them.

  Still frowning faintly, Revik studied the face of the old seer across from him.

  Salinse really did look remarkably
like Menlim.

  His eyes shone an opaque white instead of Menlim’s dark yellow. He bore a slightly more rounded jawline, and slightly lowered cheekbones. Yet Salinse’s face managed to retain every bit of the skeleton-like quality of Menlim’s skin-stretched-over-bone countenance.

  In fact, staring up at him, Revik found himself understanding Allie’s perception in a whole new light. She looked at Salinse and saw the man who’d tortured her husband as a child, and turned him into a killer.

  Swallowing thickly, he averted his gaze.

  “…Nephew.”

  Revik realized Salinse had been silent for a few seconds at least.

  He turned his head, meeting the old man’s stare.

  “Are you going to tell me what is bothering you?” Salinse said. “Or shall I be forced to continue to guess?”

  The old Sark re-laced his long fingers on the tops of bony thighs, resting them on the thick cloth of the long robe he wore. He continued to study Revik’s expression, his own inscrutable, despite the whisper of concern Revik felt in his light. Revik noted the harder flavor under that concern, as well, the level scrutiny in those opaque, white-irised eyes.

  He wondered that he was seeing the old man differently all of a sudden.

  “No,” Revik said. “I’m not going to tell you. Do you need anything more from me, uncle?”

  Salinse just looked at him, his white irises unmoving.

  “I respect your wish for privacy, nephew.” His voice softened. “But you are not dismissed. For if you have nothing to say to me, I have something to say to you.”

  Revik felt his body tense. “Can it wait?” He gestured deferentially to the old seer. “I mean no disrespect. I am not in the mood for a long talk today.”

  “No,” the old seer said. “It cannot wait, nephew.”

  He paused, staring levelly into Revik’s face.

  “However,” he added. “I will do you the courtesy of being direct, dear friend.”

  Revik felt his jaw harden more.

  Still, he motioned an acquiescence. He didn’t have a lot of choice, short of breaking protocol and showing disrespect. He’d let the old man give his lecture or words of advice or whatever couldn’t wait, and then he would go for a walk by himself, look at the cliffs for awhile in the sun before heading back.

  Even as it whispered through his mind, he realized he wanted her to come with him. Anger touched his light at the realization, but it didn’t change anything.

  Salinse let out a sigh, bringing Revik’s eyes back to his. Clicking in a near-purr that still somehow wasn’t soft, he gestured smoothly with one long-fingered hand.

  “I wish for nothing but happiness for you and your bride, Illustrious Syrimne,” he said, his voice holding regret. If he noticed Revik stiffen, he didn’t react. “I wish that very much. In all of the time I have known you, nephew, I have wanted that for you… more than anything else. I knew how badly you wanted it in your youth. I knew the very idea of her got you through some of those dark times, whether that idea was realistic or not.”

  Revik didn’t speak, but felt his throat close a little.

  Salinse met his gaze directly. “Yet she is still a mortal being down here, Illustrious Brother. Still fallible. Still prone to certain immaturities and excesses… especially at her young age.”

  Revik didn’t answer that, either.

  “I watched her too, you know,” the old seer added. “Not as closely as you did, of course, especially in those early years… but I feel I know her in some ways, your Bridge.”

  Revik looked away. A surge of emotion caught him off guard, making it hard to hold his expression still. He remembered following her as a child, and again as she got older, and the pain worsened. There were times, even then, even not knowing who he was––

  He fought to push it from his mind, even as a memory of her, the one time he’d gotten near her when she was small, swam to the forward part of his consciousness. He’d scared off a group of boys who’d been teasing her. She’d attracted unwanted attention even then.

  He remembered her looking up at him, her green eyes catching the sun. She hadn’t been afraid of him. Even then, she hadn’t been afraid.

  When the old man didn’t go on, he nodded, wiping his face with one hand.

  “You want to say something uncle.” His voice came out gruff. “So say it.”

  “I am not trying to distress you, nephew,” Salinse said.

  “Just say it.”

  Salinse sighed, clicking in regret.

  “In all of that time of watching her, nephew, I paid particular attention to her motives. You see, what matters to me, more than anything, is that I understand why my brothers and sisters do what they do… even the intermediaries with whom I’ve been blessed to cross paths.”

  The old seer made a respectful gesture with one hand.

  Revik bit back impatience, but didn’t voice it. When he still said nothing, Salinse smiled, his eyes verging on kindly.

  “Do not misunderstand me, brother Syrimne. Throughout the vast majority of the time I’ve observed your mate––at least since she has known her true nature––it strikes me that she has wanted nothing more than to do what is best for our people. Even though I was not always in full agreement with the means and strategies she employed, I believed that. I believed her to be honest. Loyal. Well meaning in her intentions. I believed her, in fact, to be a person who acted with a very high degree of integrity.”

  He sighed again, his voice still holding regret.

  “I also thought she would have sooner died than betray you, nephew.”

  Revik’s jaw turned to stone. His fingers curled into fists under his biceps where he had his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t move his gaze from the fire, but felt the old seer staring at his face, studying his reactions.

  “However,” Salinse said. “There are things here that do not add up, my brother.”

  Revik looked over, in spite of himself, feeling his body tense.

  Salinse held up a hand, as if to forestall something he saw in his face.

  “I do not blame you for missing it, nephew,” he said. “You are blinded by your feelings for her. That much is obvious, and more than a little touching. None of us wanted to take that from you, not after how much you have been forced to suffer in waiting for her.”

  The old man hesitated, his white eyes opaque.

  “…And now you are confused, are you not?” he said. “By your attempt to bond her with the rest of your team last night?”

  Revik felt anger spark through his light, until he could barely see the old man.

  Clicking mildly, the Sark softened his gaze. “I understand why you did that, too, my son. I have absolutely no judgment of the event. But you must understand––you were not ready to do this with her. There must be a high degree of trust between mates before they can share light in such a way. She had betrayed you too recently for you to be able to tolerate her giving her light to other seers… even your own people.”

  Lowering his voice, he met Revik’s gaze directly.

  “You may have hurt yourself needlessly with this, I’m afraid.”

  Revik swallowed. Still, he nodded as he thought about the other’s words.

  Tilting his hand cautiously, Salinse added, “However, I cannot help but think it is a good thing… this appraisal you are doing of her intentions with you.”

  At this, Revik’s gaze swiveled back to his. His words came out hard.

  “I had thought you said you would be direct, uncle.” Heat flared in his light, almost more than he could pull back. “You think she’s untrustworthy, is that it? That she’ll betray me? Fuck Wreg? What?”

  “No… no, no, no, nephew.” Salinse clicked in dismay, holding up his hands. “Please, brother. Calm yourself. I am not implying anything at all about her loyalty to you as a mate.”

  “Then what the fuck are you implying?”

  Salinse’s face grew unreadable once more. The white eyes met Revik’s.
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  “Balidor,” he said, blunt.

  Revik flinched, feeling his light spark out in reaction.

  “You wish me to be more direct?” Salinse said. “All right. I will be. I think you have underestimated the power of this individual, nephew. Perhaps you do not realize the ways in which your wife’s viewpoint may have been manipulated through his not inconsiderable skills as an infiltrator.”

  When Revik tensed, Salinse tilted his head, bird-like, his white eyes like a doll’s.

  “You know this,” he added. “But it bears repeating. In actual versus potential skills, Balidor is the highest-ranked infiltrator of any seer we have living. He is higher in skill than any in the generation previous. His abilities in this area exceed those of any seer in this compound. Including me.” He paused. “Including you, my son.”

  He gave Revik a regretful look.

  “Your potential may outweigh his, even by a considerable span, but your actual does not. Not yet. Nor does your wife’s. He is better than you, nephew. You need to realize this.”

  Revik glared at him. “What is your point, Salinse?”

  Salinse leaned back on the bench, gauging his face.

  “I prefer to think she has been led astray, your wife,” he said. “That she has simply been overpowered by a seer whose abilities far outweigh her own. If that is the case, then we can certainly help her. Perhaps it is the foolish old man in me who believes this still to be a strong possibility––that the situation can still turn out happily for all of us. I wish that more than anything, my son. I hope and pray that you may never be faced with a terrible choice in that regard… if you were to find her to be permanently corrupted.”

  At Revik’s sharp look, Salinse made a graceful gesture with one hand.

  “It is a very faint possibility, my son. Do not trouble yourself with it.”

  “What exactly do you mean, manipulated by Balidor?” Revik felt his throat close, and forced himself to speak through it. “Manipulated to do what?”

  Salinse shrugged with one hand, seer-fashion.

  “Manipulated to do his bidding, nephew.”