56
THE TRAP
“I DON’T LIKE this,” Wreg muttered, holstering his sidearm with more force than necessary, even as he scowled at the Middle Eastern seer. He gave a bare glance to Jon before he looked back at Loki. “He told you to come back here? On this side of the line? Why?”
Loki remained characteristically expressionless.
He shook his head once, slowly, as if thinking, his dark eyes focused on the sand dunes that rose past them, stretching off into the distance as far as Jon’s eyes could see. The dunes glowed softly, even in the darkness of a moon-less sky, their shadows purple and dark blue.
Loki seemed lost there, in that expanse of softly rolling sand.
After another pause, he looked back at the two of them.
“I cannot say for certain––” he began, his words measured.
“You cannot say for certain?” Wreg cut in, his voice holding disbelief. “What the fuck’s that supposed to––”
Jon held up a hand, silencing Wreg as he stared at Loki’s face.
“You can’t say for certain,” Jon repeated. “But what do you think, Loki? What is it you felt on him, when he gave the order?”
Loki exhaled more forcefully, as close to an expression of frustration as Jon had ever heard on him. The seer frowned as his eyes went back to scanning the dunes.
“I do not know, brothers,” Loki said then. “Truly. It is an impression only. On the surface he appeared to be complying with the Rook’s demands. Perhaps that is all it was, in which case, we are here because Terian demanded it.”
“What impression?” Wreg said, glancing at Jon. “What did you feel?”
He’d picked up on whatever Jon noticed, and was now following his lead.
“Can you show us, brother?” Wreg said. “The thing that struck you in this way?”
Exhaling again, Loki nodded.
They stood outside the city’s outer walls. Jon, along with Wreg and the rest of their military unit, had been instructed to enter through the back gates in less than an hour, if they didn’t get any kind of signal telling them otherwise.
Then Loki appeared, and told them to postpone that entry. But Loki being back here at all ran counter to every scenario they’d run with Allie and Revik back on the carrier.
Loki said Revik now wanted them to wait until he contacted them personally before they entered the city, regardless of what they heard from Balidor. He’d given no reason for the change. Moreover, he’d given no real reason for Loki and the others to leave the city limits, versus waiting inside the city gates where they could provide real back-up.
Loki went on to explain that Revik had lost Allie somehow––somewhere after they’d arrived on the docks. He’d still been without her when he reached the rendezvous point with Loki’s team near the center of Old Town, but he’d had a lead on where she was. Now, apparently, he had Allie back with him again, but the detour had taken them on a strange path, one that now involved Terian, the List seers––and possibly Feigran.
“This is only an impression,” Loki cautioned. “It is subjective, brothers.”
Wreg made an acknowledging gesture with his hand, then motioned him forward. “Show us. We can discuss that end of things after.”
Loki sighed, nodding.
Jon saw the flash in Loki’s aleimi. The image hit Jon’s light, a crystalline snapshot of the imprint Loki referenced to show them.
Within it, Jon saw the specific look on Revik’s face, the flavor in his light that Loki noticed, the fleeting impressions of his thoughts, even as he suppressed them, likely in part to keep them out of view inside the construct.
Jon was still turning over what he’d seen and felt, frowning as he tried to think through the implications drawn by Loki in those few seconds, wondering if he’d interpreted it the way Loki meant him to… when Wreg swore from where he stood next to him.
He swore in Mandarin, which he usually only did when he forgot where he was.
Jon glanced at him, pursing his lips. Then, realizing he’d been fighting not to see the truth, he returned his gaze to Loki.
“Revik thinks they’re walking into a trap?” He frowned, looking between the two men. “Why the fuck would he do it, if he thought that?”
Loki shrugged, expressionless.
Even so, his words were matter-of-fact, as if he were pointing out something with the obviousness of the weather.
“They threatened his wife,” he said simply.
Jon’s frown deepened, right before he looked at his own mate.
Wreg looked angry. More than that, he looked powerless, despite the clear understanding in his dark eyes. From what Jon felt, Wreg had seen more in that brief flash of Revik’s light than even Loki had––and moreover, he didn’t want to share what he’d seen, not even with Jon.
“What, Wreg?” Jon said, hearing his own edge.
Wreg looked at him, scowling.
“What, Wreg?” Jon repeated.
“He doesn’t just think they’re walking into a trap,” Wreg said, his voice darker. “That fucker thinks he can use it. He thinks he can turn that trap back on him… after he uses Terian and his wife to draw him out in the open.”
Jon squinted at him, feeling another annoyed frown pull at his mouth. Placing his hands on his hips, he fought to think, shuffling his booted feet in the sand.
“What does that mean?” he said finally.
Wreg gave him a flat look, his black eyes dense. “What do you think it means, brother? He’s going after Menlim. You remember him at those goddamned Towers. He’s going to try and kill that fucker before he can kill his wife… or take his daughter again. He thinks as long as Menlim is alive, his family will never be safe.”
Thinking about Wreg’s words, Jon felt understanding leak through his light, even as he realized the Chinese seer was probably right.
If Revik had any chance to kill Menlim, he would take it.
He would take it, even if it might get him killed.
He might even do it without telling Allie.
57
THE OPEN DOOR
THE FAIRY LIGHTS ended altogether about a dozen yards from the doors leading into the boathouse.
The warehouse-like building loomed over us now, blocking most of our view of the Gulf and throwing a deep shadow on the white stone path. Water lapped the sides of what might have been stilts, or another flotation mechanism from the inlet to our left. I didn’t see any boats, but a row of dinghies were tied to one side of the structure. The only sound was that lapping of water and the occasional thunk of metal on metal or metal on wood.
The walls and roof glowed faintly through my light, even without me reaching out.
With that much organic material, advanced AI––even sentient AI––was a good possibility.
I wondered if the building itself was responsible for projecting the illusion we’d seen before we crossed the threshold into this secondary construct.
I stood there with Revik, silent, along with the rest of our group.
We just watched as Terian and his guards approached the front of the building. The main doors were padlocked together with a winding series of cables. I watched, transfixed, as those cables uncoiled themselves like snakes after Terian used retinal scanners and Barrier codes to disconnect the joining ends.
Then the guards were forcing open the heavy metal doors.
I winced at the screech of metal tracks as they finally slid open. Still, the sound told me at least part of the mechanism consisted of dead metal, not organics. Organics––even semi-organics and other high-grade composites––didn’t rust.
The twin doors opened excruciatingly slow, even under the combined weight and strength of Terian’s guards. I gazed into the widening chasm of dark with the rest of them, shifting my weight on the high-heeled shoes.
Revik gripped my hand tighter where I clasped his arm. We exchanged another look after Terian motioned for us to follow him inside.
Then Revik lowere
d his mouth to my ear.
“I love you,” he murmured, kissing me. “It’ll be all right, Allie.”
I nodded, but something about the way he said it made my throat close.
We were already doing as Terian indicated, though, walking nearly in formation, although no words were exchanged by our small contingent of infiltrators. Glancing around at faces, I found myself wondering where Loki’s team was, where Revik had sent him and the others when he’d pulled them aside––
––but Revik blew the question from my mind.
He did it softly, but perceptibly enough that I killed the thought on my own before it could go anywhere specific.
Our footsteps echoed in the high-ceilinged space.
It was dark inside. Not quite pitch dark––the upper-story windows reflected some light onto the warehouse floor, presumably from the ambient light of the city as well as the stars, the nearby houses and the path lights. I’d noticed only a small sliver of moon in the sky as we drove out here, and it had only just been rising.
The feeling of others being inside this building strengthened as we walked.
Whatever awaited us on the other side, we definitely weren’t alone in here.
Revik squeezed my hand. He felt it, too.
Terian didn’t lead us in a straight line through the cavernous space, primarily because he couldn’t. The further we walked, the more I found it difficult to see much with my physical eyes. Storage crates broke our pathway into multiple lines, some of them stacked almost to the ceiling despite its great height. The deeper we descended into those rows, the harder it was to see, since they often cut off even the small amount of light from the windows.
It created an odd, off-kilter progression through what felt more and more like a maze. I used my light to track every twist and turn, in the event we needed to backtrack the same way out without a guide, but I still found it disorienting.
Terian seemed to know where he was going, however.
Around the time I could feel we’d passed the halfway point of the boathouse’s length, I could hear them.
Most of it sounded like shuffling, like animals in cages.
I heard them through the echoes, thinking at first it must be rats. Gradually, it felt and sounded more like the movement of bare feet on a dusty floor.
My heart started to beat faster in my chest. I had to fight not to walk faster, even as I kept at least half of my attention on Terian, and on what I could feel of him as he passed through the dark in front of us. He continued to wind his way through the high stacks of crates, occasionally disappearing through curtain-like cloths hanging down over more crates, only to reveal more narrow, twisting passageways.
He clearly hadn’t wanted anyone stumbling on his “guests” by accident.
We’d all dropped the civilian gaits by then, even me in the high heels.
I couldn’t hear Revik at all anymore as he fell back into his normal fight-walk. Even under day-to-day conditions, his regular walk was close to silent.
Now, he moved like a ghost.
His light stilled into silence, too, making him an absence more than a presence even though he walked right beside me. Apart from his hand, which still held onto me tightly, he might not have been there at all.
In front of us, Chinja, Anale, Poresh, Baleur and Dalejem had gone more or less silent as well. Even Jax and Holo’s footsteps muted as they followed directly in our path.
Stanley, who I’d nearly forgotten was with us, as well as Surli, took up the rear with Mansk and Tenzi. I couldn’t help noticing they moved just as quietly as those in front of us, most of whom were Adhipan-trained.
Terian’s guards continued to walk normally, as did Terian himself, who scarcely seemed to notice the change in the rest of us.
As we reached about two-thirds of the length of the warehouse, the space dramatically opened up. My eyes tilted up with it, following the height of the ceiling, its bare bones and high beams suddenly visible through the bluish glow from the upper windows.
As I focused there, a light ignited against the far wall, right at the wall’s base. Little more than a golden glow at first, it rose as we got closer, then began to spread like liquid flame around the corners of the far end of the warehouse and down its length.
Frowning, I wondered why Terian would wait until we were more than halfway through the structure before he bothered to turn on the lights––
Then the thought died.
Rows of cages appeared on either side of the building in front of us. Seeing the eyes reflecting back at me through the rising golden light, I sucked in a breath.
Next to me, Revik’s light flinched, too.
I couldn’t believe how many of them there were.
What had to be several hundred people were crammed into two, long, old-fashioned-looking cages with what looked like composite steel bars.
The cages stood roughly eight feet tall, the thick metal bars spaced only an inch or two apart and clearly of both organic and dead metals from the dark green sheen. The ends of those bars disappeared into the floor of the warehouse on the lower end, and when I looked down, I saw bare feet below an odd variety of clothing styles that spanned from traditional, Chinese and Indian peasant-type attire to full-fledged business suits and party gowns, as well as a number of outfits that looked more military in origin.
Looking across that span of faces and bodies, I wondered how they slept.
I wondered how long most of them had been locked in these cages.
I wondered how many of them had any idea why they were here.
Glancing over the insignias on a few military uniforms, I tried to decide if they belonged to private sec or the remnants of one of the human militaries.
After a few more seconds, I decided it was probably a mixture of both.
Looking at all of those dirt-smudged faces, including those behind hands that clutched at the thick bars, I could only return their stares at first, paralyzed.
They came from all over the world. Looking at them, it really felt like they represented the survivors. The ordinary people, who weren’t ordinary at all.
The last of their respective races.
Our party had come to a stop on the boathouse floor. Dalejem resumed walking after that initial pause, leading the rest of us forward. We all followed him wordlessly, until our entire group stood between the two rows of cages, looking from one set of faces to another.
I noticed a lot of them were looking at Terian, watching him warily.
I also noticed how quiet they were. Silent, really.
Pretty unusual in a group of people this large, whatever their race.
Even as I thought it, Surli muttered from my right, “Why don’t they speak? Why are none of them talking? Asking for help?” Seeing me look at him, he pursed his lips. “Wouldn’t you ask for help? If you were being held prisoner by this crazy fuck?”
Next to him, Stanley, who seemed to have bonded with Surli during their deployment here together, raised a hand to indicate for him to be quiet.
Glancing at Stanley, I gestured briefly that I agreed with him.
Whatever was going on here, I could feel something was wrong.
I glanced at Revik.
Once I had, my uneasiness turned to fear.
He’d gone still, rigid, like an animal listening to a distant sound, scenting a predator on the wind. His light was so heavily cloaked I could barely feel him, but something in his pale eyes grew still as glass, as if he were waiting. As if he expected something to happen.
My fear worsened, the longer I stared at him.
Whatever this was, he expected it.
He’d likely been expecting it before we got here.
I glanced behind us, back through the row of crates. I grew aware of my heart beating harder in my chest, the hair at the back of my neck prickling. I could practically feel someone there, standing directly behind me––but no one was there.
Something was definitely coming, though.
Revik just felt it before the rest of us.
The warehouse fell totally silent, absent now even of the sound of shuffled footsteps and hands touching the bars. With the prisoners standing so still and wordless, I didn’t hear clothing rustle against skin, or the sound of breathing, not even my own.
When Terian spoke, I jumped half a foot.
“I warned you,” he told me sadly. “I warned you, dear, dear sister. I did.”
My eyes jerked to where he stood, only a dozen steps from the boathouse’s far wall. I could hear the water out there, I realized, staring numbly at his face. It sloshed distantly against the metal exterior, a rhythmic pulse I’d managed not to hear until then.
The rest of our party turned to stare at Terian when I did.
Everyone but Revik.
Revik let go of me, stepping in the direction from which we’d come. His eyes, face and light aimed past the rest of us. A flicker of charged light left his aleimi as he stared, pale eyes fixed on the fissure between the tightly stacked crates.
When I met Terian’s gaze, though, I forgot all of that.
He was looking directly at me. I saw grief in his eyes.
More than that, I saw fear.
“I warned you,” he said, softer, clicking sadly. “I warned you, Alyson, dear. I warned you.”
Next to me, Revik tensed. I felt another hot coil of current slide through my light, but I didn’t look away from Terian’s face.
“In through the out door…” he whispered.
A ripple of light crackled through my spine, bringing a flush of deeper fear, so intense I couldn’t think past it. Even so, somehow I knew.
We were already too late.
Just then, another voice boomed through the hollow space behind us.
Every head turned, including every head of every prisoner in the two cages. We all stared into the same crack of dark in that towering wall of crates. My body stiffened, going rigid as a group of uniformed seers began filing out of the narrow opening. They flowed into the cleared space of the warehouse, filling it steadily, like ants pouring out of a hole in the cement.
In the front walked a tall figure wearing all black.
Prophet: Bridge & Sword Page 61