“Second-most valuable,” he says, winking.
Galaith chuckles, patting Terian on the back with one hand.
“Yes,” he says. “It was Terian here who petitioned hardest for your recruitment, Rolf. Brother Terian is most anxious to see what you can do. He may have created a bit of a reputation for you in advance, I’m afraid. One you may have to defend in not too long a time.”
His smile grows more visible as he discerns Revik’s involuntary reaction to his words.
“I, too, am anxious to witness these talents, cousin,” he says. “Indeed, I am. Most anxious.”
A flush of warmth grows in some part of Revik that doesn’t need to feel much else.
He is still thinking, turning over this spark in his mind, when the walls around me fall once more into black.
14
VOW
I CHOKE… CHOKED… am choking… caught inside a fisted clutch of light, an egg-shaped pocket that holds me unflinchingly in place.
Inside that heated glow, I birth.
Stars swim past me in a pale swath, sky broken by sharp eyes and lightning flashes, snaking charges of gold and orange and crimson, the late side of the setting sun.
I am with him again.
I have never left him.
Now we lie together on a bed, wrapped into and around one another, alone in a single room in a building full of seers. I know I am supposed to be like them. I know I’m supposed to be the same as those women I met when we came in off the street––yet he is the only one here who feels at all like me. His breath warms my skin, his fingers wrap around me, stroking my face and neck and hair, stroking my arms and fingers and lips.
The pain between us worsens, a spike that arcs, starting as a gentle pull before it keens steeply up, inexorable, becoming gradually more unbearable, until I am sure my insides will be ripped out, torn into so many pieces there is nothing left.
Beyond where I lay, a golden ocean beckons. It is familiar.
Even more familiar than the mountains we share, the grief over our pasts.
He is there, too.
I’m sorry, he says. I did this. I did this to you. I’m sorry––
Shhh. My voice is steady, somehow apart from the lights clashing, the ghosts winging over both of our heads. Revik, it's all right.
Don't leave me, Allie. Don't leave me alone with this.
I feel confusion on him, confusion in his own words, what he means by them. The feeling intensifies though; his hands tighten on my skin.
The pain worsens, too, making it hard to see.
Still, my own words come easily, without thought or regret.
I won't, I tell him. I never will.
There is a question in this. The question shocks his heart.
I am asking him for something. My light is, anyway. I can’t say it’s a conscious question, not fully, but the intensity behind it is real, and it feels entirely like me.
I am asking him for something.
I want a promise from him. A vow.
I want him to give himself to me.
It is nonsense, what I am asking of him, but I don’t withdraw the question, nor try to qualify it in any way with words. I only wait, seeing what he will say. Before I’ve fully understood either the question or the possible answers he might give, he’s agreed.
A surrender lives in that agreement.
I feel shame there, too, like he knows he should say no, but he cannot––will not. He clasps my fingers, and I see tears in his eyes. They bewilder me, touch me sharply through the pain and he pulls me closer until…
He kisses me. It is a brief kiss. Clumsy. Awkward. Yet it is tender, too. Meaning lives there, more meaning than I can comprehend. I feel him agree again, and it feels final that time. It is absolute. He is certain now.
The vow is set. It is more than a promise.
It feels like an ending and a beginning, all at once.
Even as I think it, the night sky disappears. Above us, light weaves into complicated patterns, in and out like a shuttlecock between silk threads. I have a fleeting impression of time removed. The weaving of the threads grows more and more complicated, more subtle, more beautiful and intimate and more connected to my heart.
I watch a painting form in that vastness of sky, a painting of fiery, diamond light, in a pattern too breathtaking for words. My struggle stops, even as the pain I felt before melts into warm breath, a feeling of ending, of beginning.
I know, somehow. This is familiar to me.
I feel it in him, too, that surge of familiar.
The feeling is so heart-wrenching, so intense, I cannot see anything else.
He belongs to me. He belonged to me before I asked the question.
We know one another here, and a timelessness lives in that knowing, something that lives so far from my conscious mind it feels almost alien. That deep sense of familiar is something I can’t explain to myself, something I understand without words, without really understanding it at all.
Something is… different.
I don’t know it yet, but it will never be the same again.
15
CHANGE
I SAT IN a window, balanced toe to heel on a white painted wooden sill.
My butt had started to numb in the twenty or so minutes since I first fixed my perch, but I didn’t move from the narrow ledge as I looked out the rain-splattered window. Through the glass lived a world of gray, with charcoal streets and sad-looking trees breaking up long swaths of sidewalk.
A man walked by in a tarp of a raincoat, pushing a shopping cart filled with cans and covered with a blue tarp. He glanced up at the window.
I held my breath, frozen as he stared at me, but his face looked resigned, his eyes blurred by rain. Gripping the cart’s handlebars, he resumed pushing it down the street, his expression unchanging.
A long, slow, questioning tug slid through my belly.
My eyes closed. I winced in pain.
He was looking for me. That tug grew urgent briefly, filled with longing. Then it faded back, pulled somewhere else.
I glanced over at the bed, without turning my head.
Above him hung the tapestry where an angry-faced blue god rode a lion, tongues of flame circling its head in bright oranges and reds. My eyes shifted to the tapestry nearer to me, the one depicting a golden buddha with multiple faces. Crowning the stack of extra heads hung a delicate, androgynous face exuding golden light.
Revik moved then, and my eyes drifted reluctantly down.
He slept on his back, arms and legs sprawled, his hands and fingers open. I studied the softness of his expression and felt that tugging, longing sensation return, urgent this time, enough to bring the nausea back in a warm flood.
I’d woken to the feeling, and him wrapped around me, half crushing me with his arms and body in sleep. I’d been careful of his hurt shoulder without thinking about it much, but I’d been wrapped around him just as tightly. My face had rested in the hollow of his neck, one of my legs curled around and between his. My arm had been slung around his waist, clasping his bare back, my fingers caressing his skin.
I’d been pulling on him unconsciously, as much as he had been me.
It had felt completely natural that his fingers were tangled in my hair, that he’d tugged me closer with that same hand, his mouth brushing my temple in sleep. When I’d stroked his bare arm and chest, caressing his fingers, he let out a low sound, enough to wake me for real.
It was also enough to get me swiftly out of his bed when I realized parts of him were awake ahead of his mind.
Since then, he’d been looking for me with his light. It wasn’t enough to wake him, just enough to make me sick.
I still hadn’t left.
I couldn’t decide why, but my reasons for staying felt irrational, even to me.
I was starving. I needed a shower like I’d never needed one before. I smelled like filthy lake water and my hair had the consistency of matted straw. I wanted clean clothes. I als
o could be talking to the other seers, the friendlier ones, anyway, trying to find out more about my mom, Jon and Cass, and what they’d been showing on the feeds about me and Revik.
Instead I was here, watching him sleep.
I couldn’t seem to make myself leave, even now that I had to go to the bathroom.
Feeling eyes on me, I turned.
When I saw that we weren’t alone, I started, half-sliding off my window perch.
Ullysa smiled at me from the doorway, looking like an old movie still with her hair piled on her head and a powder-blue gown clinging to her hips. Turning away from me, she scrutinized Revik clinically.
Without thinking about why, I hopped the rest of the way off the sill and crossed the room, drawing the woman’s eyes back to me.
Ullysa frowned, exuding a faint puzzlement.
That puzzlement didn’t dissipate as she turned to study my light with the same narrow-eyed stare she’d trained on Revik.
“What?” I said quietly when I reached her.
Ullysa shook her head. Then her face broke into a smile of such sincerity that I was taken aback.
“He is better,” she said, clasping my arm with warm fingers. “I am relieved. You did very well with him.”
I blinked into the woman’s violet eyes. “Oh,” I said. “Good. Yes, he seemed better.” Glancing at Revik, I looked away, fighting embarrassment without knowing what it stemmed from precisely. Keeping my expression as nonchalant as possible, I met her gaze. “Look, is there any way I could borrow some clothes? I’m starving too, and a shower—”
“Yes! Yes. Of course!” Ullysa squeezed my arm, exuding more warmth. “You may have whatever you wish while you are here, Bridge Alyson! Anything at all!”
I smiled back, a little unnerved by her enthusiasm. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back, once I—”
“No. No, no.” The seer waved this off, making a sharp line in the air with her fingers. “There is no need for that. The honor is ours. And Revi' is an old friend.”
My eyes shifted involuntarily to the bed.
I found myself remembering some key details from the day before, things I’d managed to skirt in my mind all morning. In particular, I remembered how the other seers had talked about him. I remembered the jealousy I’d felt on Kat. I remembered other things I’d felt on Kat, too––she’d clearly wanted me to know she and Revik had some kind of sexual relationship.
Watching his expression tighten briefly in sleep, along with the fingers of one of his hands, I sighed, more internally than on the outside.
“Yeah,” I said belatedly. “I caught that. That you knew him.”
When I glanced back, Ullysa was staring at me again, her odd-colored eyes glowing. She didn’t stare at my face, though; instead, her focus hovered somewhere just above my head, her eyes holding a kind of wonder. The same intensity and precision shifted back to Revik.
I fidgeted with the doorjamb as she looked at him. It occurred to me that I didn’t want her getting too close to him, not even with her eyes.
Abruptly, Ullysa’s violet irises clicked back into focus.
She bowed, her expression still holding wonder.
“Of course, sister. My apologies. Truly.”
I wrapped my arms around my waist, shrugging.
It occurred to me I didn’t know exactly what she was apologizing for.
Ullysa spoke before I could. “How is it that you are feeling yourself, sister?”
I noticed her accent had lost some of its human-like cadence. Maybe she had relaxed around me some. Or maybe it had something to do with whatever clearly bothered yet excited her about me and Revik.
“I’m fine.” I tried to unclench my fists, to relax that reflexive but alien vigilance. I couldn’t. “I’m fine. Just…” I glanced at Revik, stifling the impulse to step directly between him and the woman’s eyes. “I’m fine,” I repeated a third time, succumbing to the impulse by moving a half-step to my right. “Just tired, I guess. Hungry. In desperate need of a shower.”
Ullysa smiled. “Please make yourself at home. We can supply you with anything you need during your stay.”
“Stay?” I felt my face tighten. “How long will we be staying here?”
Ullysa smiled. Her voice turned briefly business-like.
“You two are safe for now,” she said. “But they found no bodies. In future, if you wish to fake your deaths, I suggest you consult Revi’ first.”
Her smile crept out wider, and didn’t seem to have any relation to her actual words.
“The Rooks know you are here,” she said. “They at least know you were seen together in Seattle. They know about the stolen headset. It is good you left that in the taxi.”
She added cheerfully, “It is better that we wait until they are not watching every route in and out of the city. We are sending seers starting today, to begin to create false trails.”
Watching my eyes, she grinned again.
“Do you have a passport, Bridge Alyson?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“That is easily fixed. Vash also suggested you might use this time to learn more about why you are here. To begin your training.”
I glanced at Revik, feeling his light looking for mine again. I pushed it aside gently, focusing back on the woman.
“Where will I go that I need a passport?” I said.
“There are many places, Bridge Alyson.” The woman’s smile turned back to a grin. “Revi’s home is not in this country.”
I flushed, hearing the teasing behind this. The woman must have felt his pull.
“Where does he live? Germany, or—”
“No,” Ullysa said, surprised. “Not Germany. Not for many years. He lived in Russia also, I believe.” Thinking, she brushed this off. “Currently, he lives in London. He has maintained a residence there for at least five or six years.” She paused, smiling at me warmly again. “And it is no trouble at all to keep my light from his, Bridge Alyson. I completely understand.”
My face grew hotter.
Succumbing to the impulse again, I stepped a little more firmly into the woman’s line of sight to Revik.
Rather than causing offense, something in the gesture seemed to touch the other woman immensely. She startled me by touching my face, then kissing my cheek.
She turned as if to leave… then abruptly stopped.
I tensed before my mind supplied me with a reason.
Still polite, Ullysa glanced over my shoulder, a glimmer of asking permission inherent in the brevity of the peek.
“Revi’, darling. Did we wake you?”
His answer was low, but his deep voice made me jump, almost cringe.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
I took a breath, turned––and found his eyes locked on me. The look in them was narrow, cold, with a veiled hostility that took me aback.
The hostility was unmistakably aimed at me.
Ullysa didn’t seem to notice. “Of course you are.” She smiled. “And congratulations, Revi’. I am touched. Very touched. Good hunting, friend.”
Seeing that Ullysa was close to tears above her smile, I glanced again at Revik, feeling my nerves turn into actual fear when I saw his face. His skin had darkened; it was clear he knew exactly what Ullysa was talking about and didn’t appreciate the comment at all.
He averted his gaze when it caught mine, folding his arms across his chest.
I couldn’t take my eyes off his face.
Was he blushing?
He bowed slightly to Ullysa. “Thank you.”
Wiping her cheek, the woman smiled, then turned to go.
I found I couldn’t follow her out fast enough. Before I made it through the door, however, Ullysa turned, looking at me in surprise.
“Alyson. Where are you going?”
I froze. “Passport. Eggs. Shower…”
“Why don’t you stay here?” she suggested. “We will bring food for you bot
h. It is too early for passports… and the shower can wait.”
I felt cornered. I glanced at Revik. His eyes were trained out the window, as gray as the sky. I looked back to Ullysa.
“No, actually, it can’t wait. The shower, I mean. Besides, I have to go to the bathroom. And I thought I might talk to you, and maybe some of the others.”
Ullysa’s eyes grew puzzled. “About what? We told you all of the news we knew last night. Nothing has changed since then.”
My jaw tightened. “Well, about the Bridge thing, then. Maybe you can explain what that means to you seers. You know, before I accidentally kill everyone on the planet.”
“I can talk to you about that,” Revik spoke up.
Startled, I glanced at him.
He continued to train his eyes out the window. Mine fell involuntarily to his bare upper body, taking in the leanness of his long frame and the banded muscle of his arms, a pale lattice of scars that crept up over one shoulder. He had an armband tattoo just above one bicep, I noticed, something I’d glimpsed when he started taking off his shirt in that park, without really seeing it. It looked like some kind of writing in black and gold lettering.
I saw the edge of what might have been another tattoo on the shoulder of the same side. He also had the standard barcode tat on his right arm, along with the “H” mark he’d shown me in the car, designating his race-cat.
His body without clothes looked somehow older than the rest of him.
That definitely wasn’t a bad thing, from my perspective.
I saw his fingers tighten on his upper arm, and looked away.
“Stay, if you want.” His voice remained flat, formally polite. “Shower, then come back.”
“No,” I said. “You should rest. I can annoy someone else with my questions for a while.” Seeing him about to answer, I said, “It’s fine, Revik. And I know your friends will want to see you.” I glanced down again. “Especially when you’re not wearing a shirt.”
His eyes seemed to flinch.
Staring at his long countenance, I found myself briefly lost there.
His eyes were still angry on the surface, but I could almost see the openness beneath, a vulnerability so much the opposite of his usual expression that I couldn’t help but stare. Remembering him pulling on me moments before, the softness of his face as he held me in sleep, I blinked at the two images superimposed over one another.
Rook (Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #1): Bridge & Sword World Page 15