He pauses, raising his head.
…and the man with the chocolate-brown eyes stares back, only now he isn’t smiling.
Lowering his head, he kisses me without hesitation, picking up where Revik left off. It feels different, and not only because I don’t know him. The curtain evaporates, revealing warm light––a different body, less-cautious hands, unambiguous intent.
His arms and chest are larger, his hands smaller, his lips fuller, his tongue thicker. The way he kisses is different. He doesn’t wait for me to ask, barely waits for my answer. His hand slides into the crook of my knee, fingers caressing my thigh as he pulls my leg around his waist. He is inside me, and I hear him groan. He kisses me again…
I feel him breathing hard in the dark, in another room, naked under rough skins, and I know suddenly that it’s not all a dream.
Somewhere, Revik watches. I know it’s not real, that he’s not here anymore.
He’s dead. I know that.
Yet somehow, it still feels like a betrayal.
36
CHALLENGE
I GOT UP before dawn.
When I left my sleeping quarters and wandered outside into new light, the man with the chocolate-colored eyes was the first person I saw. He sat on a wooden step, smoking a hiri, one of the seer cigarettes, a cup of chai resting by his thigh.
I’d spent the night in a sort of cottage, one of many rimming a wide courtyard just below Vash’s main house. Most of the complex lived on a hill directly beneath the entrance Chandre and I used the day before. The courtyard consisted of a large clearing of grass and dirt that started at the edge of those street-facing buildings. A circle of flat white rocks stood in the center, with a white-painted stone cairn in the center of that.
Paths dotted with smaller shrines and shade trees radiated outwards. Even in the dawn chill, seers wandered through those trees, talking in a mixture of languages and hand gestures.
I wondered why they bothered to speak aloud at all, and why there were so many more men than women… then noticed the man with the brown eyes staring at me.
Watching those eyes linger on my bare feet, I made up my mind.
I approached him deliberately, walking straight up to where he sat on the wooden stoop. He didn’t stand when I reached him, and I didn’t sit, but we eyed one another silently.
Unwillings, a voice said in my mind.
I jumped a little. “What?”
You wondered why there are no women. They are sold faster. A bigger market for unwillings. You should know that, Esteemed Bridge.
He took a drag of the seer cigarette, blowing out a perfect smoke ring as he waited for me to catch up. His smile turned wry.
And we speak for the same reason all beings speak, Esteemed Bridge. To be heard.
“Do you speak English?” I said. “Aloud, I mean.”
His lips slid upwards in a perceptible smile. “Yes.”
He had an accent, but I couldn’t place it beyond Asian.
He studied my face, right before his brown eyes flickered down over the thin cotton pants I wore, pausing again on my bare feet.
“Did you…” His smile widened. “…Sleep well, Esteemed Bridge?”
I folded my arms tighter. I motioned towards his sidearm, visible under his jacket. “I take it you’re not a complete pacifist?”
“Does this offend you, Esteemed Bridge?”
I ignored his smile. “You know how to fight? Mulei?”
He smiled again, nodding once. “Yes.”
“Could you teach me?”
I glanced over my shoulder at the other seers in the courtyard. It hadn’t escaped my notice that a number of them stood closer to us than they had a few seconds earlier. They continued to inch closer, to watch and listen to me and the brown-eyed seer talk. Feeling my jaw tighten, I looked back at the smoking seer, shifting my weight on my feet.
“…I need lessons,” I added.
Curiosity flared in his eyes, just visible beneath the amusement. “Why me?”
I sighed, then answered honestly. “You seem like you’d like to hit me. I figured I’d try harder.”
The male seer stared at me. Then he burst into a genuine laugh. He stood up, and while he wasn’t as tall as Revik, I stepped back in alarm.
His smile widened. “Yes,” he said. “I would like to hit you, Bridge. But I need to know if you are worth teaching, first.” He flipped the jacket off his muscular shoulders, exposing a worn gray shirt that stretched over his chest.
When he caught my stare, his smile grew into a grin.
“What do I get, if I put you down?” His eyes flickered down my body again. He gestured towards it vaguely. “Will you let me take care of that thing of yours? The problem your Rook mate left you?”
I didn’t ask what he meant.
“No,” I said. Thinking, I added, “You’ve got two minutes. If I’m still standing, you’ll teach me. You’ll also stay the hell out of my head at night. If I’m not standing, well…” I shrugged, still thinking. “I guess the mind stuff is fair game. And you got to hit the Esteemed Bridge. Consequence-free. That should be reward enough.”
He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.
Watching his face, I hesitated, then figured what the hell.
“…Everything else has to be negotiated separately. Clear?”
His eyes lit up at my words, but he only nodded, stubbing out the hiri with the toe of one threadbare yellow sneaker.
“Okay.” He stepped towards me, bouncing a bit on his heels. “I accept.”
“What’s your name?” I said, when he began to circle me.
“Maygar.” He glanced up from where he’d been looking at my body again. “Oh, and I should tell you. I was assigned a new job today, Bridge.”
“What job was that, Maygar?”
He darted forward, moving so fast I didn’t see anything but a shadowed blur before my vision went red, then abruptly white. I reeled back, fighting to recover from a solid left cross to my right cheek. I ducked as he went for me again, then kicked out, catching him in the stomach hard enough to push him back with the ball of my foot.
He laughed, but gave me the ground.
When he got closer again, I looked for an opening, any opening.
“…I’m your new bodyguard,” he said, winking.
He darted forward, even as it occurred to me that I’d just made a really big mistake.
“MORE TEA?” VASH said, raising the dented pot.
I sat cross-legged on the floor beside him. My face hurt. My arms, hands and legs were bruised, too, and even my tailbone where it perched on a bamboo mat. Two seers had brought in a platter covered with tea, cream, honey and a plateful of small sandwiches, laying everything out on a dark red cloth spread between me and the ancient seer.
I fought the impulse to touch my face in places I could feel the flesh rising. I wanted ice, but hadn’t asked for that, either.
Looking out at the rain falling lightly over the mountains, I glanced reluctantly at the seers sitting around us in a symmetrical ring.
Against the far wall sat Maygar and his friends. Amusement showed on more than one face. I felt their lights flicker around mine like curious moths, woven through with faint flavors of sexuality. When I caught Maygar’s gaze unintentionally, he winked at me, kissing the air before tapping his temple with a forefinger.
Tonight, he whispered in my mind.
Taking a mouthful of cucumber sandwich, I chewed, gripping a tea cup in my other hand. More than anything, I wished it held coffee.
Vash laughed, startling me.
“Of course! You are American now.”
He glanced at another seer, who rose at once and disappeared through a cloth-covered doorway.
“Is this Indian breakfast?” I said.
His lips twitched in humor. “Elevenses, perhaps.”
Fans rotated overhead with round, leaf-like blades, pushing cool, rain-smelling air through the room.
Vash patted my kn
ee. “How do you like India, dear friend?”
“I like the cows. And the mountains.” I looked around at the smooth-faced seers, avoiding Maygar’s corner. “Am I a prisoner here?”
Vash swept his smile away. “Not at all.” His voice grew troubled. “Do you wish to leave?” Leaning closer, he asked in barely a whisper, “…Or perhaps you would like some ice?”
I glanced around at the expressionless seers. “I want to find my brother,” I said, feeling my face warm. Somehow, the words felt overly personal here, with all of these strangers staring at me. I plowed on anyway. “And my friend, Cass. They’re missing.”
“Are you so certain they are not dead?”
He didn’t say it to hurt me, or even to throw doubt on whether they were alive. The question felt sincere, and completely guileless. Even so, my jaw seemed to stick in my sandwich. Setting my tea cup down on the tray, I forced myself to swallow what was left in my mouth. I cleared my throat, looking directly into Vash’s eyes.
“No. I need to know for sure, though. Maybe that’s delusional, but—”
“Ah.” Vash’s dark eyes grew thoughtful. “I was not implying that.” He paused. “Do they have meaning, these numbers? The ones I see around you now?”
I glanced away from Maygar, looking up at Vash.
Watching his nearly black eyes stare intently over my head, I felt my chest constrict, even though I saw nothing but curiosity in his gaze.
“No,” I began, then adjusted my words. “Well… honestly, I don’t know.” I paused, then tried to be more honest still. “They feel like they mean something, but I have no idea what. It started on the ship. Right when everything bad was going down.”
“Ah,” Vash said.
He smiled at me. His long, white face erupted in fine wrinkles. “Your husband mentioned to me that your prescience often expresses itself in your art.” He paused, waiting. “Is that true, Esteemed Bridge?”
“My…” I repeated numbly.
“…Husband, yes. Dehgoies Revik.”
He smiled as I fumbled for a facial expression. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d misunderstood me on purpose.
His eyes grew kind.
“Of necessity, we spoke often of your latent abilities,” he said, patting my knee affectionately. “Truthfully, we often argued about this, too. He had difficulty understanding why you were not pulled for training sooner.” Noting my bewilderment, he smiled wider. “Ah. This surprises you. Yes. Revik was not always the most forthcoming man.”
Before I could answer, the seer with the bare feet reentered the room, holding a steaming cup that smelled deliciously of dark roast coffee. He set it down by my bent knee, bowing to me with one raised palm, like a salute.
“Thanks,” I said to him, meaning it. Taking another sniff of the coffee, I raised the paper cup and sipped carefully. “I draw pyramids,” I said, looking up at Vash. “Both Chandre and Revik said they are pretty accurate depictions of the Rooks’ network. Do you want me to go get them?”
Vash continued to study my eyes. “Perhaps later.”
For a long moment, we just listened to the rain. I sipped more coffee.
Eventually, I cleared my throat.
“So, this Pyramid,” I said. “Can you explain that? Revik, he…” I cleared my throat. “Dehgoies, I mean. He told me some. He said you would tell me more.”
Vash seemed almost to have been waiting for the question.
“A pyramid,” he said at once. “Being a three-dimensional shape, can be only a symbol, of course. The actual network is of the Barrier and contains a form of shifting dimensionality that marries properties of both partial and non-dimensionality.”
My fingers clasped my hurt knee. “Ah,” I said. “Sure.”
Vash smiled in understanding. “The Rooks’ seers live inside a construct, Alyson. They live in it all the time. Unlike the constructs you’ve seen my people use, theirs is not anchored in the physical world. It lives with a race of beings who aid them from the Barrier.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, understanding that part, at least.
He looked at me inquiringly.
“I met one,” I explained, setting down the coffee. “On the ship.” Sighing a bit, I twitched my fingers on my knee in a shrug. “It was my own fault. I was trying to get a look at the Head of the network. The one Revik called Galaith.”
Murmuring broke out in the circle of seers around me and Vash.
I fought to ignore it, focusing only on the old seer, who watched me without changing expression.
“Indeed?” he said, his voice inquisitive.
“Not that it did much good,” I added. “But maybe I got closer that time. Those beings showed up and try to scare me.” At Vash’s questioning eyebrow, I held up my hands with hooked fingers, like a movie monster. “Booga-booga… you know. They threatened me. Told me they were coming for me. Etc.”
“Indeed?” Vash chuckled. “Fascinating.”
He smiled as if I’d just told him I’d solved a Rubik’s cube on my first try.
“We call these beings the Dreng, Alyson,” he said. “They are, in truth, the real Rooks. It would be more accurate to call the seers down here slaves of the Rooks. Or, more generously, their followers. Of course, they call themselves ‘The Brotherhood,’ ‘The Organization,’ or ‘Org,’ for short. They title missions ‘Operation Blackout,’ ‘Operation Great Hope,’ and so on. The Dreng encourage these fantasies. They often frame their goals in terms of the greater good.”
I nodded, listening. “So, they’re brainwashed, then?”
Vash took a sip of tea, nodding thoughtfully. “In a way, yes. It is a symbiotic relationship. In return for the power they provide through the Pyramid construct, the Dreng collect light from the seers in their employ. Those seers in turn parasitize other seers and humans, to supply the Dreng with light. It is the Dreng’s primary motive and function down here, to steal the light of living beings, as they cannot generate their own. The Pyramid collects this light in large feeding pools for use by the construct. But their primary customer is still the Dreng themselves.”
I frowned, picking up images from the old seer as he spoke.
Vash added, “In short-term, everyday usage, the Pyramid provides individual seers with an almost limitless supply of light. Especially those at the top. The shape of the Pyramid symbolizes the hierarchical nature of the macro version of the living resonant construct. It is known by us that the alpha tier shifts at irregular intervals, but—”
“Okay, wait.” I held up a hand. “Time out. I need you to translate that part.”
Vash smiled. “We are unable to see the workings of the structure from outside of it,” he clarified. “We know it is made up of beings…”
A Pyramid made of silvery-white light appeared in the space above where we sat. I looked up at it in wonder, and realized Vash must be doing it. He illuminated dots making up the Pyramid’s walls, floors, ceilings and corners, then connected them with silk threads.
“These beings are represented by nodes,” he explained. “We know the leadership changes, but not how. Or why. We can speculate on the latter. But we cannot be certain our theories are correct.”
“Those dots are people?” I said to Vash. “Seers?”
“Yes.” Vash nodded vigorously. “Incidentally, your husband was quite obsessed with determining the identity of those seers at the top, too.” Vash highlighted the top spot, the one I’d circled for Revik in my untidy sketch on ship’s stationary.
“He thought he might know the leader of the Rooks on Earth,” Vash added. “But he could not remember. It was a function and condition of leaving the Pyramid that he lost much of his memory of the time he spent inside of it. But it demonstrates how high up he must have been, Alyson, while he lived inside the Rooks’ network. Very few Rooks know the true identity of the Head, either.”
I frowned, staring up at the Pyramid. “How few?”
“We do not know for certain.”
Remembering T
erian’s words on the ship, I nodded, still thinking. “So that’s why they erased Revik. Because he was close to Galaith?”
“In part.” Vash took another sip of tea. “Truthfully, that was a judgment call not only by the Rooks, but by us, as well. In fact, you may be operating under a misconception––one I feel I should remedy. It wasn’t only the Rooks who erased your husband’s mind. It was me.” Pausing, he added, “Of course, some of what he lost was purely a result of leaving the Pyramid. Also, the Rooks had some say in how the erasure was accomplished… but it was a joint agreement, and their end of it was conducted entirely from the Barrier.”
Waving a hand around at the bamboo mats, he added, “It happened in this very room. After he defected from their network, we could not exactly return him to them. They would have killed him at once. Or, more likely, forcibly re-assimilated him.” Taking another sip of the tea, he added, “We are told Galaith was quite fond of your mate––that he thought of him almost as a son. He would not have let him go willingly.”
Remembering what I’d felt on the ship, all of the walls around Revik’s light, I frowned. “If you were able to keep him safe from the Rooks, why not leave his mind alone? Why erase him at all?”
Vash’s voice turned matter-of-fact. “There are several reasons. Some are complicated, and related to his light, as well as long-standing treaties with the Rooks. Others related to his emotional well-being. Had we not erased him, he likely would never have survived, Alyson. As it was, he was quite suicidal. For years, he struggled with those feelings.”
“Suicidal?” I didn’t hide my surprise. “Revik?”
“Yes.” Vash set down his tea, his expression serene. “Quite a normal response, if you think about it. As you may have gathered from my description, living inside the Pyramid carries some very specific advantages. Servants of the Rooks are in a kind of trance. What they do in that trance makes perfect sense to them as long as they remain inside. But, break that spell, and suddenly they are able to see what they have done in quite a different light.”
Rook (Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #1): Bridge & Sword World Page 35