Allie's War Season One

by JC Andrijeski

  The other seers laughed louder at this, until Chandre glared them all into silence.

  Cass rearranged herself on the chair, holding out her arm. Carefully, the male leaned over her skin, aligning the needle before giving a last glance to Chandre.

  Steeling herself, Cass held her arm still, the way she’d seen the other seers do it. Before the needle lowered all the way, a young male approached silently on Cass’ other side. He bowed respectfully, asking permission with his eyes.

  Cass nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude.

  “Thanks. That would be great.”

  He positioned himself behind the chair to hold her still, pressing his shoulder into hers and gripping her arm. The seer holding the needle gave Chandre a last, fleeting look. Then he pressed the end of the organic metal to her skin.

  He began to work, and every seer in the place fell silent.

  Cass had only ever dealt with pain like that at one other time in her life…under Terian. Still, she found something familiar there, enough to allow her to brace her mind and her body against what otherwise would have been agony. It grew steadily worse as more of the acid-like ink got under her skin, until it felt like her arm was on fire and being eaten at the same time. Still, she found something oddly satisfying in the fact that she’d experienced worse before.

  A lot worse.

  Worse than most of these badass seers had ever seen.

  She bit her lip, eyes tearing, but didn’t struggle against the male seer’s hold. She didn’t make a sound, not even when he pulled the needle away, ripping away part of her skin.

  She watched him change the color of the ink, filling the organic holder with a pale blue.

  Then he started again. That time, it hurt more.

  But still, not as bad as she’d dealt with. She was better than the pain, even then.

  By the end, she stared up from the chair at the light flooding through the barn doors, watching the birds flit to and fro, feeling the seer’s fingers on her arm as well as the white-hot end of the organic needle.

  About an hour later, the seer hung the needle up on the metal stand.

  Dabbing her skin, he winced a little when Cass moaned, fighting not to pull away. She’d gotten so relaxed under the steady fire of the needle itself, the dabbing of the blood caught her off guard, since it was a different kind of pain. She made herself look over when he dropped another blood-soaked rag to the sawdust-covered floor. Then her eyes fell to her arm, staring at the blue and white sword and sun burned into her skin.

  She staggered slowly to her feet, and the young seer caught her around the waist, holding her up. She bowed to the tattoo artist, a little stiffly, but with her hands in the proper position.

  The male seers cheered, stomping their feet on the wooden floor.

  When she turned in surprise, they cheered louder, whistling and applauding.

  Stepping closer, Chandre looked at the tattoo, and frowned. Cass had almost forgotten she was there, waiting. Now she saw that the seer had stood there the entire time, unmoving, while the organic needle marked her.

  Peering down at the fine lines of the tattoo, and the color already visible under the red flesh, Cass smiled. Blowing on it a little and wincing, she bowed again in thanks to the old seer, then to the male who assisted by holding her arm.

  Then, grinning, she raised both of her arms in a victory salute to the other seers in the barn.

  Laughing, the males cheered louder, thumping the wooden floor with their feet.

  “Shut up!” Chandre yelled.

  They did. Cass grinned at her, but it didn’t change Chandre’s expression, which remained worried, and faintly upset. Ignoring the rest of them, she began speaking to Cass rapidly by motioning with her hands, then seemed to remember that she was human and switched seamlessly to verbal.

  “...Be sure to cover it tonight,” she finished in English. “I have a crème for this…it is herbal, so it won’t hurt you. I’ll bring it by later, and some tea. And drink lots of water...at least three or four glasses...”

  Stepping closer, Cass caressed the muscular seer’s arm.

  The males in the room quieted, staring at them.

  “So I’m a dumb worm now, huh?” Cass said.

  Chandre’s jaw tightened. “I did not deny you.”

  Cass smiled. She tossed back her dyed red hair. “No,” she said. “You didn’t.” She squeezed the seer’s arm, kissing her on the cheek. “You coming by later?”

  Chandre nodded, gesturing affirmative. She didn’t meet her eyes, though.

  Releasing her, Cass walked past the line of male seers to the doorway.

  She ignored the stares. If ever there was a town with a shortage of females, it was Seertown. Some of those by the wall had already propositioned her...politely, of course, given her relationship to the Bridge...but they hadn’t just been testing the waters, either.

  If nothing else, she’d never suffer from a sex shortage here, even with the ugly scar on her face.

  It didn’t help really, knowing that.

  CASS SAT AT a table in a rooftop cafe, smoking a hand-rolled hiri.

  She listened to rain hitting the corrugated tin roof.

  It rained a lot in Seertown. More than Seattle...more than Portland, even, where her cousins lived. Mist would float into the valley between rains as well, making the buildings and even the colorful prayer flags invisible. But when the sun was out, rarely did she see anyplace so colorful, with skies such a deep, fathomless blue. In that sense, it reminded her of San Francisco.

  She’d been sitting there for what felt like hours, with only the old human who owned the place coming up periodically to replace her cup of chai. He let her play the record player, which had a motley stack of vinyl left behind from tourists and oddball pilgrims.

  Right then, she had on the Stooges.

  It had been Maygar’s favorite record...at least of human music.

  She glanced down at her upper arm, blowing lightly on the sun and sword tattoo that stood out on her skin. The colors seemed to brighten every day, growing sharper as the red of her skin faded. The flames around the sun’s orb also got more detailed.

  Chan was still angry about it, of course, although she’d stopped grumbling overtly.

  She’d been getting more possessive lately, Cass noticed.

  It didn’t help, what had happened to Grent. He got back about a week after Revik, practically dragged there bodily by the other Adhipan seers following a burial ceremony for his mate in Sikkim. Cass even wondered if they’d deliberately waited until Revik had wandered back on his own…instead of having Revik bring Grent back to Seertown himself.

  None of the mated seers seemed to want to talk about Grent.

  Everyone knew he was letting himself die in the basement of the Seven’s compound. Vash and others in the Adhipan went to see him daily, but he wouldn’t eat. Supposedly, from what Tenzin told her, and Jon via Dorje and Garensche…Grent was in a lot of pain.

  Jon went to visit when Dorje asked him, and he told Cass it reminded him of watching a friend of theirs in San Francisco, Justin, trying to quit hard drugs. He’d been quiet, meditating as he sat on the floor of a monk cell under the main floors. Despite his apparent serenity, however, he’d sweated off half of his body weight within a few days, and seemed only to be preparing to die.

  Cass thought about visiting him, too, but she didn’t really know Grent. She couldn’t quite bring herself to go down there, knowing at least half of it was curiosity.

  She didn’t want to think about the fact that she might have to see Allie like that one day, either...or Revik for that matter. Given how often people seemed to be trying to kill one or both of them, it didn’t really strike her as that far-fetched that she might outlive them, despite their crazy seer lifespans.

  On the whole, the compound went on with things as usual.

  She’d heard a lot of compassion and sympathy expressed towards Grent, and grief about Laren. Even in the midst of other things, there
was an atmospheric change that affected everyone, even when they didn’t talk about it. Everyone knew he was down there, dying. It couldn’t help but leave a pall over the whole group.

  She’d heard Yerin talking about his burial rites already, so Cass knew that no one expected him to live through this...whatever it was.

  She’d also heard the elders talking about Allie in concerned tones, and what they would do when she got back.

  So, given all that, getting a tattoo seemed pretty minor to Cass.

  “Does it hurt?” a voice said.

  Cass jumped, turning towards the stairwell.

  A middle-aged seer stood there, just past the doorway. He had chestnut brown hair and the lightest, most piercing gray eyes she’d ever seen.

  Cass recognized him, vaguely. He was one of the new ones, who came from the mountains. In fact, she was pretty sure he was their leader. He didn’t look particularly Chinese though, except around the cheekbones, and then only if you were looking for it.

  He was like Revik—one of those seers whose ethnicity was impossible to pinpoint with any accuracy.

  Their similarities ended there, though. Where Revik had a striking angularity to his features, and eyes that stood out even more than this man’s did, he wasn’t stereotypically handsome. He definitely fell into the sexy camp, in Cass’ view, and she totally got why Allie was so attracted to him...but his features didn’t quite fit together in a way that most would consider harmonious.

  The man standing in front of her, on the other hand, had the chiseled face of an aging movie star. Almost shockingly handsome, he wore it as unselfconsciously as he did the uniform-like dress shirt and dark pants.

  If human, she would have pegged him at about forty-five. Since he was seer, she had no idea what that made him, but at least twice Revik’s age...if not more.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked again.

  Cass looked down at the tattoo on her arm, following his eyes.

  “A little,” she said. When he didn’t move, she held up her cup. “Chai?”

  He glanced at the record player.

  “It’s Iggy,” she said. “You can change it.”

  “No.” His eyes cleared. “No, it’s fine.”

  Approaching where she sat, he gestured with one hand, a request to join her.

  When Cass gave the appropriate countersign, he sank into the opposite chair. She watched him in some curiosity as he relaxed deeper into the wooden seat, propping his arms on the water-damaged armrests and stretching out his legs.

  He gazed out at the view, squinting past the rain. Old buildings cascaded down the hill, strung with prayer flags.

  “I am Balidor.” He turned. “You are Cassandra?”

  Cass smiled wanly. “No one but my mother’s called me that in about twenty years, but yes, that would be me. Call me Cass...or Cassie.”

  “Interesting name.” He smiled. “It is not Thai. You are Thai, are you not?”

  “I’m a mutt,” she said, answering with a shrug. “A real one. Thai, Ethiopian, Irish.” She took a sip of the chai. “I think my mom named me after the Greek Goddess...you know. Apollo’s babe.”

  “Ah yes.” He clicked softly, as though remembering. “Cassandra. A great beauty. She could see the future, could she not?”

  “Yes.” Cass leaned back in the plastic chair. “But no one believed her.” She blew bangs out of her eyes. “...It’s always sounded pretty stupid with my last name. It’s Jainukul,” she added. “...In case you want to do a security check on me. That’s Thai, by the way.”

  He nodded, seemingly without noticing her jab.

  She found herself watching him curiously again, really thinking about his age. He had a kind of leonine grace that reminded her of the way kings were often portrayed from the Middle Ages. He wore authority with an assumed air that made it seem almost genetic.

  He also seemed vaguely stiff, as though his manners came from a different era.

  “I lead the Adhipan,” he said. “...the infiltrators assigned to protecting the Council.” His eyebrows drew together as he glanced back at her. “That includes protecting the Bridge. In fact, protecting your friend Alyson is our primary responsibility.”

  Cass adjusted her body in the chair. “Cool.”

  She waited, still surprised a seer had any interest in her. Maybe it was sexual. If so, he wasn’t doing it like the others had. Subtlety wasn’t generally a defining trait for most seers when it came to sex, she’d noticed.

  Balidor smiled faintly. “I could use your help...or your advice, perhaps.”

  She hid her surprise. “Sure.”

  “I know you helped Dehgoies prepare for his...” His eyebrows scrunched faintly, as if he were looking for the right word in English. “...For his time with Allie,” he finished.

  He paused, glancing at her with those light gray eyes.

  “I wondered,” he said, after another polite pause. “When you spoke to him, did he tell you what hurt him in the woods?”

  For a moment she just looked at him blankly.

  Then she raised an eyebrow, snorting.

  “Revik?” Relaxing in spite of herself, she folded her arms. “You know him...or I assume you do. He was vague. He was also a little preoccupied. I asked him about it, sure. He said you...” She gestured towards Balidor, seer-fashion. “The Adhipan...had reason to worry that Terian or someone was ‘engineering’ something. He didn’t say what.”

  She paused, giving him the chance to fill in the blanks.

  When he didn’t, she cleared her throat.

  “Well? Is it true?” she said.

  Balidor hesitated. Then he made a ‘more or less’ sign with his hand.

  “Was it some kind of weapon?”

  “No.” Balidor’s brows drew together. “Not exactly.”

  He hesitated again, and Cass found herself studying those gray eyes.

  “I have noticed a tendency,” he said then. “...Of Dehgoies Revik’s. He seems to not, well...share things. With his wife.” He studied Cass’ expression. “Do you know what I mean?”

  Cass looked at his serious face, and realized he wasn’t reading her. He was waiting for her to tell him. Something about the unspoken politeness of that gesture disarmed her completely. She dropped the guardedness of her tone.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I do. So does Allie. It drives her crazy, actually.”

  “So...do you think it unlikely he would have told her what happened to him?”

  Cass thought about that for a moment. Again, she felt the Adhipan leader waiting. If he was reading her, he was really damned good at hiding it.

  “I don’t know.” She picked up her tea, propping her elbow on her crossed arm. “Honestly, I don’t think he hides things from her on purpose. He just avoids telling people things that might upset them...and he worries about upsetting Allie more than anyone. He also doesn’t seem to think it’s important a lot of the time...sort of an unspoken ‘need to know’ rule. He’s not the chattiest guy in the first place, if you hadn’t noticed.” She smiled, putting down the tea. “He can give a lecture like nobody’s business, though.”

  Balidor nodded, his face respectful. “So you think it unlikely he told her?”

  “I didn’t say that. She’s his wife.” Remembering his face when she’d last seen him, she snorted again, letting it turn into more of a laugh.

  “...Although to be honest, I think he had other things on his mind when he left here.”

  Balidor gazed out over the rain-filled valley.

  He looked up then and smiled, accepting a cup of tea from the old man who owned the restaurant. He bowed before speaking a few polite words to the human in Tibetan. The human smiled in return, speaking back with a nearly toothless mouth. Cass watched the hunched, white-haired human disappear back through the cloth-covered doorway.

  Cass said, “Whatever it is...do you want Revik to tell her about it? Or not?”

  Balidor gave her a sideways glance, sipping his tea. “I will be honest...I wi
sh for them to enjoy this time together. And yet, it is imperative that she understand the current risks. I also do not want to find myself in the unhappy position of being forced to tell her things about which her mate did not see fit to inform her...”

  He paused, giving Cass a serious look with those light gray eyes.

  “He is likely to be...touchy. When they return.”

  “Yeah,” Cass said, grinning. “I can understand that.”

  He met her gaze. Then he smiled in return. “Yes. I see that you do.”

  “So what happened in Sikkim?” Cass said. “Can you tell me?”

  There was a short pause.

  Then Balidor sighed again, his eyes concerned as he stirred his tea.

  “It is difficult,” he said. “You are human.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Cass said, her smile growing stiff.

  “...I believe you are a trustworthy person,” Balidor said. “But any hunter could read you for information if they wished. In addition, you were targeted by our enemies, due to your closeness to the Bridge.”

  After a pause, she shrugged. “I appreciate the honesty...I guess.”

  There was a silence while she looked out over the rooftop. Her eyes scanned the increasingly limited view of the town now that a thick mist had begun to pervade the valley. Watching it slide around a group of trees standing below the restaurant’s roof, she focused on a monkey climbing down a string of prayer flags, its dark eyes concentrated.

  After a pause, Balidor smiled.

  “You likely have not witnessed this yet with seers? This bonding?”

  “You mean Revik and Allie?” Cass shook her head. “No, but I’ve heard people joking about it. Are they both going to come back crazy?”

  Balidor clicked humorously even as he gestured in the negative.

  “They will be different. Some of this is biology.” He gave her a sideways smile. “Also, I think you are right. Sharing information about his time in Sikkim is unlikely to be his priority, given the circumstances. And if Dehgoies did not tell her what happened when he first saw her, it is unlikely she will know anything before they return.”