Allie's War Season One (99 page)

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Authors: JC Andrijeski

BOOK: Allie's War Season One
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“Your house?” I said.

She gestured in affirmative. Then I smelled it. Wood smoke wafted from a larger crack past the dugout’s entrance. I stared at it, then looked at her.

“Someone’s here?”

She made the affirmative gesture again. “Had the girl come to light it, so we’d not be so cold.”

“The girl,” I said.

Instead of words, she sent a flicker of imagery, as casual as a blown kiss.

‘The girl’ appeared to be around thirty, which meant she was likely closer to three hundred since she was clearly a seer from her wide, opaque, blue eyes. She lived with her mate on a farm in a nearby valley, and brought food to the woman, staples mostly, but also cooked meals when she was (away? flying? traveling?)...I got the impression these journeys didn’t involve Tarsi actually leaving her cave.

Clicking out of the Barrier, I studied Tarsi’s face, shoving my hands in my front pants pockets. My fingers grew numb as soon as we stood still long enough for me to notice, and the pants didn’t help much. What I really wanted was a shower...or maybe a sauna.

The old woman clicked to herself softly, walking to the wooden door.

I followed, and saw a sliver of moon rising over the valley, already above the horizon. I remembered, somehow, that it was waning. In a few days, I’d be faced with yet another new moon.

So much drama,
Tarsi teased.
He knows where you are.

“Is he all right?” I realized how that sounded.
...With where I am, I mean.

Of course not.
She smiled.
But he knows you are safe.

Not exactly reassured, I followed her through the door.

I stopped again in the small foyer, watching her speak to “the girl,” who was stirring something over the stone fireplace. The fireplace itself reminded me of a pioneer dwelling I’d visited outside San Francisco once, a reconstruction by one historical society or another. Tarsi poked at the fire with a metal rod, then nodded to the other female, speaking a language I couldn’t understand.

The younger seer didn’t look up when I first walked in, but she smiled at me now, her wide, brown face wrinkling into lines of sun, wind and good humor. She had the faraway look of one who spent a lot of time staring at snow.

I raised a hand, smiling back, then just stood there, taking in the small space.

Rugs and blankets covered stone floors. A kitchen nook was hung with dried plants beside a colorful cabinet without doors, filled with jars of different-colored spices and more plants, along with ceramic plates and bowls. The furniture was all wood, including a small table and two chairs made of what looked like driftwood, near the fireplace. On the mantle stood a row of candles in iron holders and a number of figurines that looked to be carved from volcanic stone.

There was only one bed, but a pallet had been set up on the floor beside it, dressed in thick furs. I assumed that was for me.

The girl clicked to the old woman in that oddly-accented Prexci.

“I bring...” (something I didn’t get) “...grandmother?” the girl said. “...for you and your...” (I lost it again). “She want now?”

Tarsi cuffed the back of the dark head affectionately. “Yes,” was all I understood in the hand gestures that followed, but I saw the girl smile with perfect white teeth. She stood then, bowing to me with a palm tilted before her face, a seer gesture of respect.

I did it back, half-wanting to correct her and not knowing how.

Of course, I’d forgotten she was a seer.

Ah, but it is much deserved, Bridge Alyson! Grandmother is too kind, allowing me to serve you both while you are here...

“Serve,” I muttered. I tried to return her warm smile, but mine felt strained.

I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Thank you for your kind words,
I sent.

She smiled, but I saw a thread of puzzlement in her opaque, indigo-colored eyes. The old woman shooed her towards me. I watched warily as the girl approached—moreso when she gestured at my shirt, indicating that she would help me take it off.

I glanced at Tarsi.

“What’s this?” I said. “Can we not do this?”

“No shower here, Bridge. No sauna, either.”

I followed her pointing finger to a large wooden basin that reminded me of an old wine barrel, cut in half lengthwise. The water in it was steaming, and it occurred to me that the faint smell of flowers I’d noticed in the room came from there. It stood near to the fireplace, which made me hesitate.

“You’re not going to eat me, are you?” I joked.

The old woman smiled, but her eyes sharpened a bit, looking even more like Revik’s.

“Get in the water, Bridge. I can’t have you getting sick.” She smiled, and this time I felt humor behind it.
I suspect you’ll be happy to have had it, soon enough,
she added, startling me again with her more cultured internal voice.
...It is easy to get lost while hunting. You may not get a chance again for several days. The girl will not abuse you...she would not even think of such a thing, Esteemed Bridge.

I glanced at the girl.

“Abuse” hadn’t really occurred to me, either. I more didn’t like the idea of being naked in a strange place, even if it was in front of an old woman and a female seer whose kind eyes clearly didn’t scream “infiltrator.” I glanced again at the tub. I watched steam curl off the water, rubbing my arms against the chill that had seeped in from my wet shirt. I decided I was too far in to start having second thoughts about these people.

Ignoring the girl’s offer of help, I yanked my shirt over my head.

Untying my pants and sliding those off with my underwear, I only hesitated another second before grabbing the wooden sides of the tub. I climbed in carefully, conscious of the two women watching me, wincing as the hot water sloshed over my skin. Once standing in the knee-high water, I lowered myself the rest of the way until it rose to within a few centimeters of the brim. Sighing, I dunked my head all the way under and stretched out, eyes closed.

The old woman offered me a clay cup of something steaming and her arm brushed mine. Unlike the coarseness of her fingers, the skin of her forearm felt rubbed to the softness of lambskin. I took the cup from her, and sniffed the brown liquid. It smelled like a nutty kind of coffee. I smiled in pleased surprise.

Tarsi sent,
Better now, Bridge?

Nodding, I sipped the hot drink. It tasted even better than it smelled. I watched her pour herself a mug of the same.

“You really told them to leave me alone?” I snorted a little. “How long do you think that’ll work?”

I told them at least a week,
she sent, no trace of humor in her thoughts.
I’ll extend it, if that ends up being not long enough. They won’t come here.

I felt the smile and the blood leave my face.

I hadn’t even thought of Revik consciously yet, but a dull ache started in my fingers. Nausea slid through my chest when I tried to swallow.

“A week?” I sat up in the tub. “Look, there’s a war going on. Someone just went serial killer on a bunch of kids. I may be a crappy leader, but I’m still their leader.” I clutched the mug tighter. “If this is about Maygar—”

“Not about rape,” she said, her voice warning. “The conversation is long, Alyson the Bridge. Longer than one night. I need you here.”

“Do I have a choice?” I said, glancing at the girl.

“Always have a choice,” Tarsi said with a shrug.
...But I would think you could control your hormones long enough to do something of real importance. I would think this would matter more to you...

I blinked at her, then looked at the girl. My jaw tightened.

Tarsi clicked softly.
No offense meant, Bridge. Just putting things in perspective. I understand your situation. But this matters more.

A presence enveloped me—warm, immersing me in a dense softness that made my breath catch, that seemed to penetrate my heart. For a moment, all I saw were her clear eyes.

...If it could wait,
she added. .
..I would. But it can’t wait, Alyson.

“I don’t like being ordered around,” I said.
I don’t like it,
I repeated.

The old seer chuckled.

The presence lifted even as I realized it was hers.

He’ll wait for you...don’t worry.
Tarsi sat in one of the chairs beside the fireplace, smiling at me in a friendly way. The girl tucked a blanket around her feet and legs.
...If it helps, you are calm compared to him right now.

“It doesn’t,” I said, wiping my face with water. Because it was easier not having to think of the words in Prexci, I sent,

You know I’m not trained, right? Bridge or not, I can’t actually
do
anything. I’m not even a Level 1 infiltrator yet.

Her eyes sharpened again.
I know what you can do, Bridge
.

I found myself remembering earlier that day, what I’d done to Maygar.

Yeah, so maybe it was unconvincing, me saying I couldn’t do much...today, at least. But the reality was, I couldn’t control the telekinesis either, or even evoke it at will. The Maygar thing had been dumb luck brought on by sheer, mind-numbing panic when I realized he really wasn’t going to stop. If I’d managed to keep myself in denial for the duration of his attack, I probably would have just lain there, helpless.

For the first time, it occurred to me that I may have killed him.

Ironically, even in the middle of all that, I’d hesitated before calling Revik.

I’d been worried he would overreact.

Tarsi clasped her hands in her lap. Her mind felt incredibly still to me, but her eyes held emotion when she turned.

This business with the children.
She met my gaze, refolding her gnarled hands.
It’s a bad business, Bridge.

“Well, yeah,” I said. “It’s horrible...”

She clicked softly, shaking her head as if I’d missed her point.

Events are accelerating,
she sent.
Too many players are involved to see them all clearly anymore.
She clicked again, softer.
The Broken One...I fear he is dabbling in things he cannot control. But he is not the only one. These things have lives of their own...

She gave me a meaningful look.

...Unintended consequences.

“You mean the war with China and the United States?” I trailed when she gestured another negative with her hand. “Then what?”

You are missing things, Alyson. There is still much you do not know about the Displacement...about the forces behind it. And yet you know more than you realize. That book you found...the diary. Have you read it all yet?

“No.” I lowered the mug halfway into the water, frowning. “And how did you know about that? My own people don’t know I found that...” When she didn’t answer, I tried to think.
This is about those kids? You think Terian has something to do with what happened in Sikkim? Because I would have thought he’d be more into eliminating humans...not killing a bunch of seer kids.

No,
she said, shaking a finger.
I do not believe it was Terian who did the killing.

The old woman’s eyes grew very sad. In the firelight, she looked formidable to me, an aging warrior on a driftwood throne.

No,
she sent, as if lost in her thoughts.
No, we all did that.

I splashed the water with my fingers, frowning. “Well, I didn’t. Not that I know of, anyway. I’ve never even authorized any ops in Sikkim...”

The woman gestured absently in the negative.

I waited for her to go on, fighting irritation a little.

With another sigh, she met my gaze, her eyes reflecting orange from the fire.

She sent,
I told Vash we would aid the Adhipan, you and I...look at forces behind the Barrier that might have led to this terrible thing.
Those pale eyes unnerved me, being too much like Revik’s, yet too different too.
...It will give me an opportunity to assess what you can do, Bridge.

Meaning what?
I sent, again a little sharply.

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